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“Learning doesn’t just take place in the classroom either.”
    Amber turned to Lexi. “That’s why I want to win and be an apprentice to the pastry chef. I’m gonna find out inside tricks.”
    Just my luck, Lexi thought. Amber didn’t view the kitchen as a trip through hell. No. She was intrigued and wanted to learn more.
    “Where is the pastry chef?” asked Amber.
    “In the next room.” Brad pointed to a door that opened off the side of the kitchen. They walked into a cool passageway with racks of fruit and cheese lining the walls.
    “This is a semicool room,” Brad said, “like they use in Europe. Cheese and fruit is best when it’s close to room temperature. Americans tend to whisk everything straight from the refrigerator to the table. The food’s too cold to really appreciate the flavor.”
    They entered another kitchen where a soft buzz of conversation filled the air. Unlike the pandemonium of the main kitchen, this smaller area had fewer people and was more orderly.
    “Charmayne, got a minute?”
    “Sure,” the petite blonde said with a smile.
    Lexi realized most of the female staff had a thing for Brad. He possessed an easy kind of charm and the good looks women appreciated. She wondered what kind of boss he was. Brad introduced them and told Charmayne that Amber was entering the baking contest and hoped to serve as her intern for the summer.
    “Great,” said the pastry chef with genuine enthusiasm. “I was just about your age when I decided I wanted to become a pastry chef. Mother made me go to college first.”
    Lexi silently blessed Charmayne’s mother. Amber’s smile faltered, but the woman kept talking.
    “I worked part-time in pastry shops. You have to get up at three in the morning to bake and be ready for the morning coffee crowd, but it pays really well and leaves plenty of time for classes.”
    Had Brad coaxed the pastry chef into mentioning her education? Lexi wondered. He was working hard to relate to Amber, and Lexi appreciated the effort. What she thought made little difference to her sister, but Amber looked up to these professionals.
    “Didn’t college just eat up time you could have spent learning your trade?” Amber wanted to know.
    Charmayne shook her head. “No. I studied hotel and restaurant management. The world is a really technical place these days. You need to know how to run your own kitchen. That takes as much business know-how as it does cooking skill.”
    “Really?” Amber sounded doubtful.
    “You’d be surprised.” Charmayne pointed to something creamy she’d been whipping. “How much cream should you order for a weekend? How long does it keep? Is there anything else you can do with it if no one orders a certain dessert and you’re stuck with too much?”
    “Making one recipe of anything is easy,” Brad said. “Multiples take time and planning.”
    “Right.” Charmayne turned to a set of double-wide coolers. “Some desserts can be prepared in advance. You can estimate how many to make by checking your computer and seeing what was consumed previously. Other desserts have to be put together when the order hits the kitchen.”
    “We better let you get back to work,” Brad told Charmayne.
    “Thanks,” Amber said. “Look for me this summer.”
    After they left the pastry kitchen they passed another bank of computers where a young man was working. “This is the check station,” Brad said. “The final bill showing all you’ve ordered is printed out here. The cash and credit cards are processed here by one person—Jake.”
    “That would be me,” the young man said with a bow.
    “Why one person?” Lexi asked.
    “There’s a lot of credit card fraud these days,” Brad told them. “When you allow all the waiters to use the machines, one bad apple could be using a swiper to record the card numbers. This way just one trusted person is responsible.”
    They arrived at their table just as Tiffany and a helper brought their lunches. They were