Page 16 of Santa’s Lawyer

He moved his hand to her cheek, and she broke out into a grin, closing her eyes and luxuriating in his touch and attention, like a cat in a sunbeam. Everything about it felt warm and right.

His fingertips grazed her skin as he tucked a soft, blonde strand of hair behind her ear.

Avery opened her eyes to see Louis smiling back at her, their lips mere inches apart.

“You aren’t the one who decides if I get the job, are you? I wouldn’t want to be accused of trying to charm my way in,” she said.

“No. I’m not,” he confirmed in a serious tone. He dropped his hand and took a step back. “There are formalities that some feel must be observed, traditions that must be upheld—I advised against…” He shook his head. “All I can say is,” he said, softening his voice, “if it were up to me, the search would be over.”

Avery melted. “Okay.”

Louis took a deep breath and turned to leave.

“But you are coming back, right?” she asked.

“Wild reindeer, Avery,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the room, closing the bookshelf passageway behind him.

Avery sighed and turned back to the books.

It was time to get to work.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE NORTH POLE, AVERY’S LIBRARY

The following morning, Avery was lounging in red and gold silk pajamas on her favorite couch, surrounded by fuzzy blankets and pillows, reading a book on the anatomy of magic reindeer. Her hair was still bouncy and soft, her skin still glowing, her cheeks and lips still perfectly rouged. She’d used the magic bracelet to decorate the entire library: it was covered in baubles, twinkling lights, and garlands dramatically draped over every surface. There was an enormous spruce tree centered in front of the enchanted windows, enthusiastically decorated in tinsel and vintage ornaments reminiscent of her childhood. She’d even created her own perfume to make herself as irresistible as possible: it smelled like molasses, coffee, and freshly baked caramel corn. She spritzed some on her neck and her wrists; it would fade to the perfect strength by the time Louis returned.

In front of her, a three-tiered coffee table of her own design stretched the length of the long sofa. It was covered in books, espresso-stained mugs, and half-eaten trays of cookies. On the center tier was a self-playing grand piano no larger than a dinner plate, softly spinning jazzy Christmas classics into the warm, rich atmosphere of the library.

But she hadn’t spent all night simply eating cookies and preparing for Louis’ return.

Suspended in the air throughout the room were Avery’s notes. There were bullet-point lists, Venn diagrams, and messy paragraphs, with red ribbons pinned to bows connecting corresponding concepts. Halfway through the night, she stopped to wonder how much less traumatic the Big City bar exam might have been if she had possessed this pen. Back then, all she had was her laptop, Chinese takeout, and her mother’s wonderfully awful jokes to keep her sane. Now, with infinite coffee, sugar, and magic at her disposal, Avery wasted not a single moment of her time in the library, transferring everything she knew about Christmas from her heart to her pen to the air in front of her.

She had cracked it and was taking a reading break to celebrate when Louis walked in.

“Good morning, Ave—” Louis stopped mid-sentence and looked around, dumbstruck, at the Christmas chaos that surrounded him.

Avery set down her book, grabbed a cylindrical object off the coffee table, and bounded her way over to Louis.

“Good morning!” she said at a volume more suited for a crowded shopping mall than a library. “I have a gift for you.” She held out one end of the package to him.

“A Christmas cracker!” he said.

“Yes! I made it myself,” she said, out of breath with enthusiasm. “I hope I did it right. Here! Pull!”

He grabbed the other end of the decorated tube and gave it a tug. A loud series of cracks and pops emanated from the miniature fireworks show that burst forth from the cracker. A paper hat with “Louis” emblazoned on the front flew out and landed atop his head. A flock of tiny exploding hearts and shooting stars brushed past his cheeks, forming clouds and peppering his shoulders with snow. He took in the frenetically festive display dancing around him, flabbergasted.

Two small objects remained floating in the air between them: an envelope and a box. Louis grabbed and opened the tiny box at Avery’s urging. It contained a small enamel Christmas tree pin that said, “A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS.”

“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.

Louis could only smile and nod.

“Here,” Avery said, taking the pin and stepping close to him, attaching it to the lapel of his suit jacket.

She heard him take a long, deep breath in through his nose as she secured the pin to his blazer.

Taking a step back, she admired her handiwork and his dazed look. Her perfume must have hit the mark.