Chapter Four
Saved by the Tinsel
Holly
I’ve had bad mornings before, but this one surely has taken the top of the list. Especially when you add in “Jonathan screaming at me before I’ve even clocked in” to the day right behind my near-death experience and losing all the hot cocoas.
I’ve barely made it through the staff entrance before his onslaught begins.
“Holly.” My name cracks through the air like the snap of one of those long horse whips. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” His voice screeches like nails scratching down a chalkboard, causing me to wince as my teeth grind against each other.
I stop short as he steps in front of me. Yikes, I’ve seen Jonathan mad, but not angry tea kettle mad. Customers are peeking around shelves to see what all the fuss is about. So now I’m covered in sticky, dried hot chocolate and being stared at by random people. Lovely.
“One Mariah Carey chorus past fashionably late?”
His hand balls into a fist on his hip as his eyes squint in disdain. Okay…so my joke didn’t land. Shocker.
He’s wearing his signature black slacks with the loudest Christmas button-up I think anyone could find. There’re wrinkles already forming down the front, something that only happens when the frazzled, control freak side of him comes forward. Great, now my day just got longer.
“You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, working to finish the North Pole display long before guests began arriving for photos with Santa. Now, instead of your talented touch, I had to step up and do it myself. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Claus looks possessed instead of warm and bubbly.
So instead of fond, happy memories, kids are going to have nightmare fuel.
All because…” His eyes flick down my body, slowly assessing my now stained elf costume and sticky tights.
I lift my toes up, the tiny silver bells ringing gently as they rock back-and-forth.
You know that moment after the teakettle alerts you that the water is boiling?
When it seems to rock, the longer it waits for you to pull it from the heat?
That’s what Jonathan looks like, the rocking teapot screaming for you to move it.
I lean to the side, peering around him to see Mrs. Claus. Sure enough, he’s somehow managed to turn the cute lady into something demonic. She looks as if she might audition for a role in a Christmas horror film, not the cute, classic version of Santa Claus.
I wince as my eyes move from the display and back to the fuming teakettle. “Yeah, that looks bad. Not sure how you managed that one.”
“Well, what happened to you?” Jonathan asks as he glares at the wonderful whipped cream stain on the edge of my skirt.
He scrutinizes it as if he can discern exactly the story if he only stares long enough.
My damp elf hat is dangling limply from my finger as I twist them back and forth.
“Did you wrestle someone for their hot cocoa this morning? Is that—chocolate?” His finger shakes as he points to the melted brown stain decorating what is supposed to be the “snow” on my hat.
Between his hand balled up on his hip, the anger radiating off of him, and his tone of voice, I feel more like a petulant child who ruined the family Christmas photo, instead of the adult who’s had a shitty morning.
“Close,” my voice barely audible over the Christmas music pouring from above us. “I was pushed off the sidewalk and into oncoming traffic.”
He scoffs as he rolls his eyes to the heavens. “I’m sure you were. You know Holly I really stuck my neck out for you when I gave you the promotion to head elf. Maybe you’re not…”
His words die off as soon as a voice as smooth as melted chocolate comes from behind me. I watch in fascination as his entire demeanor changes because of whomever just walked up.
“Excuse me,” the deep male voice says right behind me. As if his words are the siren song to my libido, every inch of me reacts to his voice. My spine straightens as a chill runs down it. My heart skips a beat as heat floods places untouched in years.
“I think this belongs to Holly,” Ryatt says as he walks up next to me holding out a fresh cup of hot cocoa. He even made sure to put chocolate shavings on top of the whipped cream. How did he even know I’d want that?
Jonathan blinks slowly as if his brain can’t comprehend what is happening in front of him. To be fair, I’m not sure what’s happening either. “You two know each other?”
“I wouldn’t say we know each other…” I manage as my gloved fingers brush along Ryatt’s. Tingles race up my arm, but not the static electricity kind. No, this is something different. Something I’ve never experienced.
Ryatt’s perfectly pink lips tilt up into a smile.
It’s like seeing the sun glisten across freshly fallen snow.
Rare, beautiful, and enrapturing. I don’t know how to paint, but I’d give anything to paint his face onto a canvas, forever holding this moment.
The moment a man as handsome as him shared what feels like a secret smile with me.
He doesn’t stop looking at me, his eyes holding mine as he answers Jonathan.
“She was almost part of the morning traffic report. Thankfully, she is safely inside listening to…” He looks over to Jonathan who is staring at Ryatt with his mouth agape.
“Someone on a power trip, who wields it as a weapon against employees who can’t fight against him. ”
Jonathan startles as if he’s been slapped.
I can’t help the laugh that slips out of me.
Or my face flushing when Ryatt slides his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
His cinnamon bark, melted marshmallows, and warm brown sugar smell filling my nostrils.
He smells like freshly baked snickerdoodle cookies and I might have a new favorite cookie.
Ryatt doesn’t miss a beat or slow down as he leans from side to side, taking in the sad display behind my floundering boss. I don’t know why or how, but I have this feeling that what's going to happen next is going to silence Jonathan for the rest of the day.
“Are you trying to give kids nightmares with this horror film version of the sweetest lady to ever exist? Whoever designed that shouldn’t be allowed near decorations ever again.”
A laugh barks out of me as my hand flies up to try to muffle the sound. Ryatt tilts his head down, giving me a wink before he looks back at my boss. Remember how I said he was an angry tea pot earlier? Welp, he’s officially flaming red and vibrating. Yikes!
“I’ll have you know…” Jonathan starts, but Ryatt doesn’t even give him a chance before he’s holding up his hand.
“Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it.”
We all turn to look at the display, confusion clouding my mind as I take in the entirely different display.
