Page 16 of The Selkie Santa

Noah’s fingers shook as he held the piece of paper in a vise-like grip. “I can’t.”

“Please just do as she says,” begged the vampire.

“I can’t read it…” Noah muttered. “Because I’m dyslexic.”

There was a flabbergasted silence.

“Well, it was a very courageous step to audition then,” Gran said with a beaming smile. “Bravo.”

He should tell them he hadn’t intended to audition, that he’d only come to find Harper. But it all seemed too hard. Noah felt totally helpless, held to ransom by a bunch of aging monsters.

“Give us a moment,” Gran said, then gathered her little bevy around her. A lot of loud whispering followed. Noah stood there like a spare part, Harper a few feet away. He tried desperately to catch her eye again.

Finally, she glanced at him and raised her shoulders in a shrug.

After a few more moments, Gran cleared her throat. “We all think you’re the perfect fit for our Santa. We’ll find a way for you to learn the lines. Maybe Harper can read them out to you until you’ve memorized them. We’re delighted to offer you the part of Santa in our Christmas show.”

Noah was about to say no. But then those words,Harper can read them out to you,somehow cut through the fog in his brain.

If there was any way to get Harper to talk to him, surely playing Santa to her elf would have to be it.

And desperate measures, Noah realized, required desperate means.

He smirked nervously. “Okay, well, er, thanks. Then yes, I accept.”

Harper stomped off down the footpath at speed, but Noah, with his long strides, easily kept up.

As if it hadn’t been a big enough shock having him burst into the room back there, Noah had somehow landed the part of Santa in the Christmas show. And to add a cherry to the whipped cream on top of this whole disaster, Gran had told her to go find him a Santa costume in the props room.

So now they were winding their way through the gardens, making stupid polite conversation about his fishing trip, about her job here, as if nothing,nothingwas wrong, when everything was.

She tried to deny that she liked his big body falling into step with hers. Tried to deny that she’d missed the act of simply walking with Noah. It had always been one of the things she loved about their friendship. On weekends in springtime they’d go for walks in the woods around Motham Hill, marveling together at the tiny buds on the trees and the crocuses poking through the earth. On balmy summer evenings they’d stroll along Motham River or the beach, finding shells. Their hands close, their arms bumping, the chemistry like sparkly fireflies darting in the air around them.

Or so she’d thought…

He was glancing sideways at her now, his brows ruffled in a frown.

She couldn’t take it any longer. Harper stopped and burst out, “Why did you really come here, Noah?”

He drew to a halt, turned to face her and said softly, “To see you Harper.”

If she hadn’t known better, the warmth in his gaze would have made her think he’d missed her, that he wanted her…

Don’t kid yourself.

She barked out a laugh. “And now you’ve landed yourself a thespian role. Which is kinda awkward if you can’t learn your lines.” She paused, frowning. “Why’ve you never told me about your dyslexia?”

Noah chewed on his lip, squinting into the winter sunlight. “Never felt it was that important.”

That stoked the flames of Harper’s simmering rage.Like other things you didn’t feel the need to tell me.The words rose up her throat like bile, but she swallowed them. This wasn’t the moment to have it out with Noah. Because if she started, it would be like a faucet bursting. Messy.

“Guess that’s your business,” she said with a shrug. When Noah just stood gazing at her, she rolled her eyes. “Well, come on, then, I’ve got to get back to the café soon. Biff hates serving customers.”

“I noticed." Noah’s lips quirked into a grin. It hitched at the corner of his mouth, causing a deep indent in one side of his bearded cheek. Just one side. Blessed asymmetry. Harper’s knees went weak before she remembered he wasn’t hers to have weak knees over. She took off again, her sneakers flying, the cold air sharp in her lungs. “Where are you taking me?” he asked as he caught up.

“To the theater.”

“Seriously? The Monsters of Mercy have their own theater?”

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