Page 20 of Stalked By Santa

Tears prick my eyes as I struggle to formulate a reply. But before I can, the elf sashays out of the room. A moment later, the office’s outer door slams shut.

Suddenly, I see the room I’m in with new eyes. Nick’s stalking, his obsession with me… maybe it’s not romantic, maybe itisa sickness. One that I’m enabling by agreeing to marry him.

Because the elf was right—how well do Nick and I really know each other? And yet everything has moved so fast, faster than I even realized since he’s apparently prepared to throw his entire life away just to be with me.

My heart feels frozen, like it’s become pure ice, brittle and easy to shatter. Numb, I stare down at my engagement ring, knowing what I have to do.

TWELVE

NICK

I glareat the board chair. “So that’s it, then? An ultimatum? I knew you were spineless, but I’d have thought you’d have the guts to fire me.”

The immaculately coifed elf shakes her head sadly. “You aren’t thinking clearly about this, sir. Please, take the week we’re offering to consider our offer. Your record… well, it’s impressive. No mortal girl is worth throwing all that away.”

“I’d only be ‘throwing it away’ because you’re forcing me to,” I retort. “I’m not resigning.”

Dasher clears his throat. “None of us want to do this. But the Christmas Contract is clear, Nick. Surely you can appreciate our position?”

When I don’t respond, he sighs. “Look. The holidays can be stressful. We’ll reconvene in the new year. Be prepared to give us your answer then.”

How do they not fucking get it? I’m so frustrated that I want to scream that I’ve already given them the only answer they’ll receive. But there’s no point. I could argue my case all day, and they’d just keep citing the goddamn contract.

Besides, I’ve already been away from Maddie for too long. Turning and striding out of the boardroom, I hurry back toward my beautiful girl, my mood already improving at the thought of seeing Maddie again.

Sure, they’re going to sack me when they reconvene and discover that I haven’t changed my mind. Because there’s no decision to make, not even close. There’s only Madelyn. She’s the answer to every question.

And having finally confessed that fact to the board, I already feel lighter. I hadn’t realized how heavy the weight of hiding my obsession had become.

Yes, it fucking sucks that I’m going to lose the title, the power… the sleigh. But I’m not the only syndicate member capable of donning the red suit. The syndicate existed for centuries before me, and it will continue to exist once I’m gone. The institution of Christmas is more than one man.

Besides, I already have an idea of how I’d like to spend my retirement. I walk more quickly, eager to share my plan with Maddie.

But when I reach the C-suite, I pause. The reception area is empty. Neither the receptionist nor the guard I left on duty are anywhere in sight.

While their absence is irritating, I try to tell myself that it’s not a reason to panic. Not yet. ItisChristmas, after all. Elves are often pretty punchy and reckless as they come down from the Christmas Eve adrenaline rush. The assholes are probably fucking in a supply closet.

Whatever. I’ll punish them later.

But as I enter my office, it hits me that I have a bigger problem than insubordinate elves. The door of my private study is ajar. Fuck.

Maddie knows. Knows exactly how obsessed I am.

Inwardly, I groan, but she was bound to realize eventually. Maybe it’s better to get itallout in the open now. Hell, maybe seeing how fucking devoted I am will soften the blow of her finding out that I’ve lost the Santa gig.

Steeling myself for an uncomfortable conversation, I enter the study—and find it empty, too. For the first time, actual panic starts to set in.

But as I scan the room, searching for traces of foul play, I discover that everything is as I left it. Well, almost everything.

A ring rests on top of the stack of letters. Maddie’s ring.

On some level, I’m relieved that there’s no indication that anyone harmed my angel. But the fact that there’s no sign of a struggle also means that she left of her own free will. She willingly removed the ring.Myring.

She couldn’t have left a more obvious message if she’d penned a Dear John letter. But sneaking out of my office and leaving behind the ring is a pretty clear sign that she has no intention of writing another fucking letter to Santa.

Feeling as if I’ve been sliced open by a particularly sadistic elf, I shove the ring into my pocket and return to the main office. As I pour myself a drink to dull the pain, there’s a knock on my open office door. Not waiting to be invited, the reindeer walks over to the wet bar and helps himself to my scotch.

“What the fuck do you want, Blitzen?”

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