Both girls’ heads swiveled over to the table on their other side, the not-Danny side. Dinesh was there, still in his arcade uniform. He brushed an errant black curl off his forehead and handed Elda a clean cookie. “I’m going to lose anyway,” he said with a wink.
“You’re our hero, Dinesh,” Elda said, and he waved her off, turning his attention back to his remaining eleven cookies. “That was super nice,” Elda whispered to Holly. “Maybe you should go out with him. He could be the fourth in our double date.”
Shrugging, Holly focused on her current cookie. Dinesh was cool. He’d come to her rescue twice in the past two days. But he’d given up one of his gingerbread figures to help his rival. He didn’t care about the competition. Danny hadn’t offered the girls one of his cookies—he’d probably never even considered giving them one of his cookies—because he knew what it took to win, and he understood that all was fair in love and gingerbread. Holly respected his competitive spirit. Still, “Dinesh is better than that Brian guy for sure. Set it up.”
Elda squeezed Holly’s wrist. “I’m on it.”
Holly peeked over at Danny, who was piping a delicate pattern on one cookie’s tummy. “Tell him you like his filigree technique.”
“What?” Elda whispered.
“Just do it. He’ll eat it up.”
Elda skirted around Holly so she was on Danny’s side again. “Your filigree technique is really something.”
Grinning, Danny held up the cookie he was currently working on. “You think?”
Elda nodded. “Super good. Very nice.” Holly was fairly certain Elda had no idea what she was talking about. Actually, “fairly certain” was an understatement.
“Thanks.” Danny’s whole face lit up as his eyes met Elda’s. Holly had to look away as the two of them exchanged goo-goo eyes. She turned toward Dinesh instead, whom she caught also staring at Elda, because of course he was. Groaning, Holly pulled yet another gingerbread figure toward her and started piping.
This was what she’d signed up for. She repeated it in her head like a mantra.
Chapter Seven
DANNY: OMG Craig’s cookies.
ELDA: I didn’t see. What? Were they good?
DANNY: They were the Starks.
ELDA: (gif of Jon Snow frowning amidst a blizzard) ELDA: Of course he’d do Game of Thrones cookies.
DANNY: (gif of priestess ringing the “Shame” bell) ELDA: For two people who hate Game of Thrones, we sure have a lot of gifs at the ready.
DANNY: Something to think about. Ask not for whom the SHAME bell tolls, it tolls for we!
ELDA: (crying laughing emoji X 10)
Chapter Eight
At the end of the first round, the mayor and two other judges took their time surveying each team’s gingerbread cookie entries. Danny’s heart was in his throat as the three jury members swanned around the Joyeaux Noel dining room. He’d done well; he was positive of that. Danny had been worried about his rusty piping skills, but today’s competition was like riding a bike. His filigree technique was on point, and Elda had noticed.
The room was full of talented decorators, like Tinka Foster. She was Nancy Gold’s assistant at the bakery, and sweet stuff was her whole life. Her piping was perfectly straight and uniform, as if every decorative line had been produced by a machine. Craig wasn’t the most talented piper, necessarily; but what he lacked in raw skill, he made up for in creativity.
And then there were the Page girls. Elda possessed the perfect mix of talent and artistry. Each cookie she decorated had a unique little flourish, like different hairstyles or argyle sweaters. Not only that, she had to decorate all twenty-four cookies herself, because Holly was not up to the task, what with breaking the head off of one cookie and glopping on her frosting with the finesse of an elephant on roller skates.
But Holly had impressed Danny, too, in a way. He couldn’t see her work from where he was sitting during the competition, but he could tell she’d been pushing hard, trying her best not to let Elda down. That took guts to stand next to her more talented cousin and try her best, even though her best was, honestly, pretty terrible.
He glanced over at Elda, who was still standing behind their table, talking to Dinesh, while Holly had flitted off somewhere.
Elda was definitely gorgeous. She was, as Brian was quick to point out, one of the most beautiful girls who’d ever stepped foot in North Pole. And she liked him. She was smart and well-read. She liked history and architecture.
Elda was obviously the perfect girl for him. If someone were to ask Danny to make a list of the most important traits he’d want in a girlfriend, they’d all add up to Elda. The two of them just needed the chance to spend some time alone, without the distraction of Holly.
The room buzzed with life as the other contestants, their friends and families, and the gaggle of tourists who lined the walls chatted and laughed while the judges made their way around the room. When the trio of judges stopped at Danny’s table to evaluate his work, he held his breath, scared to look at them. Giving nothing away, the mayor and his judge buddies whispered “Mmm-hmms” and “Uh-huhs” as they lifted up each cookie and examined Danny’s piping. A few moments later, they’d moved on to Elda’s table, and Danny finally exhaled.
Elda, totally poised and cheerful, smiled at the judges as they came over. She shook their hands and greeted them with a warm hello. From his spot against the wall, Elda’s brother Sal clapped like a trained seal. “Team Page!” he shouted. Elda chuckled.
Danny had to do something nice for her, to thank her for the Take 5 bars.
The perfect idea came to him like a million little Christmas lights blinking on; even though the judging for this round wasn’t over yet, Danny considered bolting straight out of the restaurant and running home as fast as his crutches could carry him.
About a year ago, Elda’s grandmother had given Danny an old, tattered book on architecture, specifically famous Midwestern buildings, since she knew Danny had an interest in the subject. She’d told him then that one of her granddaughters was also well-versed in the subject, which was probably why she’d been so good at the gingerbread contest.
Danny still had the book, along with some other magazines she’d given him over the years. He’d return them to Elda today, accompanied by a romantic invite—he’d buy tickets for the North Pole architecture tour. It’d be the perfect first date.