Me:Not a Christmas movie.
Nemesis:*gasp* How dare you, sir! It is so!
Me:Just because a movie takes place at Christmas, does not make it a Christmas movie.
Nemesis:Does so. Look at Gremlins.
Me:Not a Christmas movie either.
Nemesis:We can no longer be friends.
Me:When did we become friends? I never agreed to that.
Chapter Seven
Kendrick
December
Pulling my suitcase behind me, I felt a small feeling of trepidation shiver through my stomach at the deer-in-the-headlights look the elf manning the check-in desk at the inn was shooting me. She quickly glanced at her co-worker, whispering hurriedly. Now they were both staring at me with the deer-in-the-headlights look.
What was going on? This wasn’t the first time I had checked into the inn since Keegan had moved to Santa’s Village. I hadjust done it last month. It was, however, the first time I had ever felt this weird anxiety rippling across my skin when I checked in.
Smiling brightly, because when people were staring at you like you had just sprouted two heads, that's what you did, I placed a hand on the desk. “Hello, I’m checking in. Reservation under Mallory.”
The first elf, whose name tag read Camilla, nodded her head rather rapidly, while wringing her hands. “Oh dear.”
Since she was making no move to type anything on her keyboard, I continued to smile like a lunatic. “Is there a problem?”
She glanced at her co-worker, who was making strange gestures with rapid eye movement, and slight shakes of their head. Their nametag said Venus, and under it in small letters, they/them.
“Uh…um…” Camilla stammered, “I’m…just going to run real quick and get the manager.”
What the actual fuck was happening?
Shooting Venus a tight smile as Camilla scurried off, they quickly averted their gaze, suddenly transfixed by something on their own computer screen. Another person stepped over to their counter and Venus seemed extremely happy to help them, if the tension visibly leaving their shoulders was any indication.
Everyone was acting super weird. And that was saying a lot when it came to things in Santa’s Village. It was very different here than the human realm.
A tall, thin elf appeared in front of me, Camilla peering around his shoulder at me. Unlike most of the elves around the village he wasn’t dressed in silver clothes, but rather a nicely tailored black, pinstriped suit.
Bal would look hot in a pinstripe suit.
I really needed to stop picturing Bal in anything but what he usually wore. Really, I did. Because I had been spending analarming amount of time lately wondering what he would look like in…colors. Tight jeans. Gray sweatpants. Plaid boxers. A black tux. Nothing at all.
A clearing throat jerked me back to the here and now, and out of my lets-dress-Bal-like-he’s-your-own-Ken-doll fantasy.
“Mr. Mallory, I’m Elf Sherman, the general manager here at the Christmas Inn.” He offered his hand and out of habit, and good manners, I shook it. “There seems to be a miscommunication concerning your accommodations.”
It took a full ten seconds for his words to compute in my brain, and even then I only managed, “A…what?”
“Yes, well,” he smoothed a hand over his silky-smooth silver hair that laid over one shoulder in perfect place. Seriously, he didn’t have a band on it or anything. “Your reservation was canceled.”
Blinking hard, my fingers gripped the edge of the counter tightly. “Canceled? I don’t understand. I made the reservation when I booked at Thanksgiving. Like I always do. Like I have done for the past several years. No one notified me of this.”
Well, they wouldn’t have been able to, but Keegan, Nik, or Balfour could reach me anytime and pretty much everyone in the village knew that.
“Yes, we are aware of that,” Sherman’s voice was calm, nearly a monotone, “however, your reservation was canceled–” he quickly typed on Camilla’s keyboard, “shortly after Thanksgiving.”
