Uma watched Hugo still standing in the slow waltz position, his muscles stiff from holding it for so long. He clearly hadn't wanted to complain or take a break, too considerate of her feelings to do so, and that made Uma both amused and quietly touched.
"Shall we take a break outside?" Uma rose slightly on her toes and whispered into his ear. The smile that instantly blossomed on Hugo's face was all the answer she needed—he nodded eagerly. Seeing that, Uma couldn't help but laugh and let him lead her toward the back garden.
The hills of Beverly were sprinkled with lights that shimmered like thousands of fireflies resting in the dark forest, flowing together like a glittering river. The moment they stepped outside, the chill of the night air rushed over them, making both shiver. Even Hugo, dressed in his suit, felt the cold; Uma, wearing only a strapless white lace gown that trailed along the ground, was freezing. Without hesitation, Hugo pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth, then turned his back to the wind to shield her completely.
The back garden was just as lively as the ballroom inside—filled with guests laughing and chatting, glasses clinking under strings of fairy lights. A large bar had been set up, and beside it, a DJ booth played music very different from the formal tunes inside. The atmosphere here was looser, younger, more vibrant. Clearly, this was where the younger crowd gathered—while the ballroom was reserved for the more traditional guests. Hugo and Uma, it seemed, had simply chosen the wrong dance floor earlier.
Uma pointed at the people casually swaying to the beat. "See? You'd fit in much better here." Most of them weren't really dancing—just moving with the rhythm, clapping or nodding to the music. Even those who didn't know how to dance could blend right in.
Hugo caught the teasing tone in her voice. He scrunched his nose, flashing his straight white teeth in a mock snarl like a playful wolf cub, then began to inch closer as if to pounce. Uma broke into laughter, quickly raising her hands to cup his face and stop him from coming any nearer. But she was no match for his strength—soon she could feel his warm breath against her cheek and neck, making her heartbeat quicken uncontrollably.
"Stop it," Uma whispered, biting her lip to stifle her laughter. They were surrounded by people—guests filled both the ballroom behind them and the garden in front of them. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene. She surrendered with a laugh, "Okay, okay, my fault." Hugo's low chuckle followed, his eyes glinting with teasing triumph. Uma glared at him playfully, then said in a quieter voice, "Are you sure it's okay for us to be out here? I'd guess Sydney is more likely to be inside."
Hugo straightened up, his expression softening into thought. Glancing over her shoulder toward the ballroom, he said, "This is Sydney's house. If he doesn't want to be found, there's not much we can do." He had been scanning the crowd earlier—even while chatting with Tom Cruise, his attention had drifted as he tried to spot Sydney. Maybe that's why he'd kept losing his rhythm during the dance. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen any sign of Sydney, though he had caught sight of Joseph hurrying around twice.
Uma followed his gaze, her eyes sweeping across the garden. The New Year's Eve party was in full swing—there had to be nearly two hundred guests just within sight. Finding one person in that crowd would be nearly impossible.
Hugo sighed and turned back to her. "No point rushing. It's his party—he'll show up eventually. We just have to wait." They had only just arrived, after all. There was no need to hurry.
"Still," Uma said, her eyes catching familiar faces in the crowd, "there are so many directors and producers here. You should introduce yourself. A night like this could open a lot of doors." She couldn't help the excitement bubbling in her chest—this was a place overflowing with opportunity. One good connection could change everything for her career.
Hugo smiled mischievously. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out a small twig and held it above their heads. Then, with his free hand, he gently turned Uma's face toward him. "I don't think any of them are as interesting as me," he said cryptically.
Uma blinked, puzzled by his sudden words, until she noticed the glint in his eyes and followed his gaze upward. Above them hung a small brown twig with two branches, a few green leaves, and a cluster of bright red berries.
Mistletoe.
Realization dawned, and Uma couldn't stop her smile from breaking into a full laugh. Then she saw Hugo's lips curve into a teasing pout as he half-closed his eyes. "You should know what comes next," he murmured, his voice rich and low, carrying a hint of boyish mischief.
