Page 78 of A Very Merry Enemy
She cuts herself another slice. “Yeah, they’re damn good.”
“I think I could eat this whole pan myself.”
“Feel free,” she says, adding dishes to the sink. She yawns and I notice how tired she looks.
“I’ve got it. Seriously. You should go home and get some rest. You’ll need it.”
She yawns again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I confirm, moving her toward the door.
“Thanks.” She reaches for the knob. “For tonight. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. I want to,” she tells me.
I open the door and cool air rushes in with a whisper.
“Good night.”
“Night, Peaches.”
She shakes her head as she takes the steps off the porch. I lean against the door as she turns and looks back at me. I pop my brows at her, and she smiles while climbing into her car.
I don’t go inside until her taillights fade away.
What the hell am I doing?
I thought I was over her, that I could do this, but tonight proved I’m a liar.
I’m not over Holiday Patterson. I never was. And she looked at me like maybe she feels it, too.
Yeah, I’m completely fucked.
CHAPTER 15
HOLIDAY
By one o’clock, we sold four thousand cookies. It’s impossible to bake more than that with the equipment, employees, and space I have. I knew I’d hit this number eventually, but I thought it would be in mid-December when the holiday rush peaked. Not before Thanksgiving.
I stand in the middle of the bakery and let it sink in that I underestimated myself. Again. Somehow, I planned for less, expected less, because some part of me still believes I’m not good enough.
Dominic’s voice echoes in my head.You were nothing before me. You needed me.
I shake it off and turn to my staff. Bella and Wendy are both dead on their feet, and Bethany looks ready to collapse. Last night, I slept like a baby and actually feel rested today.
“Okay,” I announce, clapping my hands together. “You three are done for the day.”
Bella looks up from wiping down the counter, flour dusted in her dark hair. “But we still need to prep for tomorrow.”
“I’ve actually got it covered.”
“You can’t do it alone. It’s going to take hours,” Wendy says.
“I won’t be alone,” I say, moving to the kitchen.
The three of them freeze and glare at me.
