Two sexy work rivals each want the prestigious promotion for Christmas, but neither expects to want each other.
Her
Competition
by Maggie
Blackbird
Genre
Contemporary Holiday Romance
Two sexy work rivals
each want the prestigious promotion for Christmas, but neither expects to want
each other.
Driven and determined, Celeste Fisher won’t let anything stop her from anchoring the nightly news. She’s sacrificed a personal life, a love life, and left her Ojibway community to make it in the city. And if that means stomping all over her too-handsome and too-competitive rival to nail the position, so be it.
Casual dating and one-night stands are all Reed Dumont can spare while building what he covets most—his career. He’s not about to lose out to Celeste, no matter if he can’t keep his eyes off her sexy legs and admiring her just-as-sexy brain, because sitting in the broadcasting chair is another step up the ladder to thumb his nose at his poor Métis upbringing.
A crisis in a First Nations community sends the adversaries out on the road to cover the story. Snowed in at the hotel, rivals become humans, unable to deny their true private desires. But upon returning to the city, the new lovers face the biggest hurdle that could cost them their budding relationship when one gets the promotion and the other is left holding…frustration. Now they must decide what is worth fighting for: love or career.
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An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes. When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.
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Reed quirked a brow. That was a fast reply. For some reason he’d classed Celeste as
the type of woman who played mind games with men. The kind of lady who perfectly
timed her response and what she’d say. Her quick and warm answer wasn’t what he’d
expected from the too-serious and too-guarded ice queen.
He typed in...
I’ll get you at seven... sharp. Have a great night.
He sat on the bed, staring at his phone, unsure what to feel.
Her message appeared.
I’ll bring the coffee. That way we won’t have to stop anywhere to retrieve any. How do
you take yours?
A surge of surprise was an electrical shock sliding down his spine. His heart jumped
from a lazy stroll to outright jogging.
Double-double. And thank you for offering.
Not a problem. I checked the weather. There’s a storm threatening to move in, but
there’s a good chance it might also pass us.
Thoughtful? Celeste? He blinked. Hmm, she did like to take control, seeing as she was
planning their business trip.
Thanks. Much appreciated. I’ll handle everything from here.
Do you mean handle by packing my Sorrels for me? And my parka? And my toque?
And my dickie?
The text also contained a winking face.
Reed pursed his lips. Was she tossing shade with that smart-aleck answer? Or was she
teasing him by sending the winking face, hoping her message wasn’t misinterpreted?
He’d find out.
I mean handle by making sure I get us safely to the reserve without incident. We have a
story to report.
Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have used the we word. It made them sound like a team, and
they were far from a team.
Oh, I believe you have everything under control. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Have a
good night.
His thumbs were frozen mid-air over the cell phone. Was the first line a dig? Because
what she’d typed sounded like something Celeste from the office would say, not this
newly discovered Celeste from her home.
He’d best bid her goodnight. There was another chapter on his book to finish, and
morning came too soon.
At seven o’clock tomorrow, he’d unearth which Celeste would make an
appearance—the new one who resembled something close to a human being, or the tin
woman in need of a heart from the Wizard of Oz because he’d yet to witness her
bearing anything resembling a red beater on the sleeve of her blouse.
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