There was color in his cheeks as if it were cold outside, and he looked stressed—different from the way he came across on TV anyway. Nowhere near as proper and correct—his cheeks were unshaven, his hair was tousled, and there was something about his expression that Bente couldn’t place. She concluded that he was much better looking in reality.
Didrik was known all over the country, and his fame had come pretty quickly. He had started appearing on TV at about the same time as Bente. The difference was that Didrik Holgersson had immediately become everyone’s favorite, and these days his popularity was well established. His pitch-perfect accounts of historical events, his skill in linking them to current affairs, and his ability to communicate with everyone—even those who weren’t particularly interested in history—had made viewers embrace him without hesitation.
Bente watched him as he ran his fingers through his hair, completely unaffected by the curious glances of everyone in the restaurant. He came over to Elnaz, gave her a quick hug, and sat down on the barstool beside her.
Bente slid back behind the bar and took an order from an elderly couple who wanted her to recommend a red to go with their burgers. She then fetched a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from the Napa Valley, opened it, and served them. When she was done, she looked over at Didrik and Elnaz, met his dark gaze, and asked if he would like something to drink.
“Have you two met before?” Elnaz asked. “Bente Hammar—Didrik Holgersson.”
Bente held out her hand across the bar.
Didrik’s grip was firm, his hand warm.
“Bente worked with TV24 for several years recommending wines, and we worked together on a food show,” Elnaz added.
“I loved your tips on wine,” Didrik said with a smile.
“Thanks. Nice to hear.”
So he knew who she was. She wondered how much he knew. At least he was polite enough not to say anything; he merely asked for a glass of wine. Bente served him the same red that Elnaz was drinking, and took the opportunity to top off Elnaz’s glass just as Tomas walked by.
“Maybe you should do less chatting and see if those two would like more wine,” he snapped, nodding in the direction of the couple with the burgers whose glasses were still almost half full.
“This is a former colleague of mine.” Bente smiled, doing her best to ignore the sharpness of Tomas’s tone.
He glanced at Didrik, whom he obviously recognized, then fixed his gaze on Elnaz. “Really? Maybe you were one of the gang that ran off without paying the check!” He laughed loudly, then headed for the till.
Bente flushed bright red. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. How could he do that in front of Elnaz, someone she respected and admired? She gave the two of them a quick smile. “I’d better get back to work. Great to see you again, Elnaz. Good to meet you, Didrik.”
She hardly dared look at him.
“Same.” Elnaz was clearly embarrassed.
Bente went over to the couple with the burgers and asked if everything was to their satisfaction, then opened a bottle of fruity Pinot Noir for one of their rare regular customers.
A while later Elnaz caught Bente’s eyes. “We’re leaving now—it really was nice to see you.”
Bente came around the bar. “Thanks, good to see you too. I hope everything continues to go well.” She couldn’t stop thinking about the bottle—what if this was fate? Elnaz had turned up just when Bente had gotten an idea for a TV show—maybe she could mention it, see what Elnaz thought? She and TV24 had agreed on apause—perhaps this might be a way back?
“Take care of yourself,” she heard herself say. Apparently the little pitch she had prepared was staying in her head. She gave Elnaz a quick hug and nodded to Didrik before they disappeared out into the spring twilight.
A couple of hours before closing, Tomas picked up a bottle from under the bar. “What’s this? It’s open.” He shook the bottle, held it up to the light. “Who opened it?”
“I did. A customer wanted a glass of Pinot Noir,” Bente replied.
“We have lots of wines by the glass.”
“This was one of our regulars.”
Tomas was clearly irritated. “This will just be wasted now. Brilliant idea, Bente. A straight loss.”
“I know it’s expensive, but I can sell the rest of the bottle before the end of the evening.” Bente tried to remain calm and composed. Not to let herself be affected by Tomas’s bad mood.
“It doesn’t go with any of the dishes.”
“No, because the menu is completely unimaginative,” she mumbled.
“What did you say?”
