Dear Enemy by Kristen Callihan EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Kristen Callihan
- Language: English
- Genre: Billionaire Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Delilah
Grandma Maeve used to say hate will toughen your dough; a good bake is
made with love. I don’t know about hate, but my stress seems to be leaking
out all over my brioche. The dough has become tacky and warm when it
should be smooth and cool. I’ve overkneaded it in my distraction.
Mama’s birthday brunch is tomorrow, and I haven’t heard from Sam in
days. Sam, who was supposed to get Mama’s present while I do the
cooking. Sam, who promised that she would find Mama something “ahmazing!” and not to worry about paying her back. Well, I do. Especially
since Sam is almost always short on cash. When she’s flush with money, it
usually means trouble.
The surface of the dough clings to my palm, and I utter a sound of
disgust. Scooping the mass up, I dump it in the garbage and start arranging
my mise en place all over again. I’m a professional chef, not a baker, and it
shows. But I’m determined to up my game.
My phone dings with a text just as I’m opening a packet of yeast.
Unknown number: Sam, if you don’t get your ass back here
in 30 min, I’m calling the police.
It’s such an odd text I can only stare at the phone and frown. I don’t
recognize the number, but “Sam” has me hesitating. Weird how I was just
thinking of my sister, Sam. Then again, Sam is a common name. This
“Sam” might be a dude, for all I know.
Another text lights up my phone.
I mean it. I’m not falling for your “I’m just a sweet little ol’
southern belle” shit anymore. I know you took the watch.
You WILL return it.
Now this gives me pause. Many times has Sam accused me of
complaining about her sweet little ol’ southern belle act. A glance at the
phone also reminds me that it’s April 1.
Rolling my eyes, I dust off my hands and pick up the phone.
This has got to be the lamest April Fools’ joke yet, Sam. At
least pretend to be someone other than yourself.
Immediately, I get a response.
Are you shitting me? Mistaken identity? That’s what you’re
going with? Cut the crap. Get. Over. Here. Now.
Annoyed, I type back harder than usual.
This isn’t even “Sam’s” number so I’m the one calling
bullshit on YOU. Stop with the funny business. I’m busy
making Mama’s surprise brunch.
Please. I’ve tasted your cooking. I’d be safer eating canned
food.
Oh, that’s just low and uncalled for. I fire back a response.
You know, Sam, you’re kind of acting like . . . an asshole.
There’s a pause, and I can almost feel Sam wondering if she should
drop the charade. When she finally answers, it isn’t what I expect.
Did you just quote Sixteen Candles to me?
Well, duh. It’s my favorite lm, despite the fact “you” get to
star in it.
I have to smile a little. It always stuck in my craw that the main
character has the same name as my sister and not me. Something Sam used
to needle me with all the time.
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