Page 88 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

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MARA

Mara kept clenching her fists.

Every few minutes she’d look down and find herself doing it again. She’d relax and take a deep breath and force her jaw to loosen slightly. She’d have to be careful once she was mic’ed up so the audience wouldn’t hear her grinding her teeth during the competition.

She tried to think happy thoughts, but with Chris Denton in her presence, it was nearly impossible to do anything other than watch him.

“I really think we’re going to have an amazing competition, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to return to Glenford,” Chris was saying, standing at the front of the auditorium as if he were giving an Oscar acceptance speech. He’d been talking for a full minute and didn’t show any signs of slowing.

She was stuck somewhere between lost puppy and resentful bulldog. More bulldog than puppy, if she was being honest. Chris Denton was a certifiable celebrity asshole. He strutted instead of walked; he smirked instead of smiled.

Despite all that, he still was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on and she felt her lady parts clench at the sight of him. But she refused to let his chef-y hunkiness derail her.

Winning the gingerbread house competition was the first step in an important line of goals, which would lead to her dream of opening her own bakery, thanks to the sizable winnings the network was offering this year. Competing against Chris was just the unfortunate consequence of making shit happen for herself.

She just hadn’t thought he’d be so celebrity arrogant soquickly. He’d only had the show for four years, after winning a head-to-head competition on the Food Network, but evidently some people let their celebrity status go to their head faster than others.

“And hey, whatever happens in the competition,” Chris said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gleaming, pressed slacks, “I think we can all agree that giving Glenford a little boost, in the economy and in the media, is good for everyone.” His gaze swung toward her but only for a glance. Like a warning slap. “No matter who wins.”

Applause erupted ferociously, filling the auditorium, and she forced herself not to tense up again. She’d known she’d be competing against a celebrity chef and was expecting this level of response to whoever turned up to compete. But knowing it and experiencing it were two different things. And the fact that it was Chris Denton, Glenford’s hometown hero, according to all the hype put out by the network, the response from the eager audience was…annoying. He was just a chef with a TV show for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he saved a family from a burning building or stopped an out-of-control train from running over someone’s puppy. He cooked for a living, just like she did. The only difference was he did it in front of cameras.

When the director of the competition finally kicked the prima donna out of the spotlight, Mara sighed audibly. Finally.Relief.

Though for how much longer? This was a gingerbread house competition, sure, which seemed innocuous enough. But it was arealitybaking competition, which ensured some amount of drama, manufactured or otherwise. And with Chris strutting around like a New York City peacock, she could only imagine the sort of annoying obstacles he’d come up with to attempt to derail her.

After introductions were made and everyone was on the same page with the schedule, the camera crew, set hands, and makeup artists started the trek toward the kitchen to begin familiarizing themselves with the setup. The multipurpose room had been converted into two enormous separate kitchens where each contestant could safely bake, alongside their respective teams of three assistants each.

Cameras had been outfitted at various points along the ceiling, as well as the standard cameras set up along the front and sides of the set to capture every bit of drama and gingerbread unfolding. The director pointed out their individual stations, and as Mara went over to her spacious, gleaming industrial kitchen space, she couldn’t help but notice that Chris stood directly across from her in his own.

Watching her with those crystalline blue eyes.

A shiver coursed through her; she wished it hadn’t. It was impossible to prevent, apparently. Her body had other ideas when it came to Chris Denton, but she could rest assured that it was strictly a physical reaction. It didn’t mean she forgave him for what he did, or even liked him. Shedefinitelydidn’t like him.

Chris had proved just how much of an asshole he really was when they were in high school. Sure, she had been the one caught kissing another guy at the school dance. But she hadn’t kissed him first—he’d stolen the kiss from her. Chris had just never cared enough to even hear her side.

Instead, he’d made up his mind and that was it. After he’d moved to New York City, he’d fallen off the Glenford radar. At leastherradar. Mostly. Dammit, not really. She’d never admit this aloud, but she followed his career, a tiny bit jealous at how quickly it took off, but she always made surenotto like any of his posts.

“Okay! So are we ready to start filming for our great gingerbread competition?” The director’s harsh but jovial voice boomed through the set, and both the camera crew and baking participants rumbled their agreement. As part of the competition, they were to choose their baking assistants from a pool of students from the Glenford Culinary School, and Mara had made sure to pick the best and brightest of the recent grads. There were still plenty of qualified candidates to choose from, but Mara liked to think her choices would give her an advantage. She had no idea if Chris had hand chosen his assistants or if that had been the job of his PA, who was either following him around like a lost puppy or had his eyes trained on his phone as he furtively typed away. Chris’s laugh floated toward her followed by a flurry of female titters, as if he said something hilariously funny. She rolled her eyes. He was just using Glenford, it was painfully obvious, by playing the small-town-hero role to the hilt. In fact, if she’d known that he was going to be the celebrity chef the network had in mind when she’d auditioned for this competition months ago, she might have thought twice.

No, scratch that. She would have done it anyway. That’s how badly she wanted to win.

Mara washed her hands vigorously in the shiny new sink and got to work directing her assistants. Today would be a short filming day, but with how agitated Chris’s mere presence made her, she knew she needed to stay more focused than ever.

“Mara.”

A deep bass jolted her from her thoughts, and when she looked up, Chris stood right in front of her. He wore an intolerable smirk, one that screamedI’m the top dog here.

“Yes. That’s me.” She cleared her throat and reached for a paper towel. Chris held out his hand…for a handshake. She blinked, staring at him as she dried her hands. “Uh, don’t you remember me?”

Chris narrowed his eyes, lowering his hand. “Vaguely, yes.”

“Right.” She tossed the paper towel, hackles raised. All it took was one word to her face to make her realize just howawayhe’d gone from that young man she’d fallen in love with in high school. “Thought you might have remembered just how well we used to know each other. But I can’t expect you to keep so many names and faces straight now that you’re a celebrity chef. I mean, hell, you all but forgot about Glenford. I’m shocked you even came back for this.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed to slits, and she could tell that he’d abandoned whatever game plan he’d shown up with. “And why wouldn’t I come back for something like this? My memories of Glenford aremostlypositive, and nothing would please me more than to support the community where I grew up. I would think that you, of all people, would appreciate that.”

She felt her shoulders creeping up to her ears and forced them down with a shrug, using a nearby rag to wipe the countertop to avoid looking at him, even though it was far from dirty. “Thought Glenford was beneath you now, you know? I mean, you don’t even come back to visit your own parents.”

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