Page 69 of A Very Merry Enemy
When I see a text from an unknown number, my heart races.
Unknown
Holiday, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us. I miss you terribly. I made mistakes, but I’ve changed. I hope we can talk when I arrive. I want to make things right. You deserve that. We deserve that.
I stare at the words until they blur, then I program the stupid ass’s name into my phone.Dominic.
The old Holiday, the one who spent years in Paris trying to be perfect enough for him, would have read this and run back. I would’ve believed him when he said he changed. But I’m not that Holiday anymore.
Once my blinders were off, I couldn’t unsee the ugly, competitive, toxic person he was. Dominic wanted to dull my shine so I would never be his competition. He saw in me what I didn’t see in myself and wanted to make sure I never recognized my talent.
When I overheard him speak about my pastries like they were his masterpieces, I woke up. I refused to die in his shadow as he took the credit and kept the crown. He’s not creative, he’s conniving. Stupid me almost married him.
There are a million things I want to say to Dominic, but instead, I block the number. Somehow, I force myself out of bed, more pissed off at the world than I should be for how early it is. He’d barely crossed my mind until now.
Merryville is my sanctuary, my home, the one place where I know exactly who I am. My hometown is a place where Dominic can never erase me. My talent speaks for itself. No one here gives a fuck about him. Not even me.
I shower, throw on jeans and a candy cane sweatshirt, then grab my sparkly green gloves, hoping they’ll brighten my mood. It’s the small things in life.
Bella and Wendy are already waiting by the bakery door when I arrive. Their expressions are neutral, and they treat me like I’m an if-you-break-it-you-buy-it vase in an antique store.
“We saw the articles,” Bella blurts. I knew she’d spit it out before I unlocked the door because she can’t help herself. She was like that when I’d babysit her. Bella would literally tell on herself before I found out she and Wendy did something they shouldn’t have.
“I expected as much.” I unlock the door and gently push it open for them. “Nothing I can do about it. There will always be rumors about me,” I say, remembering what Lucas said.
He was right.
I can do hard things.
Dominic may have smeared my name and spread rumors about me to our colleagues, but knowing he never loved mesomehow hurt worse. I was both the beauty and the brains in his bakery. He just had balls in a business where men and money still rule.
“What someone thinks about you isn’t your problem. It’s theirs,” Bella says with a shrug.
“You’re right.”
The three of us fall into our routine, and I lose myself in the familiar rhythm that comes with baking. My hands know what to do even when my mind is playing Dominic’s text on repeat, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do when he shows up next week. He’s charming when he wants to be and he’s gorgeous. I turn the holiday music up to drown it all out.
Bella eventually clears her throat. “When are you baking with Lucas again?”
I think about tonight and keep a straight face, not wanting to show any excitement.
Wendy gasps. “Did you just almost smile about that?”
Guess I failed.
The two girls scream and jump around.
“You two better stop!” I warn, throwing a wad of dough at them.
Bella catches it, then takes a bite.
“Oh my. Donoteat raw dough. Seriously.” I point my finger at her like she’s six years old again with dog food in her mouth.
Her eyes go wide as she playfully grins.
“It’s not always the raw eggs you have to worry about, but the flour. I’ll spare you the details, but unless you want the possibility of getting E. coli or salmonella, don’t swallow.”
Bella spits wet dough onto the floor, then washes her mouth out in the handwashing sink. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that before I took this job? Do you have any idea how much raw cookie dough I’ve consumed in the past week alone?”
