Chapter 34
HOLIDAY
The tent is so quiet, I think I could hear a pin drop.
Mayor Thompson stands at the microphone with the envelope in his hand. Every eye in the room is on him. Lucas holds me so tight, I swear I can feel both our pulses racing.
“Without further interruption,” the mayor says, “the winner of the ninety-first annual Merryville Christmas Cookie Competition is—” He opens the envelope with agonizing slowness. “Team Jolly Holiday! Lucas Jolly and Holiday Patterson! Clear winners.”
The cheers are so loud, I can’t hear myself think. Lucas sweeps me up in his arms, spinning me around right here in the middle of the tent. I’m laughing and crying at the same time, my face buried in his neck.
“We did it!” I shout over the noise. “We actually did it!”
“You did it, Peaches!” He sets me down and cups my face in his hands. “You’re so fucking talented.”
Before I can respond, our families are rushing toward us. Mawmaw gets to me first, pulling me into a hug that smells like her perfume and Christmas cookies.
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl!” she says, tears streaming down her face.
My mom is next, then my dad, then Tricia, then Emma. Everyone is hugging and crying and celebrating. The twins are being passed around. Colby is jumping up and down, screaming, “You won! You won!”
Mayor Thompson approaches with the trophy and hands it to Lucas and me together. It’s heavier than I expected, solid and real in my hands. He also gives us an oversized check for five grand.
“Congratulations,” he says. “Very deserved.”
Cameras are flashing. The live stream cameras are focused on us. Someone from the local news is trying to get our attention for an interview.
Lucas and I hold the trophy between us, both grinning.
This is real. After everything, we actually won.
“Speech!” someone in the crowd yells.
“Speech! Speech! Speech!” More people join in.
I look at Lucas, and he nods, squeezing my hand. We step toward the microphone together.
“Thank you so much,” I say, my voice shaking with emotion. “This is—wow. This is incredible. I can’t believe—”
My voice breaks, and Lucas takes over smoothly. “We’re honored to represent Merryville. This town, these people, you are everything to us. Our family. And a huge thank you to everyone who supported and believed in us.”
“Especially to Mawmaw,” I add, finding her close. “None of this would’ve been possible without you entering us into the contest. You always encouraged me in your kitchen.”
She blows me a kiss, still crying.
Patty Morrison approaches the microphone.
“If I may,” she says, “I just want to add that what we witnessed today went far beyond baking. We saw courage. We saw someone stand up for themselves. And that matters more than any competition.” She looks directly at me. “Holiday, you’re not just a talented baker. You’re an inspiration.”
I’m crying so hard, I can barely see.
Marcus, Mary, and Thomas join us, congratulating us individually. Mary pulls me into a warm hug.
“You were exceptional,” she says.
“Thank you so much. I own both your cookbooks. You’re one of my heroes.”
“And I’m honored to call you a colleague.” She smiles. “Actually, I’d love to talk to you privately before I leave today. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Of course! Absolutely.”
“Wonderful. Find me when things settle down.”
She moves away, and I’m pulled into another round of hugs. Jake lifts me off the ground. Hudson kisses the top of my head. Emma is crying almost as much as I am.
Lucas and I are posing for photos with the trophy when I hear shouting from the entrance.
“Fuck you!”
My blood runs cold.
Dominic.
Everyone turns toward the commotion. The security guards who escorted him out are struggling with someone at the tent entrance.
Dominic’s voice is hoarse, raw.
He’s charging into the tent. His chef’s whites are disheveled. His face is red and blotchy, and he looks completely unhinged.
“This is bullshit!” he screams, pointing at the judges’ table.
Mayor Thompson steps forward. “Sir, you need to leave—”
“She belongs to me!” Dominic’s voice cracks.
“Nah,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “She doesn’t.”
His eyes land on Lucas, and something in his expression shifts to pure rage.
“You!” He charges toward us. “You ruined my life!”
Everything happens so fast.
Dominic lunges at Lucas with his fists raised. I scream. Lucas pushes me behind him. But before Dominic can reach us, two bodies intercept him.
Jake and Hudson.
Hudson catches Dominic’s fist mid-swing, his face cold and terrifying. Jake has Dominic’s other arm twisted behind his back in a hold that makes Dominic cry out.
“You’re fucking done here,” Hudson says, his voice deadly calm.
“Get off me!” Dominic thrashes against them, but it’s no use. The Jolly brothers are huge. “She was mine! He stole everything from me!”
“Holiday was never yours,” Jake says, tightening his grip. “And you need to leave before I break both your legs.”
