Page 22 of All About Christmas

“You’re going to Cologne .” José claps her hands rapturously, as if she had just announced that we had won not only a trip to Disneyland, but also a meet-and-greet with Mickey Mouse.

My gaze flashes very briefly to Olivier, who looks at José dubiously.

“Cologne?” he repeats. “To the Christmas Market?”

“But... why?” I interrupt her.

José looks at me in surprise. “Well, the location is great, and you have a nice view of the Cathedral, so...”

“No,” I interrupt her again. “I mean: why do Olivier and I have to come along? Isn’t one enough?

” A few days ago, I would have found the idea of working with Olivier for days on end irritating.

Now it mostly makes me nervous. Like being ten again and having to confess to Peter that I sat on his hamster.

Mr. Heckles had fortunately survived the act of terror, but did limp a bit afterwards.

I feel Olivier’s gaze burning into my cheek, and when I dare to take a quick look at him, I see that a deep frown has appeared between his eyebrows. His gaze darkens slightly, and he folds his arms, as if he doesn’t really appreciate my reaction.

José’s mouth forms a soundless O. “Ah, yes. I covered that part while you were still in your other consultation.” With her red-painted nails, she plucks a piece of lint from her blouse.

“See, here’s the thing: one of you is going to replace me, and the Christmas Market is a recurring segment.

Admittedly not always in Cologne, but everything around it is the same.

So, this is an excellent opportunity to familiarize yourselves with the production. ”

She swallows, and I could swear I see her bottom lip quiver.

“Next year, that won’t be possible.” She looks up and blinks her eyes rapidly. “Phew. Sorry about that,” she says with a slight tremor in her voice. She shakes her head, turns around, and puts her glasses on her head. Then she waves two hands at her eyes in an attempt to push back the tears.

“It’s a unique opportunity,” Norbert takes it from her. “José has been doing this for twenty years and...”

An anguished sob comes from José’s corner, and Norbert looks hesitantly at her back, not quite knowing whether to continue.

Finally, he decides to press on. “She knows the routine like no other. It’s rare to have this opportunity leading up to someone’s departure, so...”

“Yes, seems like a good plan, Norbert,” I hasten to say, hoping to spare José a little, who is now muttering something about “rock sushi in Japan.”

“Good. Then it’s settled,” Norbert nods. He looks from Olivier to me. “And how are your segments? Any details you can share?”

My gaze is drawn to Olivier’s. Details. Images flash through my mind again of Olivier’s hands in my hair, my legs around his waist. His Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows. Then he turns his head away.

“No, nothing special,” he says. “I have selected three couples who will go on dates with each other on Christmas Eve. The letter writers will know who will be sitting across the table from them; for the others, it’ll be a surprise.

After the date, they will be taken to the studio where they’ll get to decide whether to enter Mistletoe Madness.

If they choose to do so, a first kiss should follow, sealing the start of something beautiful.

” He sits up. “The paperwork still needs to be sorted out, but we’ll figure that out. ”

“Nice one. And Holly? How’s the wedding going? I heard Pippin mutter something about Olaf being a charlatan?”

I manage to disguise my laughter with a cough.

“Olaf was only joking,” I wave away his claim.

“As for the wedding, everything is going according to plan. We’ve picked out the dress, the catering is in place, and I’ve booked the venue.

I still have to make arrangements for a Christmas tree at the altar, but that should be fine. ”

José has now regained control of her emotions and has turned back into her controlled self. “Sounds lovely, Holly,” she says. “This promises to be a heartwarming broadcast.”

Norbert makes an approving noise and turns to Tom, who is busy with the regular broadcasts. “Tom, did anything happen between Tanja and Guus after he accidentally set her hair on fire with his lighter?”

I fiddle with my things some more after the meeting is over.

I put my pens into my bag one by one and wipe a few tiny crumbs off the tabletop.

From the corner of my eye, I keep an eye on Olivier, who also seems to be taking his time.

I assume he’s dawdling until we are alone.

Because one thing is certain: we need to talk.

But when he has put his notepad in his bag, he walks toward the door without looking back.

“Olivier?” I ask in surprise. “Where are you going? I thought you wanted to talk.”

He stops. The fabric of his shirt seems a little tighter because of his tense shoulders. He turns slowly and tilts his head questioningly.

“About... bridge?” I say hesitantly.

Olivier’s stoic expression almost makes me begin to wonder if I’ve imagined it all. But then he heaves a deep sigh.

A stab of disappointment goes through my stomach. But I refuse to let him know that. He regrets it. Period. And so should I.

It takes me a while to find the right words. “Um. Okay, yeah.” I bite my lip and wiggle back and forth uncomfortably. “So why did you do it?”

He rakes his hand through his hair. “A fit of insanity, I guess?”

I can’t help but feel a little aggrieved. Insanity? He just practically tore the clothes off my body.

Before I can answer, he continues, “We told Tina that nothing is going on between us. I think it would be better if that wasn’t a lie.”

“Hm. So no more games of bridge?”

Olivier hoists his bag a little higher on his shoulder. “No. No more games of bridge.”

I nod in agreement and make my way toward the door.

I look straight at him for a moment longer.

Beneath the surface of his controlled facade something simmers that I can’t quite place.

I step past him, my upper arm grazing feather-light along his chest. When I’m halfway down the path, I turn around for a moment and say playfully, “I always thought you were more of a Solitaire person anyway.”