Mistletoe Not Required by Anne Oliver

near the waterfront, recuperating after the race and enjoying Tassie’s Taste Festival. Despite their upgraded suite having three master bedrooms, Jett had conveniently found accommodation in the penthouse upstairs. Who else but the Jettsetter Chef would be able to source five-star penthouse accommodation in a fully booked city during the busiest week on Hobart’s calendar?
    The press had swooped and swarmed all over him when they’d docked. Olivia had been surprised and eternally grateful for his good humour towards the reporters—he’d been a genuine and enthusiastic spokesperson for the foundation, even agreeing to an appearance on the local TV morning show in the coming week.
    So Brie had told her.
    Because Olivia hadn’t seen or heard from him since he’d walked away from Chasing Dawn at the marina.
    ‘Liv, did you hear me?’
    ‘Yes.’ Olivia looked up from the novel she was trying to read. ‘Company.’ She’d never liked the taste of sour grapes but there was a whole bunch in her mouth right now. She knew Brie and Jett had caught up. She hadn’t asked for details but he was obviously the reason for Brie’s happy demeanour. ‘What sort of company are we talking about?’
    ‘Companionship. For starters anyway. You can move on for the main course if things go well.’ Brie tossed a new orange bikini on top of her overstuffed bag. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow. And I know for a fact his evening’s free. Like yours.’
    ‘What if I’ve made plans and I just haven’t told you?’
    Brie looked her over, brows raised. ‘Have you?’
    Olivia ran a lazy finger over her e-reader’s screen, waited for the next page to load. ‘Maybe.’ She continued staring at her reader.
    ‘I know you, my friend, and there’s not a chance. He’s leaving on New Year’s Day,’ Brie continued. ‘To work on his new book.’
    ‘Inspirational spot, Cradle Mountain. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.’
    Brie let out a long-suffering sigh and walked over to where Olivia was curled up on the couch and stuck her hands on her hips. ‘It’s New Year and you have the hots for each other.’
    Olivia glanced up. ‘So? Are you saying I should phone him up and ask for sex?’
    Brie’s grin was fast and wide. ‘As long as you’re careful. He’s a casual sort of guy and I know you’re not...’
    ‘Experienced.’ Olivia stretched lazily, waggled her fingers. ‘Maybe it is time I tried something different. And if I want to play with fire I’ve got to expect to get a little singed along the way, right?’ She dropped her hands and picked up her reader again. ‘Having said that, nothing’s going to happen.’
    ‘Hey, I’ve seen you two look at each other and it’s combustion central. So I’m saying yes, definitely try that new adventure, have some fun—you both deserve it.’
    Combustion central? Not any more. She’d told him no. He’d accepted it. ‘We admitted the attraction. Now we’ve moved on.’
    ‘Yeah, right.’ Brie patted Olivia’s hand then rose and walked to her wheely bag. ‘It’s not too late to ask him down for a drink,’ she said as she checked her purse. ‘Or if you’re feeling shy, you could meet in the lobby, go somewhere on the waterfront and enjoy the view. Oh, and for your convenience, I’ve put his phone number in your contacts list.’
    ‘Me? Ask him?’ Olivia’s chin lifted. ‘And I’m not shy.’
    ‘I know you’re not—usually. You’re an equal rights ambassador and you demonstrated that to him very clearly, more than once.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Maybe he feels threatened.’
    ‘Threatened? Jett?’ Olivia laughed—a little hysterically—and stood too, hands in the pockets of her jeans as she walked to the door to see Brie off. ‘Is this the same guy we’re talking about?’
    ‘He’s my brother, obviously I don’t see him the same way you do. Happy New Year,’ Brie said against her cheek. ‘Go out and have a good time.’
    ‘Yep.’
    Brie studied