Instead of the horror display, now there stands a beautiful version of Mrs. Claus holding a pan full of cookies that look so real I almost want to touch them to confirm.
There’s a beautiful wooden island behind her covered in trays and trays of cookies.
The details in this display feel so authentic, as if this kitchen really is hers and we are seeing a glimpse of it.
“How did you…” I breathe out as my eyes scan the entire display. There isn’t a single piece of the old display. Where did it all go? He didn’t move. Did he talk to someone before showing up with the hot cocoa? There’s no way. It’s not even been that long since we were in each other's arms outside.
“When did you…How…” I can’t seem to form a single sentence to save my life.
He leans down, his nose skimming through my hair as his breath tickles my ear. “Don’t worry Berry, I’ll explain it one day.”
“Berry?” I whisper, mortified as my cheeks flare. “That’s… not my name.”
Ryatt just smiles, infuriatingly calm.
“Your cheeks go red like holly berries,” he murmurs. “It fits.”
Jonathan lets out a huff, groaning as his hands run down his face. His cheeks are redder than Rudolph’s nose blinking from the display beside him and I’m pretty sure I just saw three new gray hairs pop in his luscious golden brown locks. He’ll freak when he sees those later.
He points at Ryatt. “If Mr. December here thinks he can do it so much better than me, fine, go for it.” He swings his body towards mine, poking the air between us.
“And you! We have a little over an hour before the eleven o’clock Meet with Santa.
You better hustle your way over there because we will not have another disaster on the roster for today. ”
With that he whirls around, stomping off through the employee doors, mumbling about entitled handsome men and their fitted suits.
Both Ryatt and I look at each other before we both burst out laughing.
I’m laughing because I’ve always dreamed of telling him exactly where to shove it.
Ryatt though? I’m not sure why he’s laughing.
My laughing subsides as I walk towards the display that only moments ago was Fear Street and now is the embodiment of what I’d imagine Mrs. Claus’s kitchen would be.
I can almost see Ryatt standing next to her at the island, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he rolls out another ball of dough.
Finger streaks of flour across his forehead as he smiles fondly at something Mrs. Claus said.
There’s something about the scene that feels so real, as if the movie scene is playing out in my mind.
What I wouldn’t give for a pad of paper and a pen to write down this exact scene.
Shaking my head, I try to stop imagining Ryatt, this perfect stranger doing anything.
I don’t even get a chance to before his hand lands on my lower back, the warmth seeping through every single layer of clothing.
Not even my shapewear can tamper the feeling of him being so close to me.
We both stare at the display as we move closer to it, my eyes flicking every direction trying to capture the entire picture.
“She’s stunning,” I whisper in awe. “I’ve never seen a version of her that looks like this. She looks so real, as if this is a perfectly captured moment of her life.”
I turn to Ryatt as his eyes round in adoration while he stares at Mrs. Claus.
“She truly is amazing and the heartbeat of the North Pole. Without her, I don’t think Christmas would ever be on time.”
He says it with such certainty it makes me pause. Like he isn’t talking about a myth or a legend—but about someone he actually… knows.
“You say that like you’ve met her,” I blurt before my brain can stop me.
Ryatt just gives me that small, warm, infuriatingly secretive smile—the kind that makes it feel like he’s in on some private Christmas joke no one else gets. Least of all me.
“You sound like—”
“Holly, you have to hurry. Someone knocked over the reindeer and if Jonathan sees it, I’m pretty sure he will murder all of us.” Emmilene, one of our newest elfs, says as she races over to where I’m standing, the bells on her booties ringing as each foot hits the ground.
“I’ll be right there,” I sigh. It’s always something, every single day. I swear if I didn’t love this holiday, and need the money, I’d have walked out already.
I turn back around to Ryatt, who is far closer than I thought he would be, and hold out my hand for him to shake.
He stares at it for a moment as if he’s never seen a handshake, or maybe he just doesn’t understand why I’m holding my hand out to shake?
Slowly, his hand comes up to mine and the second our hands connect that same weird electrical current races up my arm.
It feels as though it slams into my heart, jolting it and speeding it up at the same time.
I look from our joined hands to his ridiculously handsome face before I shake myself out of it.
What are you doing Holly? He’s just a nice man who saved you from dying, stood up to your boss, and brought you hot cocoa.
None of that screams “I want you to have my babies and whisk you away from here.” Maybe he’s just an incredibly nice person who also happens to be the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
I mean if Jacob Elordi showed up right next to Ryatt claiming he loved me, I’d still pick Ryatt over him!
Realizing I’ve been just staring at our joined hands, envisioning having his babies, I nervously laugh as I shake his hand.
“Thanks for saving me, and the hot cocoa. Also for standing up to my boss. You didn’t have to do any of that. Truly. I’m in your debt.”
Ryatt smiles as he brings my gloved hand up to his lips, smirking when he sees the dot of brown from the melted chocolate.
I thought he’d avoid it, but instead he plants a kiss right on it as those periwinkle blue eyes of his flick to mine.
This close, with his eyes only on mine, I swear I can see tiny snowflakes in them.
But there’s no way, not a possible way, right?
“Holly, it’s been my pleasure to be here. I’ll hold you to that debt I hope you know,” he winks before taking a step back. He bows, actually bows at the waist before lifting back up and smiling at me.
“Come on, we’ve really got to go.” Emmilene says as she tugs on my arm.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say as we turn to walk away.
She leans in close to me, her eyes flicking back to where we left Ryatt. “Who is that?”
I shrug my shoulders, because really I only know his name, and how it feels to have his arms wrapped around me. How his smells feels like being home for Christmas. And just how much I wish I knew more.
“Just the man who saved me from dying today,” I say right before we turn the corner. I take one last look and sure enough he hasn’t moved.
Is it insane of me to wish he’d run after me?