Henrik felt a pang of guilt, which he didn’t like. She had volunteered to be on his show after all; it wasn’t his fault that they had to move the decorating schedule up.
She held up the bottle. “Flavored with pine needles and birch sap, apparently.”
“Sounds somewhat promising. I haven’t been impressed by some of their other experiments.”
“Tropical fruits?”
“Exactly—not very Christmassy. More like a trendy summer soda.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.” Then she looked at him in shock, probably because she was thinking the same he was—that this was the first time they’d agreed on something. She disappeared into the bakery with the bottle.
He plugged in the extension cords that were laying on the table, then connected the candle bridges, illuminating the windows with that soft, warm glow that only Christmas could bring. The effect couldn’t have been more different than the harsh light of the gigantic Advent star at his father’s house.
“Aren’t they lovely?” Nora said when she came back. “We’ve had them since our very first Christmas here, when my grandmother took over the patisserie. They were made by a factory in town that’s long gone. I’ve had them repaired several times, but I think they’re wonderful.”
He inspected the brass bridges, with their seven candles lined up on curved arms, adorned with tiny wreaths, each one studded with minute gold-colored pine cones. The central section was made up of three sturdy brass rings. “They’re beautiful.”
She handed him a steaming mug. He inhaled the aromas of pine and birch, and it made him feel as if he were sitting in a wood-fired sauna in Norrbotten. His mother’s family lived near there, and he suddenly longed to visit his relatives up there; it had been a while. He tooka sip, savoring the classic mulled wine spices as well as the sharpness of the pine needles and the acidity of the birch sap.
Nora emptied a box onto the table. Advent stars, a porcelain nativity scene, a wooden church, countless elves and Santas, tinsel, lanterns, and candlesticks tumbled out. They set to work, and he followed her instructions without question. It felt good to bury the hatchet temporarily, because he was pretty sure they would have differing views on a number of issues over the next few days.
Nora handed him a pile of red embroidered cloths, which he laid out on the tables. Then came the slightly shabby wooden candlesticks. Henrik set them out and stuck a candle in each one. Not exactly elegant, but certainly very charming. Nora climbed up onto a stool to hang up one of the Advent stars in the side window, then swore. “Damn. It looks like the nails were removed during the renovations.” She looked at Henrik. “I’ll go and get some more.” She headed into the bakery and returned with a toolbox. They hammered in nails, hung the stars, and plugged them in. Finally she picked up a big cardboard star and carefully unfolded it. “This goes in the front window.” She climbed onto the stool, but couldn’t quite reach. She stretched too far, lost her balance for a second. He caught her, but she pulled away and straightened up.
“Sorry,” she said. The wariness was back.
The warmth and feeling of her body lingered, and Henrik took a deep breath.
Nora looked at him and quickly hung the star. Then she climbed down and fetched her empty mug. “I need some more wine—how about you?” Her cheeks were flushed—from the wine, the heat—and maybe what had just happened? Her breathing was rapid; he could see her chest heaving.
“Please.” He followed her into the kitchen, and they warmed up the rest of the bottle. As the contents of the pan began to steam, she turned to him.
“Aren’t you going to apologize for what happened the other day?”
“You mean yesterday? When you stormed out?”
“No, I mean at the book event.” She cleared her throat. “When you kissed me.”
He gazed at her for a long time. “Why should I apologize? It was a fantastic kiss.” A frank comment, but why lie? He thought about how soft her lips had been and the heat radiating from them. He was suddenly aware that he was standing very close to her. That he could easily kiss her again. Then there was a hissing noise, and Nora gave a start. The wine was boiling furiously, splashing over onto the hot plate. Henrik removed the pan, while Nora grabbed some paper towels and wiped down the stove. They filled the thermos and returned to the café in silence, then poured themselves some wine and sat down.
“I know the production team had something to do with that kiss,” Nora said slowly, blowing on her drink as steam curled into the air. “I mean, the idea that you should flirt with me and then kiss me, but ...”
“Listen,” Henrik broke in. “Don’t you think this could benefit both of us? A little flirtation, a kiss or two? It would make the show more popular. And like I said, it was a fantastic kiss, wasn’t it?”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she conceded, but he knew she felt the same way he did. He had seen her reaction, and surely a kiss couldn’t feel fantastic for just one person, could it? “It’s just that you know so much about me,” Nora went on. “My whole situation, the fact that I’ve made such a mess of things here, and that kiss was so ... intimate somehow.”
He took a cookie and topped it with cheese. He had to take her seriously, though he didn’t quite understand which part of the intimacy she didn’t like.
“I’m sorry, Nora—I didn’t think of it that way. I apologize if you think I crossed a line.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t feel like you took advantage of me or anything. And I’m prepared to admit that it was a wonderful kiss.” There was a faint glint in her eyes, and they looked at each other in silence for a while. He lost himself in those blue eyes. He inhaled sharply, as if he’d forgotten to breathe.
“I was confused more than anything,” Nora went on, “but now I get it. The whole situation is kind of confusing. I don’t know what’s genuine and what isn’t. But now I realize you did it for the cameras, and that’s okay.”
Henrik nodded slowly. For some reason he felt the need to change the subject. “By the way, the production company has given me the green light for the money.” He hadn’t mentioned it before because he’d been worried that the transfer wouldn’t go through, but he’d checked and the payment had been made today. “You’ve received enough to cover your staffing costs for the rest of filming and through the end of December.”
She looked shocked. “That’s too much.”
“It certainly is not. The production company will also cover any other expenses you have during filming—ingredients, electricity, whatever you need.”
