Page 31 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

“Deal,” he says.

Trevor makes gagging noises, and I see Austin glance his way, but I ignore him. Obnoxious turd. “At break, I’m going to come by so you can give me your cell phone number,” I tell him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he says, reaching for the now-empty pastry bag. He holds his piece of scone between his teeth, pulls apen out of the pocket of his apron, and writes on the paper bag. Passing it back to me, he takes a bite of scone and nods at the bag. “Now you have my number. Text me with yours when you get the chance.”

Beaming, I nod. “I definitely will.”

His eyes dart around, then he leans in close and gives me a quick peck. “Catch you later.”

I carefully fold up the pastry bag and tuck it into my bra because my elf costume doesn’t have pockets. Which is still galling, since Mom’s Mrs. Claus costume has voluminous pockets. And more than one set! She has pockets in her dressandin the apron she wears over it. But I suppose we would have to change the style of elf dresses to something more fit and flare to make pockets work, and when I chose mine, I wanted form fitting. And it’s become something of a signature look.

Maybe I’ll talk to Mom at the end of the season about changing things in the future, though. Wealldeserve pockets, after all.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Trevor asks.

“Yup!” I respond cheerfully. It might be too soon for that kind of title after one date, but I don’t need to divulge my dating life to my annoying younger coworker.

He snorts, but I don’t engage. “Check the candy canes.”

“I did that already!” he protests. “While you were flirting with your boyfriend.” He draws out the last word, making it singsong, and oh my god, how old is this kid? I thought he was at least sixteen, but he’s acting like he’s maybe twelve.

“Do it again.” That’s one good thing about being the only remaining Daniels child and Lead Elf this year. I can boss Trevor around, and he has to listen to me.

He stomps off to check the candy canes. “The basket’s full!” he calls, sounding petulant.

I mean, I’d probably feel the same way if I were in his shoes. I filled the candy canes last night. And he probably did check the basket already. If I were being forced to redo work that was already done because my supervisor wasn’t paying attention, I’d be annoyed too. But maybe if he weren’t being so obnoxious, I wouldn’t be doing this.

He drags himself back to the computer, his face resembling Sophie’s when she’s in a snit.

“Hey, Trevor,” I say, making my voice light and waiting for him to look at me. “This”—I circle the air in front of his face—“doesn’t work at the North Pole. I’m not sure what your problem is this morning or why you seem to have an issue with me talking to Austin for less than five minutes, but you need to sort it out and get over it before ChristmasFest opens today. It’s the weekend. We’re slammed from start to finish. And I assure you that Santa and Mrs. Claus won’t have a problem with me talking to Austin, but theywillhave a problem with one of their elves making little kids cry.”

That has the opposite effect, causing his face to scrunch up more, anger flashing in his eyes.

Making my voice as sickly sweet as possible, I continue. “I don’t know if your girlfriend just broke up with you or what, but you don’t get to take out your frustration on me. And you definitely don’t get to take your frustration out on the kids. Now, do I needto call someone in to replace you? Or can you handle the duties and expectations of your role here?”

I wait, giving him as long as he needs to flare his nostrils and take deep breaths, but he eventually manages to smooth out his face. It’s not cheerful, but he doesn’t look on the verge of a tantrum, so I’ll count it as a win. “I don’t need you to find someone to take my shift. I can do it.”

“Good!” I chirp. “We’re all set, so feel free to have a seat on the bench until the doors open.”

Normally I’d sit down too—all day on your feet means taking advantage of any and all sitting opportunities—but I don’t want to share the bench with Trevor right now. Not when he’s just barely managed to fix his face.

Despite the rocky start with Trevor, the day goes smoothly. And when my break hits, I make sure to text Austin so he has my number. When I retrieve my phone at the end of the day, I find a reply from him.

Austin

Dinner again? Or do you have plans already? Either way, I’ll meet you at the North Pole after ChristmasFest and you can let me know

Grinning, I don’t bother responding, instead hurrying into my change of clothes. Nothing fancy today, since I didn’t know I might have a date, but we can do something less fancy than last night. Maybe hit The Filling Station. Though I’ll have to let my parents know my plans this time.

After I finish changing, I park myself next to the North Pole. I don’t have to wait long, though. Austin’s striding over, a big smile on his face.

When he reaches me, I reach for a hug, a moment of panic shooting through me when I realize he might not reciprocate, but he smoothly steps into my arms to give me a hug, dropping a quick kiss on my cheek in the process. God, he’s sweet. And cute and funny and so much nicer than I ever gave him credit for.

“Does this mean I get to take you out tonight?” he asks quietly.

I nod. “Absolutely.”

“Is this who your plans were with last night, Nora?” asks my dad behind me.

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