Page 42 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“I’m serious,” he says, now poking me with his finger.
The nerve on this guy. I have about five inches on him and probably thirty pounds of muscle, and he’s poking me. I can snap that finger in half by just using my index finger and thumb.
“She’s not to be toyed with.”
“I don’t have fucking time for this.” I reach for the back door to the trunk of the car, but he blocks me.
“I’m not fucking around, Maxheimer. Leave her alone.”
“Uh, I’d love to, but she’s the one who keeps popping up on my farm.”
“Weren’t you the one who visited her last night?”
I roll my eyes. “To make amends. To tell her that I wasn’t some pervert trying to break into her cottage like you have made me out to be.”
“You were creeping around. Is that false?”
I tug on my hair. “What’s the point of this? You think I’ll make a move or something?”
“Absolutely not. She’d never go for a guy like you. So don’t talk to her. You hurt her today, and she’s very fragile.”
I hurt her? When? I can’t recall a thing I said that would have been a direct insult.
“I don’t need you saying things that bring down her spirit. With Joyful Ring is happening, whether you like it or not. So stay out of it.”
This fuck . . .
“It will never do well. We have built the loyalty in this town.”
“Something I’m not concerned about,” Dwight says. “The town is small, numbskull, and I’m looking to snag all the out-of-towners who’ll drive by my farm first. It will be an easy stop. Your farm will be a dying entity soon.”
My anger surges, because how fucking dare he.
“What is your goddamn problem?” I ask, shoving his shoulder, and because he’s a wafer of a man, he falls back into the car behind him. Great. With my luck, he’ll start screamingassault.
He grips his shoulder and looks up at me. “You. You’re the problem.”
“Is this because I beat you at the Christmas Kringle competition last year? Dude, you’re pathetic if it is.”
“That is not the reason. It’s because you are a fake. A phony. You parade around town like the lovable goof, preying on all the townspeople, getting them to fall for your sweet-talking, when in reality, you’re a terrible person. You have been since high school, and it’s about time someone does something about it.” He straightens up.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I am truly confused.
“Naturally, you would forget.” He rolls his eyes and adjusts the lapels of his jacket. “Just stay away from her. This farm is happening whether you like it or not. Enjoy this Christmas season, because next year, you’re going out of business.”
Then he bumps into my shoulder, barely moving me as he walks away.
I glance behind me and catch him getting into his BMW SUV, and music blasts out of the speakers before he takes off.
I scrub my hand over my face, so fucking confused. But then I think about his earlier words. His warning.
With Joyful Ring is happening, whether you like it or not. So stay out of it... The town is small, numbskull, and I’m looking to snag all the out-of-towners who’ll drive by my farm first. It will be an easy stop. Your farm will be a dying entity soon.
Fuck, I want to punch the guy. Yes, we’ve been enemies for a long time, but would that mean I’d threaten his business and work hard to make it go under? Not a chance. We’ve worked for years to make this place successful. And he wants to fucking close our business?Why?
I’m fuming.
We rarely get complaints, so why are Dwight’s words so foreboding?
