I find her in the living room, rifling around in her purse. I say her name again and her head snaps up. I have a moment to register how red her face is before she holds up the college brochure I found on the bus and shakes it, making the pages flap wildly. “What’d you do, go to Loyola and pick this up? You’re that desperate to get rid of me?”
The only way I’d be more shocked right now is if she chucked the booklet at my head. “Wh-what?” I force myself not to laugh at how ridiculous she is. Her stormy expression tells me laughter wouldnotbe welcome right now. “I took the bus home from the garage and that was lying on the seat I chose. I flipped through and saw a few things I thought might interest you so I brought it home.”
She tosses the brochure on the coffee table and turns away from me, continuing to rummage through her purse.
“Celia.Celia.” I say her name more forcefully the second time, and she straightens, meeting my eyes reluctantly. “Is something wrong? Something bugging you? Can I help in some way? Do something that will stop you from snapping at me constantly for absolutely no reason? I’m not the enemy here, yet for some reason you’ve labeled me as that and have been treating me accordingly.”
Regret flits over her features. Her shoulders have loosened slightly, and she’s giving off less of a hostile vibe. I nearly hold my breath, hoping this might finally be it. That she’s about to tell me why she treats me so badly even though I’ve done everything I can to help her the last few months.
Her mouth opens and closes. Turning away, she slings her purse over her shoulder and strides toward the front door. “I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can afford to live on my own.” With that, she opens the door and steps out, letting it shut quietly behind her.
My feet are rooted to the floor. When I realize she actually left without me, I run after her. The hall is empty. I’m halfway to the stairwell when I realize I’m still wrapped in a towel.Shit!I clutch it to me as I slink toward the window that overlooks the front entrance of the building. Celia bursts out the front door and races down the walkway, where a taxi has just pulled up. She hops in, slams the door, and the car takes off.
Great. Just fucking great. “Could this day get any worse?” I mutter.
The sound of a throat being cleared loudly makes me jump. I already know it’s Mrs. Moscovitz, a crotchety old lady who’s lived here forever. She hates everyone except for her adorable little dog Duchess. Holding my head high, I spin on my bare feet and stride past her, sparing a glance at her face. Distaste, disgust, disdain, check, check, check.
“Looks like it’s going to be a nice evening for a walk, Mrs. Moscowitz,” I say breezily. “I hope you and Duchess have a good weekend!”
Tightening my towel, I jog the last few steps to my door and shut it quickly behind me. A hysterical-sounding laugh escapes me even as my eyes sting with tears. This day. This freaking day. I collapse against the closed door, clapping a hand over my eyes and swallowing down the weird mixture of giggles and unshed tears until it sounds like I’m fighting the hiccups.
I wish I could call in sick, but my shift starts in half an hour, so that would be a shitty thing to do. I can handle a few more hours of work, especially since it’s Friday. In fact, the distraction will probably be a good thing, otherwise I’d sit around all night stuffing my face with junk food and overthinking. I allow myself a moment and then spring into action. I need to call another cab, don my elf costume, and psyche myself up for hours of smiling while pretending I didn’t just have the shittiest day in recent memory.
I can do this.
*****
“I hear you had some car trouble today.”
Something in me loosens at the sound of Hugh’s voice. It’s his Santa voice—sans toe-curling accent—but it’s still deep and soft and everything I need right now. I was making my way through the Village after my dinner break when I ran into him.
“How did you know?”
“Ivy, Ivy, Ivy.” He gives his head an exaggeratedly slow shake, making his long beard sway. “You ought to know by now: I’m Santa Claus. I know everything.” He taps the side of his nose and winks.
Despite the smile that’s been plastered to my face since I arrived at Santa’s Village two hours ago, my answering laugh is my first genuine one all day. Hugh inches closer and my body overrides my brain as I reach for the velvety-soft lapels of his red suit and drop my forehead to his shoulder. I should get myself together and act professional, especially since we’re on one of the main streets where everyone can see us. I just need a moment of comfort. I inhale deeply, breathing in his woodsy scent. I’m about to straighten when he curls one arm around me, holding me loosely.
“Ivy,” he says softly. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t.
Finally, I release my hold on him and step back. “Thanks.”
His gaze sweeps the area around us. He waves at a little boy who’s standing a few feet away, watching us with wide eyes. The boy waves back enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet before letting his mother pull him away. Smiling, Hugh inches closer to me and in a voice meant for my ears only says, “The other Santa is doing breakfast and visit duty tomorrow so I can have the day off.”
My mouth drops open in mock horror. “TheotherSanta? I thought there was onlyoneSanta.”
“Har har.” He gives me a little poke with a white-gloved finger. “This’ll likely be the only Saturday I take off before Christmas. It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm, so I was thinking of going for a hike. Would you care to join me?”
A hike? I’m so not athletic. I took the one year of required phys ed in high school—faking illness, cramps, or any other number of mystery ailments to avoid participating whenever possible—and haven’t done any type of sport since. I don’t mind walking, but I’m not exactly in shape, and I’m not sure I’m up to something as potentially strenuous as hiking. And yet…a whole day with Hugh? “I’ll say yes, with the warning I’m not in the best shape.”
He chuckles. “That’s okay. It’s not a steep climb, and there are places along the way to stop and rest. If you’d rather skip the hike, I can pick you up after and we can go to dinner, maybe a movie.”
I purse my lips and contemplate his offer. “Is there any sort of view on this hike?”
“Besides me, you mean?” He sweeps his hand in front of himself, then peers down as if only now remembering what he currently looks like. “Well, you did say I was hot,” he adds.
As if I need to be reminded. “I did, you’re right. As long as you lead the way, I suppose that’s the only view I need.”
A surprised laugh tumbles out of him. Honestly, I’m surprised at myself too. He holds my gaze, his eyes dancing with something playful and knowing. “I’ll even pack us a picnic, how does that sound?”
“Sold.”
