“Fred the Call Duck is our mascot,” Jasper declared solemnly. “He’s the inspiration for our Yule Brie.”
“Though we would never actually eat the real version,” Wren said as she noted Bayard and Exandra’s raised eyebrows. “He’s far too precious for that.”
“Should we add some pomegranate seeds?” Jasper asked. “I love the combo of red and green. So festive.”
“Yes, let’s do it! And maybe some of these pistachios, too?” Wren was completely absorbed in decorating their creation, her usual professional reserve gone. “Oh, and we’ll need to take a picture of Fred with it before we eat it later.”
“I was thinking the same.” Jasper grinned. “Great minds think alike.”
“Fred as a mascot.I’m not sure why I didn’t think of that.” Bayard frowned.
Things were not going nearly as well at their station.
“Probably because it’s too obvious.” Exandra waved her hand at the plethora of stuffed ducks in chef hats, cheese knives with duck handles and other duck themed merch piled onto shelves near the door.
“Poor Fred. I should have brought him today. He would have enjoyed seeing this,” Bayard lamented.
“He’s better off on the boat. I left him with extra snacks,” Exandra argued. “Though maybe he could have helped us decide on a theme for our Yule Brie.”
“Peas and carrots!” they both said in unison, noting Fred’s favorite snacks.
“Let’s see what we’ve gathered,” Bayard suggested, hopeful that Claire’s method would save them from having to make any more painful discussion.
They laid their selections on the table.
Bayard had picked up a jar of honey, some walnuts, and a sliced pear. Exandra had collected mushrooms, garlic, and prosciutto. They now stared at the incompatible ingredients.
“Maybe we should just pick one direction,” Exandra suggested.
“Fine. Which one?”
“I already said. You choose.”
“And I said I want you to choose!”
“For the love of—” Exandra grabbed the puff pastry. “Fine. We’re doing sweet. Are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic!” Bayard slapped the Brie on top of the puff pastry. “But we could still do savory if that’s more your thing.”
“I don’t have a thing! I just want to get this over with!” Exandra glowered.
“Well, so do I, for the record. But you don’t see me acting all miserable about it!” Bayard huffed dramatically.
“Miserable about what?” Exandra’s eyes went wide.
“About being forced to partner with me. I can see why you wouldn’t want to work with me in the field but is it really so awful to have to work with me in thekitchen?”
“I’m not miserable, I’m frustrated!” Exandra practically pounded another sheet of puff pastry on top of the cheese, stabbing it a few times with a knife before Claire rushed over, alarmed.
“Mon Dieu! I think that is enough for the venting. You do not need to murder the Brie!”
After Claire edged away, Bayard leaned in, crimping the edges of the pastry shut with a spoon.
“You’re frustrated? Why? Seems like you’ve scored yourself a free vacation, now that we’re both pretty sure there won’t be any more incidents with the Culture Vulture.” Bayard tipped his chin up, narrowed his eyes and leveled her with a cool, steely stare. “Why can’t you just let your hair down and have a little fun with me for once?”
He was gratified to see Exandra blush a little. Her hands flew to her hair which was, in fact, already down. It was cascading to her shoulders in lovely waves and catching the sunlight . He rather liked the sparkle of the silver strands against her signature purple. And, he noticed, she was wearing lipstick. Had she always worn plum lipstick? He couldn’t recall. But he liked it, so perfect on her soft, plump lips.
“You call this fun? We can’t even make a simple decision about cheese without—” Exandra stopped mid sentence, breathing hard.