Uma couldn't hold back her laughter, but under the warmth of his expectant gaze, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips softly to his. Their breath mingled in the cold air, and for that brief moment, the world around them disappeared—no crowd, no noise, just the two of them, hearts beating in quiet, trembling harmony.
When she finally pulled back, Uma bit her lower lip and rested her hands on Hugo's chest. "It's not even Christmas," she whispered with a smile. "What were you doing with mistletoe anyway?" Seeing him still holding it above their heads, his arm surely aching by now, she laughed. "The kiss is over—you can put it down."
Hugo grinned. "I just wanted to finish what I started." He slipped the mistletoe into the pocket on his chest, like a man pinning a rose. The gesture made Uma laugh again, unable to help herself.
After tucking it neatly in place, Hugo wrapped his arms around her waist. "Consider it making up for missing Christmas," he said with a grin. Then, pulling her gently closer, he added, "Do you know why people kiss under mistletoe at Christmas?"
Uma raised a brow, genuinely curious. "No, actually. Why? Isn't it just an old tradition?"
"Even traditions have their origins," Hugo said with a warm smile. "The mistletoe has long been called the 'Golden Bough of Life.' But in Norse mythology, it was the only thing that could harm Balder—the god of light, and son of Odin and Frigga, the goddess of love and beauty. Loki, the god of mischief, tricked Hoder, the god of darkness, into shooting Balder with a dart made of mistletoe, killing him. When Frigga found out, she was heartbroken. She and the other gods tried everything to bring Balder back to life, and eventually, her tears washed away the mistletoe's curse, resurrecting her son. Out of gratitude, Frigga blessed the mistletoe, promising that whoever stood beneath it would be granted a kiss."
Listening to Hugo's gentle storytelling, Uma felt warmth spreading through her as she nestled deeper into his arms. "So, what does that mean?" she asked softly.
Hugo chuckled. "Frigga is the goddess of love. Kissing under the mistletoe means receiving her blessing of love. That's how it became a Christmas tradition."
At this point, Uma would have to be dense not to understand what Hugo was getting at. She tilted her head up, resting her chin on his chest. "So… are you hoping for Frigga's blessing?"
Hugo's cheeks flushed slightly, and he grinned. "No, I'm saying—even when it's not Christmas, kissing under the mistletoe is still perfectly fine."
What Hugo didn't mention was that, according to legend, Frigga also presided over marriage. One of the most common beliefs was that if an unmarried woman passed under the mistletoe at Christmas without being kissed, she wouldn't marry in the coming year. That was the part Hugo found too awkward to explain—after all, marriage was still a distant subject between him and Uma.
Uma caught his awkward tone and gave him a teasing look, leaving Hugo slightly embarrassed. Luckily, Joseph showed up just in time to save him.
"There you are!" Joseph called out. "Come on, we're meeting Sydney. He's cleared ten minutes just for you."
"So, the audition's happening tonight?" Hugo asked, his nerves tightening. That was, after all, what tonight was supposed to be about but now that the moment had come, it still caught him off guard. For nearly a month, Sydney hadn't mentioned the audition, and suddenly everything was happening at once—Ron's invitation that morning, Joseph's persistence that afternoon, and now Sydney's formal meeting at night. Everything was moving too fast.
Joseph nodded. "That's what it looks like."
Hugo took a deep breath and turned to Uma. This was work now, and he couldn't stay with her. Uma, not being the one auditioning, remained calm. "Go on," she said reassuringly. "I'll be fine on my own."
Hugo leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before following Joseph out in a hurry. Uma stood there for a while, watching his figure disappear into the crowd. Soon, Hugo was gone, replaced by a sea of actors, directors, and producers moving through the space. Her heartbeat quickened—nervousness creeping in—because she knew that before her lay countless opportunities, and whether she could seize one depended entirely on herself.
...
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