Page 97 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

And nothing would be clear if they started having regular sex.

A few journalists lingered on the sidelines for a little while as Mara and Chris continued working. Every so often, she’d hear a sharp swear word from Chris, or a condescending“Come on.” It was like he was getting sourer by the minute, and when they bumped into each other, back to back, Chris unraveled.

“Jesus Christ, watch where you’re going,” he spat.

“Excuse me! It’s not like this is my space or anything.”

“Yeah well, it’s not like I intentionally set the oven on fire so eight of us could cram into this one kitchen area,” Chris returned.

“Must be hard for you to concentrate and watch where you’re going,” Mara said. “With all the cameras and journalists here. All that attention makes you jumpy. Mr. Will Do Anything For Media Coverage.”

Chris sneered. “Sure. Looks like you have your own fan club in attendance. So let’s see who’ll do anything for the media, okay?”

He stormed away, and Mara only stared after him, his words cycling through her. That had been a not-so-subtle reference to Dan, which incited a strange cocktail of emotions. Part of her was almost flattered that he noticed Dan paying attention to her. That meant…something, surely.

But what?

Chris stood at the far line of counters, inspecting some of his team’s work. She tried not to watch, but she could hear the undertones of his anger coursing through the multipurpose room. Gazes snapped his way from all around the room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chris asked, leaning in closer to his helper to really look her in the eye. “This is a gingerbread competition. Not a school bake sale. If you don’t know how to ice the gingerbread, then I need you to get the fuck out of my kitchen. Do you hear me? I don’t have time or room for idiots.”

The multipurpose room quieted a bit after that outburst, and Mara could see the journalists craning their necks. A few of them even had phones poised.

Mara went about her work, unwilling to let Chris distract her further. Everyone in the room knew he was an asshole, and she needed to stay focused. For all she knew, it was a distraction tactic and she was in on it. Who knew with this guy?

When she looked up again, she saw Chris rubbing at his face. And then he placed his hands on the woman’s shoulders and murmured, “I’m sorry, Cora. That was out of line. Let’s start over.”

But within the hour, one of the crew members showed her the consequences of Chris’s temper. A video was already circulating the internet; one of the journalists had captured the tail end of it, F-bombs and all. The headlines touted everything from “Overheated Cook” to the crew member who got the “serratingof her life.” But none of them mentioned, or probably were even aware of, the fact that Chris had apologized directly after. Granted, apologies rarely went viral.

Mara couldn’t help but follow the drama—especially since she’d been present for it. She peeked at her phone on occasion, checking comments and looking at the hashtags trending around theCooking with Chrisworld. Chris himself looked dour for the remainder of the day once his assistant had shown him the video. And knowing that he knew about it, yet had barely flinched? It just made her even more curious about what his celebrity life really was like.

This was probably par for the course. People twisting things out of context. Only publishing his worst moments.

So much for focus. When the director called a halt to filming for the day, she breathed a sigh of relief. And as everyone started to file out of the multipurpose room, her curiosity got the better of her.

“Hey,” she said, once Chris had stored the last of his dough. She crossed her arms, studying the ground as she prepared herself to make the offer better left unsaid. “You want to come grab a cup of coffee with me?”

Chris turned to her, looking a little startled, but mostly suspicious. He studied her for a few moments, and then he blurted out, “Let’s go.”

7

CHRIS

The whole point of the competition was a slight brand adjustment on the part of the network.

That’s what they’d pitched to Chris when they first informed him that he would be participating. The plan was to reach a new, broader demographic who placed greater emphasis on family values and comprised much higher purchasing power.

And what better way to do that than return to his hometown and win a baking competition?

Except returning to his hometown was way more work than he’d bargained for. And now he had a serious problem—his little bitch fest that afternoon had gone viral, and everybody and their grandmother was sharing his blow-up with their social networks. If he’d been trying to ingratiate himself with the family demographic, spewing f-bombs at a woman half his size wasn’t helping things.

One of the journalists had captured it and spread it—probably Dan—and unfortunately, the show contract allowed for little dramatic slips like these under the Teasers and Previews clause. Really, this was exactly the sort of thing they wanted, in theory.

But things felt more precarious than ever. Because the only route to truly achieving what he wanted—an international cooking tour that the network still hadn’t greenlighted—would only come on the heels of giving them what they wanted: an ultra-family-friendly baking competition with high ratings.

Chris followed Mara out of the multipurpose room. Once they were bathed in the cool quiet of the hallways and heading toward a small lounge where coffee and snacks were on hand all day long, he finally let a sigh escape him.

“I’m surprised that you’re letting it bother you,” Mara said, a few paces in front of him.

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