23
While Henrik was away in Stockholm, Nora worked hard to prepare for the bookstore event. Though the café was closed for the renovations, she was able to work in the bakery kitchen. The night before, she made Henrik’s gingerbread cookies. She noted that there was no allspice in the recipe and thought it couldn’t hurt to add a little. She would, however, use brown butter as per the recipe, and see how it turned out.
The wonderful smell of toasted cloves, ginger, allspice, cardamom, and cinnamon filled the air. She put a large chunk of butter in a saucepan, whisking it constantly to make sure it didn’t burn, and the slightly nutty aroma mixed with the spices was something else. This was going to be good.
Once the cookies were in the oven, she turned up the volume on the Christmas music she had put on to get her in a festive mood and sat down with a list of everything she baked and sold. She wanted to surprise Henrik with a shorter list when he returned. She had also been in touch with Jonathan—the Veg Guy—about local grain, and was planning to experiment with an exciting new sourdough. She was going to try to do things her way and see how it turned out.
She returned the following day and worked to the accompaniment of the carpenters hammering and sawing away in the café area. They had put up a heavy curtain over the entrance, and she had to make a real effort not to pull the curtain aside and take a peek. She buttered the crispbread and added thick slices of Christmas cheese, with small wedges of fresh figs on top. Sliced the sourdough and topped it with a tangy mixture of stewed apple, crème fraiche, and blue cheese, garnished with toasted crushed almonds. Then she prepped for the next day, when the café was due to reopen.
The changes would bring results, but only gradually, and the bookstore event would provide a welcome bonus, but not enough to save her. She dreaded broaching the subject with Henrik tonight—but she really needed his help.
Later that afternoon Nora brought the food she’d prepared over to the bookstore. Like Nymans, it was a local institution. She set it all out on a long table, alongside large thermoses of mulled wine. The store was decorated with amaryllis and Christmas roses, and Advent stars shone in every window.
People started to arrive, and the TV crew filmed them as they helped themselves to food. When the star of the show arrived a few minutes later, the hum of conversation stopped for a few seconds and everyone simply stared at him. Including Nora. God, she’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. He pulled off his hat; the wet snow falling outside had made his dark hair go curly. He met her gaze and gave her a quick smile, but there was something different about him. She didn’t know what it was, but he looked tense.
A lady came over to speak to him, and he seemed to relax. She understood why he dreamed of running his own bakery—he really did seem to enjoy talking to people. And baking on TV wasn’t the same as being a professional baker. Whatever she had thought about Henrik in the past, he clearly loved baking.
He headed over to the makeshift stage and draped his jacket over an empty chair. Nora noticed that it was dripping, and a little puddle formed on the floor. Then he positioned himself front and center, and everyone sat down. Malin, the store owner, introduced him. As soon as he started talking about himself, his baking, and his latest book, the tension in his face disappeared. Nora couldn’t deny that he was made for the limelight. He was putting on a performance, and now that it didn’t involve her patisserie, she could see the magic—and why everyone loved him so much. The audience was spellbound. He made them laugh, even flirted a little with the ladies near the front. She caught herself smiling as he talked. He definitely had that charisma that only a real TV star had.
“I love V?stervik, and I feel very much at home here,” he said about the filming. He glanced over at Nora. “Almost too much.” The look he gave her made her heart flip. The whole audience turned to her; they clearly understood the point he was making, because everyone laughed. What had she missed? She had made both the filming and his life in V?stervik pure hell. Yes, things had been a little more pleasant recently, and there had been the odd touch now and again, maybe a look here and there, but nothing on the level he was insinuating. Was this some new message for the cameras?
“And tomorrow is the grand reopening of the patisserie,” he went on. “Newly renovated, and with lots of delicious baked goods, needless to say. We look forward to seeing you all there.”
A long line formed in front of the table where Henrik was signing copies of his book. When there weren’t too many people left, Nora bought a copy and joined the line. When it was her turn, Henrik glanced up in surprise. “You didn’t pay for that, did you?”
“I spent the very last of my hard-earned cash on it,” she replied, holding it out with a smile.
Henrik wrote something. She took it back and read: To Nora, wishing you many happy hours with this book. Hopefully together with me. Henrik
She looked at him, and he met her gaze with a smile, which made her heart race. What was going on? And why was she reacting like this?
There were people waiting behind her, and she stepped aside. Read the dedication again. Hopefully together with me. He hated her, and the feeling was mutual. She couldn’t help it if she thought he was good-looking.
When the signing was over, Henrik got up and mingled with the guests. He tried the canapés, and she watched as he picked up one of her gingerbread cookies and took a bite. He chewed slowly, then looked surprised. He took another bite.
She smiled to herself as she went over to him. “So what do you think?”
