Nate was having a difficult time, Marcus judged. Not because of skill—he clearly possessed that—nor because of poor ingredients; all his decorations were lovely and for the most part handmade. Time would be a factor. So would design; while the cabin in the woods was gorgeous, it was not necessarily embodying holidays in the same way that Jasmine’s winter fairies or Evan’s delicate bejeweled Chanukah cottage were.
He watched another gumdrop slide. His fingers twitched, suffering from a stray impulse to go over and help. Another pair of hands would be so useful.
But then, all the bakers needed that. Paul only barely had elf workshop walls up; he’d be unlikely to finish. And Marcus himself should be unbiased. Fair. Evenhanded.
He’d watched Nate run over to help a fellow contestant not once
