Page 25 of Under the Mistletoe with You

‘That must be ...interesting work,’ Christopher replies.

Nailed it.

‘It can be.’

The awkward pauses return, like a chasm that Christopher would like to throw himself into.God, he’s going to have to keep talking about it but be purposefully vague.If he stays calm and uninterested, it’ll be fine.

‘What sort of acting do you do?’

‘I started out in TV originally when I was a teenager doing the odd supporting role, but now I’m predominantly in movies for streaming.’

‘Oh.Nice.’His voice is perhaps a little too flat that time.

There’s a tiny movement where he sees Nash’s eyebrows do this kind of frustrated waggle.It’s truly amazing they can both fit in the room along with this man’s gigantic ego.It’s quite funny really.He has to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing.

If he was feelingreallypetty, he’d ask Nash to suggest some things he might have seen him in, but there’s no way he could control himself.Perhaps if he gets desperate he can try that one tomorrow.This is right out of the Esther Calloway playbook –never let them know how much you know.It should horrify him that he’s potentially turning into his mother, but he’ll worry about that later when he’s finished torturing Nash Nadeau.

Plus, teasing him is a good distraction from the fact that they are sitting in the dark together.

Luckily, before he can think any more about that, the lights come back on.

‘Phew,’ says Nash beside him.‘I was worried we were going to have to sit there awkwardly watching the candle all night.’

Nash can be quite funny, he’ll give him that.

Christopher gets up and goes to the kitchen to check all the appliances are back on properly.The fridge hums healthily, which is a relief – not that there’s any food in there.

The smell of blown-out candle wafts through and Nash appears, leaning against the door frame.

‘Shall we eat something?Just in case—’

‘Don’t even say it,’ Nash says, raising his eyebrows.

Logically, he has known his kitchen is small, hence why half his stuff is in the spare room in boxes.But with Nash standing in the doorway, he realises how little space there is in his kitchen.Is this what the next twenty-four hours are going to be like?Dodging around each other, pretending he doesn’t know who Nash Nadeau the actor is, and acting relatively normal?At least cooking will be a distraction.

‘Does some kind of pasta sound all right to you?’

Nash gives him a nod, and when he turns to look in the cupboards for ingredients, he lets out a tense breath.Food.Focus on the food.That’s what you’re good at.He finds enough bits and bobs to whip up puttanesca, Nigella-style.Not the most Christmassy of meals, but the chilli flakes will warm their bones and it does okay as leftovers.He sets all the ingredients on the counter, including the pans, and gets to work finely chopping some admittedly sad-looking garlic.

Without a word, Nash squeezes past him and takes the big pan that permanently lives on the hob and fills it with water.Christopher tries not to, but he holds his breath as Nash passes, his whole body freezing from the almost-contact.He’s just soeverywhere.It’s annoying.

When Nash goes back to the hob, he makes a conscious effort to breathe like a normal person.At least Nash salts the water liberally – just as he should – though this possibly contradicts all Christopher’s presumptions about joyless Hollywood diets.

‘Is this all right?Sorry, I should have asked if you had any dietary restrictions or anything.’

‘No, this is great.Thanks,’ Nash says, peering down at the cloudy water.‘And I’m not filming right now, so I don’t have to think about it so much.An upside of not doing well-paid action movies is that no one expects me to look like a slab of sirloin.’

He’s still pretty buff though, Christopher thinks.The muscles in his arms are visible through his long-sleeved shirt, and somehow look more pronounced in person than on camera.Probably because he’s not wearing a ton of knitwear.

The room steams up as the water boils, and Christopher feels as if he can’t get enough air, so he opens the window.

‘Is there anything else I can do?’Nash asks.

‘No, please.Go sit down.I’ll call you in.’

It’s a relief when he’s gone because Christopher can just lose himself in the act of cooking.Soon, the air is heavy with the smell of anchovies cooked down in good olive oil, with sharp bursts from the little chilli flakes and garlic.He loses himself in the rhythm of it.The stir and the chop and the add and the taste.

This is why he started baking, really.Yes, the end result is great and he loves to feed people.But the act of it all settles something inside him.It’s a calm kind of focus where only flavour matters.He once tried to explain this to Kit, but she accused him of sounding like the rat fromRatatouille.