Page 17 of Just a Taste
Noelle watches us, her gaze lingering on each of our faces as we indulge in her desserts. There’s a quiet satisfaction in her eyes, a sense of fulfilment that I can’t help but envy. Sheseems truly content, as if our enjoyment of her food is the only thing she needs right now.
‘Didn’t you say something about two and a half desserts?’ Luca says as he finishes his plate, scraping up the last of the crumbs to the point where his plate looks spotlessly clean once he’s finished.
Noelle grins. ‘This one, I can’t take the credit for entirely.’ Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she turns back to the cart. She lifts a beautifully decorated tin and delicately pries it open to reveal an array of Christmas cookies, each one more intricately designed than the last. The sweet scent of cinnamon and nutmeg fills the air. ‘These are also from Maison Badeaux,’ Noelle explains, her voice filled with excitement. ‘I thought it would be a nice touch to end the night by sharing them with all of you.’
The group murmurs appreciatively, their faces lighting up at the sight of the treats.
She flits around the table, placing a cookie in front of each of my guests.
And then she gets to me.
I expect her to place the cookie on the napkin in front of me, but she freezes, hands hovering uncertainly over the box.
‘Have we run out?’ Therese asks, craning her head around to see what the hold-up is.
‘No,’ Noelle says, her voice coming out like a croak. ‘Iordered the right amount. It’s just… well, I didn’t think about the designs when I was handing them out, and…’ She holds up the last cookie in the box and gives me an apologetic grimace.
The cookie is a miniature masterpiece of mischief; the Grinch’s scowling face etched onto its surface with uncanny accuracy. Green icing curls around its edges like a malicious grin, and even the tiny red Santa hat perched atop its head seems to exude child-friendly malevolence.
My jaw tightens as Luca bursts into loud, raucous laughter, and the rest of my Board follow his example, even Wilbur. FuckingWilbur.
‘You hit the nail on the head with that one, Noelle,’ Luca laughs.
I feel a flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks as Noelle looks at me with an awkward mix of apology and amusement. The room is filled with laughter, but all I can focus on is the Grinch cookie sitting in front of me, its mocking expression seemingly taunting me.
I push the cookie back towards Noelle, my irritation bubbling underneath the surface. ‘I appreciate the gesture, but I think I’m full,’ I say curtly.
Noelle’s expression falls, a potent mix of regret and concern flashing in her eyes. She opens her mouth to apologise, but I turn away and she clamps her mouth shut before she can utter a word.
The laughter around the table slowly dies down, replaced by an awkward tension that hangs in the air like a heavy fog. I can feel the eyes of my Board on me, all of them judging my reaction to an admittedly harmless joke, so I force a tight smile and they all heave quiet sighs of relief.
As soon as their attention is no longer on me, I discreetly check my watch and bite back a groan.
How much longer do I have to endure this charade? The seconds tick by slowly, each one an eternity as I count down the moments until I can finally escape this suffocating room and any mention of Christmas.
CHAPTER FIVENoelle
‘Please tell me your sexy boss had a sudden change of heart, sent you home about four hours ago, and you’re currently in the process of making your way to Gran’s a day early to surprise everyone. Please.’
‘Client,’ I murmur, almost on autopilot at this point. ‘And stop calling him that.’ I pause my loading of Hoxton’s fancy dishwasher and glance over at my phone propped up on the countertop. For the second time today, Eve’s pouting face fills my screen. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I swear to God, Noelle,’ Eve whimpers, a slightly frantic expression flitting across her face. ‘I’m genuinely on the brink. We had maybe half an hour of peace after Aunt Valerie arrived – I think the snow distracted everyone for a bit – but it’s been non-stop since then.’
I slam the dishwasher door shut and turn to give my sister both my full attention and a sympathetic grin. I can hear the faint sound of reggae and loud voices in the background. ‘Then I’ve got some bad news for you there.’
Eve lets out a loud and overly dramatic groan. ‘There’s only so much I can take, and I’ve already temporarily tapped out for the evening. Poor Nathan’s down there all by himself trying to stop them from verbally abusing each other every five minutes. I don’t know how much longer he’ll last before he realises he’s in over his head and takes back the ring.’
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. ‘Stop being dramatic.’
‘I’m not!’ She squints at me and then points a perfectly manicured finger at her phone screen. ‘Do you see what you’ve done? My wedding is on the line, Noelle. I need you to hurry up.’
This time I do roll my eyes. It’s not like I’m not trying to hurry – like I particularly want to spend any more time in Hoxton’s home than I already have to – but clean-up is just as important as the meal itself. And the last thing I want to do is give Hoxton even more of a reason to turn that icy glare in my direction.
‘I’ve got a couple more things to finish off here and then I’m heading home.’
Eve blinks at me with wide, hopeful eyes. ‘Or – and hear me out. You could drive through the night and get hereby…’ She glances briefly at, I assume, the clock in the top corner of her screen. ‘3am.’
My only response is a derisive snort.
