Chapter 12 Fleas Navidad and Festive Feelings
Fleas Navidad and Festive Feelings
Alyssa
Alyssa’s workweek, like all good things, had to come to an end.
Not that she wanted it to—especially not with the office so full of dog hair and Christmas lights and, more importantly, the regular appearance of one Evelyn Crawford, who had a way of looking both exhausted and annoyingly flawless at the same time.
Not that Alyssa was paying special attention or anything.
She just…noticed things. Like how Evelyn’s laugh, when it snuck out, sounded like someone daring the universe to be less serious for once.
Or the way she’d flick a pen between her knuckles when she was thinking, fast and rhythmic, until a good idea came and she’d set it down like a gavel.
It was Thursday, the day before the sanctuary’s big holiday fundraiser at the local Christmas market, which Crawford’s Pet Supplies was sponsoring.
More dogs than ever, more holiday decorations, more people darting from desk to desk with stacks of last-minute paperwork that needed to be filed before the market officially opened.
Even though the sanctuary would be closed until January, the fundraiser was crucial—it would help cover operating costs for the year ahead, and there was no better place to host it than the Christmas Market.
Alyssa had just finished wrangling a set of mismatched, enthusiastic mutts back into their respective pens—new volunteers were always so optimistic about “open office” time, until the puppies started chasing their own tails and then each other’s—and she was looking forward to her reward: sneaking up to the executive floor to check on Bug, who was presumably sprawled out on Evelyn’s couch like the world’s least productive assistant.
“Hey, Lee, can you finish up here?” Alyssa called, already halfway out the door.
Lee, who was busy retrieving a half-chewed stress ball from under the couch, gave her a thumbs up. “Are you seeing the boss lady again?” he asked, not bothering to lower his voice.
Alyssa rolled her eyes, but she didn’t slow down. The truth was, she’d seen more of Evelyn Crawford in the last month than she had her own reflection. It was not a hardship.
She took the stairs two at a time—Bug had, after all, proven himself capable of not only finding the CEO’s office but also the break room’s secret biscuit stash, and Alyssa figured any destruction would be proportional to the length of her absence.
She slowed as she reached the top floor, trying not to look too eager, and peeked through the glass panel of Evelyn’s door.
There they were. Evelyn and Bug, both in identical states of intense focus: Evelyn hunched over her laptop, typing with controlled aggression, and Bug splayed at her feet, snoring like a chainsaw in sleep mode.
The scene was so peaceful that Alyssa hesitated to knock, but she did anyway, then entered without waiting for an answer.
“Hi,” she said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near “weirdly cheerful substitute teacher.”
Evelyn’s head snapped up. She blinked twice, then relaxed when she saw it was Alyssa. “Oh, thank God. I thought it was the finance team again.”
Bug lifted his head, looked at Alyssa with soulful reproach, then burrowed deeper into the rug, clearly unimpressed.
“How’s my little runaway?” Alyssa grinned, dropping to her haunches to ruffle Bug’s ears. Even though Bug was officially Evelyn’s buddy, Alyssa still liked to play on his well-earned moniker.
“He’s single-handedly responsible for at least two spreadsheets being erased today,” Evelyn replied. “Not that I’m complaining.”
It was the first time Alyssa had seen Evelyn in anything other than a suit, and even though the woman’s “casual” was still a cashmere sweater and tailored trousers, she looked…softer. Less “CEO” and more “person you’d want to share a pizza with.”
“Sorry to barge in,” Alyssa said, pushing herself upright and dusting imaginary dog hair from her jeans. “I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow night.”
Evelyn’s brows knitted. “Tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, the Four Paws fundraiser at the market.” Alyssa paused, suddenly worried she’d miscalculated. “You…are coming, right?”
“Oh, right, yes!” Evelyn’s face coloured, just a touch. “Sorry. My brain’s at capacity right now. Tomorrow night, the Christmas market, yes. I’ll be there.”
Alyssa watched as Evelyn’s lips curled up, almost like she was looking forward to it. That was new.
“Do you want to go together?” Alyssa asked, trying to sound casual.
“Together?” Evelyn said, with a hint of playful dryness.
Alyssa’s face heated for some reason. “I mean, we could just arrive together and then do our own thing. Or—”
“Alyssa. Breathe.” Evelyn’s eyes twinkled, a sure sign she was teasing. “I’d love to go together.”
Alyssa grinned, sudden and wide. “Great. I’ll, um, pick you up. Or we can meet there, if you want. Whatever’s easiest.”
“Pick me up,” Evelyn said. “It’ll give me an excuse to get out of here early.”