Seconds later, Sammy walks up, rears back his fist, and slams it into Dominic’s face. “That’s for stealing my sister’s recipes.”
Sammy’s fist connects with Dominic’s jaw again, and the sound echoes through the tent. Everyone gasps.
Blood trickles from Dominic’s split lip. He’s still struggling against Jake and Hudson’s hold, but he’s dazed now.
“And another thing.” Sammy steps closer, his voice carrying through the silent tent. “I saw your Michelin-starred cookies. The ones you’re so famous for? You didn’t create them. My sister did when we were teenagers.”
Whispers fill the area as the cameras capture every word.
“That’s not—” Dominic starts.
“Don’t lie,” Sammy cuts him off. “I was there when she created those recipes in our parents’ kitchen. Funny, they showed up on your menu with your name attached as the creator. Piece of shit.”
Mary Carter is standing nearby, her eyes wide. Patty Morrison has pulled out her phone, recording the whole interaction. Marcus and Thomas are watching with identical expressions of disgust.
“The lavender shortbread,” Sammy continues, counting on his fingers. “The brown butter snickerdoodles. The Earl Grey macarons. All Holiday’s recipes. All credited to you. Care to explain why that is?”
“This is slander!” Dominic spits blood onto the ground. “I will sue you—”
“Sue me,” Sammy says. “I have proof. There are photos of them from over a decade ago on social media.”
“We all knew,” Mary Carter says suddenly, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Everyone turns to look at her. “Everyone in the industry knew Dominic was taking credit for other people’s work.
We just couldn’t prove it or pinpoint who was feeding him recipes.
” She looks directly at Dominic. “But now we can.”
Patty nods. “I’ve heard rumors for years. Noticed how so many young chefs he mentored left the industry entirely.”
“This is ridiculous—” Dominic tries again.
“Is it?” Thomas Reeves steps forward. “Because I competed against you in Paris years ago. And the dessert you presented? I know it was one of your sous-chef’s creations. She interned with me and you took credit for her work, too.”
The tent has gone completely silent except for the sound of random gasps.
Security is rushing over now, along with two police officers.
“Assault,” one officer says, looking at Dominic’s bloody lip. “Who threw the punch?”
“I did,” Sammy says immediately, holding up his hand. “And I’d do it again.”
“Sir, you can’t just—”
“He’s been threatening my sister for weeks,” Sammy says, but they arrest him, too.
“No, please do not take him,” I say.
“That’s the rules,” the officer says.
“It’s fine,” Sammy says, laughing. “I’ll beat his ass in jail, too.”
The officer looks between Sammy and Dominic. “You two won’t be together.”
They cuff Dominic and my brother, then escort them out.
“This isn’t over!” Dominic shouts as they drag him toward the exit. “I will destroy all of you! My lawyers will—”
“Your lawyers will what?” Mary Carter calls after him. “Defend you against theft? Against fraud? I’m sure every major food publication in the country will see this. By tomorrow morning, everyone will know exactly who Dominic Laurent really is. With proof.”
Dominic’s face goes white, then he starts screaming in French, thrashing against the officers as they force him out of the tent. This time, he doesn’t return.
I’m shaking from the spike of adrenaline. My brother just punched someone. Mary Carter just destroyed Dominic’s career on live stream.
Lucas wraps his arms around me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage. “Holy shit.”
My dad is already on his phone, probably calling a lawyer. Mom looks torn between being proud and horrified. Tricia is filming everything on her phone.
“Don’t worry about me!” Sammy calls out as they lead him away. “Worth it!”
Somehow, through this disaster, I laugh because that’s Sammy. He’s always had my best interests in mind.
The crowd erupts again—this time in support of my brother. People are yelling his name. Someone starts a “Free Sammy” chant, and half the tent joins in.
Mayor Thompson looks completely overwhelmed. “Let’s…let’s get back to celebrating our winners, shall we?”
The energy shifts back to us. People congratulate us again, though now everyone wants to talk about Sammy punching Dominic. The local news is having a field day.
Lucas keeps me close, his arm around my waist. “Your brother is scary sometimes.”
“I know. But he’s not wrong.”
“No, he’s definitely not wrong.”
“Did you see how Dominic flinched?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Pussy.”
Laughter falls from my mouth.
After twenty minutes, Mary Carter catches my eye from across the tent and gestures toward a quiet corner. I excuse myself from Lucas and make my way over to her.
“First,” she says when I reach her, “is your brother going to be okay?”
“Yeah. My dad left to bail him out. Sammy knew what he was doing.”