Page 111 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

As he was about to return to his assigned station, his phone pinged, and he checked his messages.

“Dude! You’re back with Mara? She broke your heart.”

Chris frowned looking at the message from his cousin Josh.

“Yes. No. Fuck, no clue. The director figured out that we have a history and leaked it to the press for a ratings boost. I found out after he did it.”

“You were an asshole for months after you broke up with her, and I don’t want to ever see that again. You’re barely tolerable now as it is.”

“Ha. Ha. Appreciate the concern.”

“Chris, you’re wanted on the set,” the assistant director told him, and he pocketed his phone and followed him back into the multipurpose room.

* * *

Mara bolted out the door of the community center right at five p.m., leaving her team to do the bulk of the cleanup and storage for the day.

She didn’t like to outsource tasks like that—she was of the mindset that every worker was equal, and she would never expect them to do all the work—but today? She had a very important meeting she couldn’t afford to miss.

The bakery of her dreams was still a distant fantasy, but this competition was one tangible step closer to realizing that dream. The prize money would be her startup funding, which was why winning wasn’t just nice, it was necessary.

Dan’s mom, Julia, was the realtor she was scheduled to meet downtown. The perfect location had come onto the market, and Mara called her the second she’d spotted theFOR RENTsign in the window. And of course, Julia had told Dan that they were meeting that evening. He’d been asking about her plans for the space right when Chris barged into the conversation, which made her clam up. Because Mara still didn’t want Chris to know about her bakery plans.

Dan knowing was bad enough. She didn’t want word to get out. Because, if she failed,everyonewould know instead of just one or two people. She needed this to stay quiet until at least the end of the competition, when she’d know whether she had the startup capital to launch the bakery of her dreams.

She met Julia outside the cute brick-faced building just after five. The front door was painted white, and she could still read some of the window paint from the former tenant, a little sandwich shop that had just never taken off. The small café that had been in the space before the sandwich shop had done quite well and was popular, so Mara knew the problem wasn’t the location.

“Oh, Mara, just wait until you see this place!” Julia’s eyes sparkled as she unlocked the front door. The door creaked open, and they stepped into a hardwood-floored sitting area where two little tables still remained. A glass case divided the seating area from the service area. A narrow doorway led into the mostly empty kitchen, though the previous tenants had left behind one standing refrigerator for drink storage.

“If you decide to go with this, whatever they left behind can be yours too if you want it,” Julia added once they’d done a walk-through.

“This place is so cute,” Mara said. It was hard not to let the dreaminess take over. Imagining what this place could really look like if she got her hands on it. Christmastime was her favorite time of year, and she wished she could have it up and running for this year already. A cozy nook by the windows overlooking the sidewalks, the brick fireplace crackling softly while customers ate their baked goodies and drank hot chocolate next to the totally white and sparkling Christmas tree. A shiver ran down her spine. Maybe Chris would even contribute his hot chocolate recipe.

No. She couldn’t think things like that. Because she needed to be smart about what the future held for her and Chris, and the likely answer wasnothing.

How could the answer be anything but? He was Chef Chris and he had one clear love: his career. This morning’s brush with the rumor mill only proved it. He would leak anything to his benefit. So even if they started something nice, it wouldn’t stay nice that way for long.

“It would absolutely be perfect for what you want to bring downtown,” Julia said. Mara had given her a brief overview of what she intended to do here.

“How much is the rent each month?”

“One thousand.”

Mara’s stomach twisted. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t horrible. But it was more than her own mortgage payment, and the thought of making double payments every month—lease, electric, water, and more—on her current catering income was a punch to the gut.

But you’ll have the prize money to count on. That’s going to be the investment you need.

“I’m not sure there are any other spaces downtown that are quite so ideal for the type of business you’re looking to open,” Julia went on. “There are some spaces that came onto the market recently, and I know of one other that will be going up for rent soon, but all of those would require renovations to suit your needs. This, however…” She swept her arm back toward the kitchen. “All permits and licenses were approved once already this year, so I don’t imagine you’d have any problem getting a new one approved.”

Mara nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. She needed to take the plunge.Fake it till you make it.“Yeah. I’m in. I want to move forward with this.”

Julia explained what she’d need in order to formalize the paperwork. But for now, the place could be hers with a deposit of the first month’s rent. The suggestion made Mara’s heart race, but she nodded anyway. Even if she ended up not being able to go through with it, losing the deposit was the only risk she’d face. Her future bakery was worth it. She had to at least try.

Mara scribbled out a check to Julia and handed it over, her heart pounding.

This was it. The first step on the journey to seeing the bakery for real, instead of just a tantalizing dream on a private Pinterest board.

Once they wrapped up their appointment, Mara was ready for a small celebration. She still had an hour before she needed to meet Chris, so she swung by the downtown coffee shop for a chai latte. When she breezed back out onto the street, a brand-new Mercedes Benz was just parking in front of the coffee shop. The car glistened black, practically sparkling. It was hard to look away.

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