“Six thirty?” Alyssa ventured.
“Six thirty’s perfect.”
There was a beat of silence. Bug snored, oblivious. Evelyn looked at Alyssa, then at Bug, then back at Alyssa, like she was trying to solve a particularly challenging puzzle.
“I’ll bring the dog,” Alyssa said.
“Please do,” Evelyn replied.
Alyssa left before she could say something embarrassing. As the door closed behind her, Alyssa heard Evelyn laugh, soft and unguarded.
The morning of the market fundraiser, Alyssa woke up before dawn, heart pounding with a combination of excitement and anticipation.
She ran through her usual routine: feeding the early riser dogs, driving into the city, making sure the temporary outdoor kennels were set up near the market.
She was halfway through organising a donation crate when Lil appeared at her side, wielding a clipboard and an expression of pure mischief.
“Tell me you have an outfit for tonight,” Lil said, not even bothering with a greeting.
Alyssa squinted at her. “I’m going to be wrangling dogs and hauling equipment. I’ll be covered in drool by eight p.m., tops.”
“Excuses,” Lil said. “This is a social event, not a cage cleaning. Look, I even got you a top.”
She held up a slightly-too-small red jumper decorated with a grinning reindeer and the words “Fleas Navidad.” It was aggressively festive.
Alyssa made a face, but took the knitted monstrosity. “You’re the worst.”
“I know,” Lil grinned, then sobered. “Seriously, though, are you okay about tonight?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Lil’s eyebrows shot up. “Alyssa, you’ve been vibrating like a jackhammer since Tuesday. You like her.”
“So?” Alyssa tried for nonchalance and failed spectacularly.
“So, don’t overthink it. Just go, have fun, maybe flirt a little.”
Alyssa was about to retort, but Bug chose that moment to butt her in the calf, demanding a scratch. She obliged, rubbing his head until he melted into a puddle of pleasure at her feet.
“See, Bug’s got the right idea,” Lil said, wandering off to scold a volunteer for putting a dog harness on upside down.
Alyssa watched her go, then looked down at Bug. “It’s just a market, right?”
Bug wagged his tail in what Alyssa could only interpret as reluctant encouragement.
At six fifteen, Alyssa stood outside Evelyn’s building, sweating under her borrowed “Fleas Navidad” jumper and a slightly-worse-for-wear parka. Bug was beside her, dressed in a sensible tartan scarf.
“He’s not wearing the antlers, don’t even try,” Alyssa had warned Lil.
The city was awash in holiday light, headlights and Christmas decorations and the glow of a hundred corner shops, all blending together into a kind of festive haze.
She checked her phone—early, but not too early. She texted “Outside!” with a bug emoji and waited.
Two minutes later, the front doors opened and Evelyn emerged.
She was wearing a long navy peacoat, a black scarf, and the sort of high-heeled boots that Alyssa suspected had never once touched a puddle.
She looked every inch the CEO, except for the way she was clutching a battered reusable shopping bag and smiling as soon as she spotted Alyssa.
Bug trotted forward, tail wagging so hard his whole body wobbled. Evelyn bent to greet him, murmuring, “Hello, troublemaker,” and ruffling his ears.
“You’re early,” Evelyn said, straightening and fixing her gaze on Alyssa.
“So are you,” Alyssa replied. She realized she was smiling like an idiot and tried to dial it back, but it didn’t work.
“Shall we?” Evelyn said.
They walked side by side through the city’s early winter darkness, Bug weaving a lazy figure-eight around their ankles.
The market was only a few blocks away, but the closer they got, the more the air vibrated with music, the scent of roasted chestnuts, and the shouts of people hawking everything from mulled wine to novelty baubles.
“I don’t remember it always being this packed.” Evelyn said as they pushed through the first wave of tourists.
Alyssa considered. “It’s London at Christmas. I think this is normal.” She steered them toward the less-crowded side street, the one lined with stalls selling handmade soaps and scented candles.
Bug, predictably, made a beeline for the bakery tent. Alyssa followed, and Evelyn followed Alyssa, which made Alyssa’s heart jump a little. They sampled cinnamon rolls and then something called a “mince pie doughnut,” which Evelyn declared “offensively good.”
They stopped to watch a busker playing “Last Christmas” on a violin. The woman’s hair was a mass of black curls that rivalled Alyssa’s own, and for a moment, Alyssa caught Evelyn looking at her, eyes soft and maybe a little vulnerable.
“What?” Alyssa asked.
Evelyn shook her head, smiling. “I was just thinking how nice it is to see this place from your side of things.”
“My side?”
