Page 57 of A Very Merry Enemy
But I’ve stopped breathing.
I might actually throw up.
Dominic’s face fills the screen with his chiseled jawline, dark hair perfectly styled, and those calculating honey-brown eyes that used to make me feel special.
Ice floods my veins, and my vision blurs.
Beside me, Lucas freezes.
“Chef Laurent has graciously agreed to join us via video,” Mayor Thompson announces. “Chef?”
Dominic sits in his New York office with the black-and-white photographs behind him, and the industrial shelving where every detail is as controlled and perfect as he is.
“Bonsoir, everyone.” That thick French accent is performative. “I’m delighted to be a part of this charming southern tradition. Texas baking has heart and authenticity. I’m very much looking forward to experiencing Merryville’sfamousChristmas hospitality. I’ve heard so much about it.”
The way he sayscharmingandhospitalitymakes my skin crawl. He’s heard me talk about it.
“I should mention something that makes this competition particularly meaningful to me.” He leans forward and gives one of those sexy smirks I used to adore. “I’ve learned my former fiancée is competing.”
The room goes silent, and every head whips toward me, even though he didn’t say my name.
Heat floods my face as my hands ball into fists. The walls close in. I can feel every eye on me—judging, pitying, and considering.
Someone mutters “oh shit” under their breath.
Mawmaw’s expression is unreadable, but there’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite place.
Lucas’s entire body tenses beside me.
Dominic smiles, warm to everyone watching, but poisonous to me. “But let me assure you all, I take judging this competition very seriously. Every entry will be evaluated fairly and objectively. I’m here to celebrate exceptional baking, regardless of who created it.”
Lies. All lies.
“In fact,” he continues, and dread pools in my stomach, “I’m planning to arrive in Merryville early—next week, actually. I thought it would be wonderful to connect with the town and experience your famous Christmas Festival firsthand.” His eyes seem to bore through the camera directly into me. “And of course, I’m hoping to spend some time with Holiday and catch up properly. We have so much to discuss.”
No. Nope.
Edna and her sisters erupt in excited whispers. This is the kind of drama they live for.
“Holiday and I built something extraordinary together in Paris. But I won’t bore you with details—I’m just thrilled to see what she creates.”
The room spins, and I think I’m going to be sick. I can feel it.
I hold on, swallowing down the saliva that pools in my mouth.
“I’m very much looking forward to seeing what Holiday creates for this competition,” Dominic continues smoothly. “She trained under me for three years. I know exactly what she’s capable of when she’s working with the rightpartner.But let’s bereal, she only needs herself. Can’t wait to see you all and hope to experience the magic of Merryville.”
The emphasis onpartneris deliberate and threatening.
The room erupts in whispers and a seemingly collective “Aw.”
“Her ex wants her back!” someone says.
“This is so romantic!” exclaims another person.
My throat closes. I can’t get enough air.
“Good luck to all the contestants,” Dominic continues with that rehearsed smile.