“It tastes like my gingerbread cookies, and yet not.”
“A little better, perhaps?”
Yet another bite, followed by a smile. “Okay, I admit it—a little better.” Nora realized that she had rarely seen him smile. Not like this, straight at her. Her heart flipped again and she inhaled sharply.
“What did you do?” he asked when he’d finished the cookie.
“I toasted the spices and added a pinch of allspice.”
“Delicious.” Another smile. “Did you miss me while I was away?”
“I’m not sure if you can miss an irritating mosquito.”
He laughed. “Is that how you see me?”
“Maybe more like an angry wasp. But I know you can be quite nice when you want to make the effort.”
He gave a brief nod. “Thanks. I think. And right back at you.”
So was it possible for the two of them to be nice to each other?
She cleared her throat. She hated having to bring this up, but she had no choice. “This evening has helped my financial situation, and I’m very grateful for that, but I still don’t know how I’m going to survive until ...”
“I told you not to worry—I still have a couple of days to fix things, don’t I?”
She nodded, then sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I ought to say something to the producer. It doesn’t feel right to keep quiet.”
“Like I said, don’t worry—I’ll speak to Elnaz. I have a plan, but I have to get a couple of things in place before I bring it up with them. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“Right now I’m not sure I can last the week,” she said quietly, leaning closer to him. “My accountant advised me to close before my financial difficulties escalate further.”
“Don’t do that. Trust me, okay?” His expression was serious.
“But I . . .”
And then he bent down and kissed her—in front of everyone, in front of the cameras. It was a long kiss. He pulled her close and she didn’t break free. The ground beneath her feet appeared to have given way, and her entire body was throbbing. She wanted that kiss to go on forever.
When he finally let go, she opened her eyes and stared at him.
“It was the only way to shut you up,” he said, then moved away to talk to an elderly couple. Nora glanced around; yes, the TV cameras were pointing straight at her.
She stood there with her legs trembling. What the hell had come over Henrik Eklund?
“The light is so good today that we thought we’d start out here.” Elnaz nodded to the camera operator to start filming.
It was the following morning. They were standing outside the café, and Nora was about to see the results of the renovation for the first time.
Henrik was standing right behind her; she could feel his presence, like a warm barrier. She hardly dared look at him, which annoyed her. That kiss ... She had felt something, so how could he behave as if nothing had happened? She had been so overwhelmed that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. What if it wasn’t just for the TV show? What if he’d kissed her because he wanted to? And then she got annoyed at herself for thinking about it so much. She never brooded over anything as trivial as a kiss. Then again, she had never kissed anyone she had to see every day.
They unlocked the door and she stepped inside, full of anticipation. The first thing that hit her was the smell of fresh paint and sawdust. She ignored the camera that was following her and looked around. What she saw made her gasp and forget her agitation over Henrik.
Everything was reminiscent of the way the café had looked in its early days, but with a fresh, modern twist. The wallpaper was still there, but the vanilla trim that had yellowed over the years had been painted a crisp white, and the wall behind the counter was now covered in small square tiles. Black shelves affixed to the wall provided space for the bread to be displayed, and beneath them a pale wooden countertop ran the length of the entire wall. The long glass counter had been replaced by three freestanding glass cubes framed in the same pale wood. The cubes contained glass shelves and wooden trays where all the cakes, cookies, and sandwiches were laid out.
Renée stood behind the counter, beaming with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Nora nodded in agreement.
The café area was now equipped with rustic wooden furniture. The benches that lined the walls had been varnished and reupholstered in strawberry-red fabric.
Blown away, Nora turned to Henrik. “It’s fantastic!”
He pulled off his hat. Once again the dampness had made his hair curl, and she felt a strong desire to touch it. She remembered the feeling of his rough beard on her chin when he kissed her, and suddenly her whole body was tingling.
He looked around. “It is, isn’t it?”
Nora cleared her throat and pushed aside all thoughts of Henrik’s beard, which she also thought was fantastic. And that kiss, which was more than fantastic. “I love it,” she said sincerely.
Henrik went over to a table and sat down, and she took a seat opposite him. Someone had already made coffee, and a production assistant brought them each a cup.
“We found pictures from the opening in 1940. The wall was tiled, and there were black shelves,” Henrik explained.
Nora nodded. “The place has been renovated a few times over the years, and not always for the better.”
“We thought we’d give you something new that felt well planned and classic. The fact that we did it all in one go meant we could bring a coherence to it that it lacked before.”
Elnaz came over and asked Nora to record a piece directly for the camera. Nora practically skipped into the bakery. The renovation was better than she could ever have imagined.
They sat down in front of a static camera. Elnaz was grinning.
“So can you tell us what actually happened yesterday?”