“There’s something about you here. You’re more…grounded, I guess. Like your mind isn’t somewhere else, thinking of a million problems that might crop up.”
Alyssa blinked. No one except Lil had ever said that to her before. “Is that a good thing?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Ms Crawford.”
Evelyn laughed, deep and clear. “Do you want to see my favourite stall?”
Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “You have a favourite?”
“Of course. I’ve been coming here for years. We’ve sponsored the market for over a decade now.”
Evelyn led the way, weaving confidently through the crowd until they reached a small, dimly lit tent at the edge of the market. Inside, paper lanterns in varying shades of green and gold hung overhead, casting a warm glow. The air was heavy with fresh pine and something sharper—citrus, perhaps.
The vendor, an older woman with a shock of white hair and a knowing smile, looked up as they entered. “Evelyn, darling it’s so wonderful to see you again!” she called, her Brixton accent unmistakable. “I saved you one, like I do every year. I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
Alyssa wondered what the woman meant by that. Evelyn’s face lit up in a way Alyssa had never seen before. “You’re the best, Imelda.”
The woman produced a wreath made entirely of rosemary, bay leaves, and dried oranges. Evelyn took it with both hands, inhaling deeply. “It smells like my mum’s kitchen.”
Imelda turned her attention to Alyssa, looking her up and down with frank appraisal. “Who’s this then?”
Alyssa could feel herself blushing. “Alyssa Fox. I run the dog sanctuary up the road.”
Imelda looked from Alyssa back to Evelyn with a smirk. “You two have a lovely evening, yeah?”
Alyssa glanced at Evelyn, who was looking at her with an expression halfway between pleased and slightly embarrassed.
“We will,” Alyssa said, and meant it.
They left Imelda’s stall with the wreath in tow, Bug making friends with every child and pensioner who offered him a scratch.
Alyssa bought a pair of gingerbread men, one with an evil-looking grin, and they ate them while watching a troupe of middle-aged carollers perform “All I Want for Christmas is You” with alarming sincerity.
As the evening wore on, the crowd thinned, the lights glowed warmer, and Alyssa found herself walking closer to Evelyn than she had planned.
She liked the way Evelyn’s arm brushed hers every few steps, liked the way their conversation meandered from work to childhood stories to the most embarrassing things they’d ever done on a first date.
Evelyn’s was impressively mortifying. “I once dropped a full glass of Merlot in a woman’s lap and then tried to mop it up with my sleeve.”
Alyssa tried to top that, but the best she could do was, “I once lost a bet and had to take someone out to a fancy restaurant wearing a ridiculous Christmas jumper. In July.”
Evelyn choked on her mulled wine. “Please tell me there are pictures.”
“There are, and you’ll never see them.”
They looped around the market one last time, then wandered down a quieter street toward a small public garden, just for the sake of walking.
“This was good,” Evelyn said, voice soft.
“Yeah,” Alyssa replied. “It was.”
Bug circled them once, then sat, looking expectantly at Alyssa’s pocket. Alyssa snorted and nudged Evelyn’s shoulder with her own.
“You know,” she said, “I was worried you’d cancel on me tonight.”
Evelyn smiled, but there was a sadness under it. “I almost did.”
“Why?”
“Because this—” Evelyn gestured to the two of them, to Bug, to the whole bright, messy night, “—is new. I’m not great with new things. I’ve been stuck in a routine for so long, feeling like I’m barely keeping my head above water.”
Alyssa nodded, letting the silence settle. She wanted to say something reassuring, something cool and memorable, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I think you’re doing great, Evelyn. And I happen to like new things,” Alyssa replied, hoping she didn’t sound lame.
They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the edge of the garden, where the city’s noise faded to a dull hum.
They returned to Evelyn’s building, Bug padding contentedly behind them, and rode the elevator up to the Evelyn’s floor. Neither spoke much; the city lights outside said enough. At Evelyn’s door, they hesitated—caught between the night’s momentum and the awkwardness of real life.
“I’ve got tea,” Evelyn said.
“Sounds good,” Alyssa replied.
Evelyn shed her coat, then stood there, suddenly shy. “I don’t usually do this.”
Alyssa smiled, stepping closer but maintaining a respectful distance. “That makes two of us.”
They spent the next hour on the sofa, sipping tea and sharing stories—about their families, about their favourite holidays, about everything and nothing. At some point, Alyssa’s hand came close to Evelyn’s, hovering just near enough to feel the warmth between them.
Eventually, the conversation wound down. Bug curled at their feet, sighing with contentment. Alyssa watched the city lights flicker through the window, and for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel the need to be anywhere else.