The Elf and the Ice Princess Read Free Page B

winter, snow and pine, clean and
distinct but not overpowering. She couldn’t remember a cologne like it.
    “It’s okay,” he
reassured. “I gotcha.” He steadied her on her feet and slowly, reluctantly it
seemed, let her go.
    Carrie forced a
smile as unwelcome butterflies toured her insides. “Thanks. I appreciate the
catch.”
    “It was the
least I could do.”
    She shook
her head, chagrinned. “After my friend and I were so rude yesterday? You
could’ve laughed while I landed on my ass.
That’s
the least you could do.”
    He grinned
sheepishly and cocked his head, the bells on his hat jingling with the motion. 
“If I remember correctly, I spilled a drink all over you and then fell into
your lap. I don’t consider myself the offended party here.”
    The sweater
was disappointing, but his stumble into her lap had brightened up a bleak
evening. If she said that, though, he might ask about her bad day, and that would lead
to a personal conversation. Instead she waved the whole thing off. “Don’t worry
about it. We’re even.”
    Past Brett, the
crowded North Pole display loomed large and bright. With overeager glee,
several men and women dressed like him entertained parents and children queued
up to enter a cave of Styrofoam snow, plastic trees and enough twinkle lights
to power a small town. Animatronic reindeer lifted and lowered their heads to
the beat of “Jingle Bell Rock,” and a toddler-sized red and green train blasted
its mini-horn as it chugged into view, carrying the smaller set of Santa’s
visitors.
    “So…you
really are an elf.” It was one thing to be in college making a paycheck, but
Brett, whose nametag said “Toymaker General,” looked more like he was in his
early thirties, just a few years older than her. Carrie tried not to let her
face display any disdain; God knew she’d taken a few gigs well beneath her
while getting back on her feet after the divorce.
    Plus she was
going to hell-house next weekend and hadn’t found a dress yet. All the good
karma she could earn was desperately needed. This time she’d be nice to the
elf-man, and Lora wasn’t there to stop her.
    “Indeed I
am. And I’m glad you’re here. This way.” He scooped up her packages in one arm,
grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the snowy monstrosity, a frightening
twinkle in his eye.
    Nice had
its limits. “Wait! I didn’t come to see—”
    The
mini-train blasted, cutting her off. Brett practically pranced back to the hill
with her in tow, her packages held hostage for her compliance. Where was he taking
her? She should dig her heels in and demand her stuff back, and yet her feet
were following after him.
    They hit the
crowd of families, and he yelled, “Emergency elf business! Coming through!” The
children squealed in delight as he danced her through a sea of them, saying,
“’Scuse me! ’Scuse me!” and “’Scuse
me
, ma’am!” when he bumped into a family
whose muscles bespoke extreme devotion to the CrossFit way.
    The family
laughed, and he jingled his cap bells at them.
    Carrie tried to
shrink to as small as her curvy 5’9” frame would allow, but she was being
dragged by the tallest elf of the bunch, and he was making
such
a racket. Her
bad karma hadn’t let up. Her cheeks burned as she prayed nobody she’d ever met
in her entire life was anywhere near the mall.
    The closest
way out of the spotlight was into the hill, so she let him pull her inside.
Instead of heading for Santa—thank God—he took her through a side door into a
tiny break-room.
    Carrie rounded on
him as he set her packages down on the coffee stand. “What the hell are you
doing?” She jerked her hand from his grip and looked around the unoccupied
space. Even the employee area was not free of “the spirit,” with its bedecked
pink tree and posters of Christmas movies.
    He cocked
his head yet again, pondering her as if her anger confounded him. “We were
cutting. I didn’t want them to get upset.”
    “We