Nora stared at her. Of course they were bound to ask about the kiss. She cleared her throat. “Henrik kissed me yesterday—I’m assuming it was for the TV cameras.”
Elnaz frowned. “You can’t say that.”
“But it’s true.”
Elnaz shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that, but I do know there’s a spark between you two. How was the kiss?”
“The kiss was ...” Nora looked down at the floor. Why lie? It wasn’t as if she was swearing her undying love for Henrik by telling the truth. “The kiss was good. Absolutely amazing, in fact. But don’t tell Henrik,” she said with a wink, which made Elnaz smile again.
“That’s great—we’ll save the rest for tomorrow.”
They returned to the café, and Nora sat down with Henrik again.
“Are you putting up the Christmas decorations this evening?” Elnaz asked as she joined them with a cup of coffee. Renée brought over a tray of cheese rolls baked according to Nora’s new recipe: sourdough made with spelt flour from a farmer a few miles to the north.
Nora took a bite. It was perfection. “I was going to do it later in the week—I thought that was what we’d agreed on?” She’d already arranged to decorate the café with her friends as they did every year, with mulled wine and Christmas music to set the mood.
“We really need to get it done tonight if we’re going to fit everything in,” Elnaz insisted.
Tonight? Well, she would make it work, but it would be impossible to gather all her friends on such short notice.
“What colors do you go for?” Henrik asked, trying a cheese roll. Nora frowned at him. What kind of a dumb question was that? She was about to give a snippy answer when he smiled at her. “What’s this?” He held up the roll.
“My new sourdough. Made with local spelt flour.”
He nodded. “It’s delicious.”
“The usual colors—red and green, gold. Are you worried about my poor taste in Christmas decorations?”
“No, no, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Henrik’s expression was cool.
Cool. How could he possibly be cool after that damned kiss? She regretted what she’d said to Elnaz, or rather to the camera. To the entire Swedish nation.
Then she realized that the problem lay not with his reaction, but with hers. The fact that she couldn’t forget about it. She simply had to accept that he’d done it for the cameras. This was about ratings, and she needed to get on board with that. But why hadn’t he involved her in his plans? Was he hoping that she would simply go along with it? And why had he decided to kiss her?
“Don’t tell me you’re in the Melania Trump Christmas camp?” she said acidly.
“Melania Trump?”
“Yes—frosty and ethereal and nothing but white, white, white.” She narrowed her eyes. “You remember—she created a forest of fir trees dripping with plastic icicles that made the White House look like the white witch’s ice castle in Narnia. What she did to Christmas was pure sacrilege. Christmas should be luxurious, warm, and inviting.”
“I understand.” Henrik nodded calmly, but then exchanged a quick glance with Elnaz, which made Nora even crosser. They really wanted her to believe that Henrik was interested in her, but she was smarter than that. She was mainly disappointed because they had talked so openly and honestly with each other at Harry’s—but then the first thing he did was to manipulate her by flirting, then kissing her on camera.
“Do whatever you like,” he continued in a disinterested tone.
Nora felt vulnerable and exposed, and wished she hadn’t told him so much about her personal life. Elnaz tried to smooth things over. “Have you both read the outline for the Christmas bake?”
“Yes, everything looked fine,” Henrik replied. “You’ve included what I asked for, so I don’t have any objections.”
Nora took a deep breath. “I have some objections.”
“Of course you do,” Henrik muttered.
“I don’t like the fact that I’m supposed to get the saffron dough wrong, and Henrik has to help me fix it. I’ve been making saffron dough all my life—why would I get it wrong?”
“We always have a similar feature, it’s an integral part of the show. Someone makes crispbread that’s too hard, or a gingerbread dough that’s too soft. The viewers expect it,” Elnaz explained. “It’s a way for Henrik to teach both the baker and the audience at the same time.” Nora wasn’t convinced, and Elnaz leaned closer. “You can’t be a super-baker—even though we all know how brilliant you are, it doesn’t work on TV.”
“I have no intention of pretending to fail at something I can do. I’m not going to play dumb on TV.” She could feel her cheeks grow pink with indignation.
“No problem—we can make sure you don’t need to pretend,” Henrik said.
“What do you mean?” Was he insulting her?
“I mean, we can find something else that I can teach you, so you don’t have to pretend you can’t do it.”
“No thanks.”
“Okay, so what do you suggest the show should be about? How fantastic your patisserie is? Why be on the show at all if you can’t learn anything from me?”
Nora remained silent for a few seconds. “I’m just sick of playing dumb on TV.”
But most of all she was upset because Henrik hadn’t kept his promise. Upset and disappointed because he had said that the filming would be better, when in fact he was just exploiting her in front of the cameras. She stood up, grabbed her coat, and walked out.