CHAPTER FOUR
THE NORTH POLE
Avery gasped.
There was a massive fireplace and desks and books, of course.
But everything else dissolved into the background when she laid eyes on the world's most inviting couch: it was leather, well-worn and covered in plush pillows and throws.
She had to stop herself from grabbing the first book within reach and diving onto the oversized cushions in front of the crackling fire.
As she made her way into the room, Gregory launched himself two inches into the air beside her, furiously flapping as he attempted to delay his inevitable flop on the carpet.
“Nearly there,” he muttered as he pushed himself up by his beak and fins, shaking his head. “Make ya-self at ‘ome, Ms. ‘oarfrost,” he then invited. “Some reading materials here tah get ya started. Your tutor should be here right quick.”
“Thank you, Gregory,” Avery said, as the delusional penguin waddled out of the room.
A moment later, she heard a familiar voice in the hall.
She looked to the doorway to see none other than Louis, immaculately dressed in a deep red silk suit with a gold-and-red tie, buttoning his suit jacket.
“You!” she exclaimed, running toward a beaming Louis. With great effort, she stopped short of throwing her arms around him.
“Why, Ms. Hoarfrost,” he said, looking at her appraisingly, “the North Pole suits you.”
“So that settles it,” she said. “This isn’t a dream. I’m in the North Pole.”
“Indeed, you are.”
“It was a bit disorienting waking up here this morning,” she admitted. “A little heads up might have been nice.”
Louis furrowed his brow. “I do apologize, I thought we had made that clear enough in the terms and conditions accompanying the NDA you signed with your application.”
“Right, of course,” Avery said, reminding herself that she was there for a legal job interview, so this probably wasn’t the right time to admit that she might have scrolled through the terms and conditions of a legally binding document a little too quickly.
“I suppose that slipped my mind in the excitement of the morning. This has been a lot to take in. And I’ve met quite a few new people. Well, not people,” she added.
“That’s understandable,” Louis said. “Perhaps now is a good time for me to get a bit more specific about why you’re here.”
Avery sighed with relief. A conversation with a human would be a refreshing change of pace. “That would be great, yes, please.”
Louis walked over to the leather couch and gestured for her to sit.
She took a moment to drink in the sight of him: the most captivating man she’d ever met, inviting her to sit beside him on a luxurious sofa.
The firelight danced across his face, and Avery found herself right back where she was the night before: butterflies swarming in her stomach, enchantment clouding her judgment.
She sat down very close to him. He did not move away.
“Ms. Hoarfrost—”
“Avery,” she corrected, draping her arm on the back of the couch between them.
“Avery,” he repeated with a softness that undid the last scrap of professionalism she was trying to maintain.
“The job you're interviewing for,” he paused, turning his head slightly, as if bracing himself against a strong wind, “is to be—”
“Santa’s lawyer,” Avery finished for him.
Louis looked at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and confusion. “Santa Claus is real,” he insisted with grave seriousness.
“Yes, and,” she said, inviting him to continue.
“Erm, yes, well,” he said. “And—some people might find that hard to believe.”
She shrugged. “I’ve always believed in Santa.”
Outside the library window, bells on bobtails rang.
“Right,” he said. “Right, of course you have. So, you’re…alright?”
“Are you asking me if I’m going to go into some sort of panic spiral because you revealed the existence of Santa Claus?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I’m realizing that’s not really your style, is it, Avery?”
“No, it’s not, Louis,” she said, leaning in a little closer.
He glanced briefly at her mouth before clearing his throat. “Okay then, grab your pen from your pocket,” he instructed.
She sat up and pulled the pen out of her front pocket by the feather and held it at the ready.
“Write your name,” Louis said.
She glanced around. “I have nothing to write on.”
“Hmm,” he said. “May I?”
He reached for the pen as she extended it toward him, their fingers brushing as he took it from her hand.
Avery looked down and found a faint sparkle radiating from her skin where they touched. It grew, pulsing and glittering, sending a zap of giddiness straight to her chest.
She looked from her sparkling hand up to Louis for an explanation.
He quickly turned away, cheeks pink.
Louis brandished the pen, waving it in the air beside them, as if writing on an invisible chalkboard in front of the couch. Glowing golden trails of letters hung in the air like neon. He wrote:
A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS
She stared, entranced by the words floating and gently bobbing in the air before her. He then added a comma and used the pen to gently nudge the “A” right next to “VERY.” Now it read:
AVERY, HAPPY CHRISTMAS
He circled the words, dragged the circle with the pen, and sent it swirling around her head before it came to rest on the curved mantle above the fireplace.
“This is a magic pen, which should help you in your studies. Magic—” Louis explained, sliding the pen back into her breast pocket, “—is real.”
“Wow,” she said.
He puffed his chest out a bit.
“I mean, that’s beautiful,” Avery said. “But I sort of figured magic was real when I met the talking polar bear. Plus, I mean, if Santa is real, magic would have to be real by extension, right?”
“Huh,” Louis pondered. “Perhaps this process will be easier than I thought.”
“I think you’ll find I’m,” she scooched closer to him until they were sharing a cushion, “very adaptable.”
“That's an excellent quality in a lawyer,” he said, resting his arm on the back of the couch.
“So, am I nailing the interview?” she asked, sliding her arm next to his. Their hands briefly touched, sending another thrill of pleasure tingling up her arm.
“So far, so good,” Louis said with a wry smile. “Now, you just have to pass the North Pole bar exam.”
“WHAT?” Avery leaped from the couch.
“Oh, dear, I thought you knew!” he said, scrambling off the sofa.
“What if I don’t pass? Can I take it twice?
How long before the exam?” She began pacing in front of the fireplace and briefly considered throwing herself in.
The bar exam had been one of the worst experiences of her young adult life.
She’d passed up job opportunities in other states that would have required another bar exam.
She only got through it because her mom let her come home and did all her laundry for the last two weeks before the test.
This time, she had no one.
“I—” Louis raised his hands helplessly in front of himself. “This is not the part I expected you to react to, Ms. Hoarfrost.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said under her breath, shaking her head and continuing her anxious pacing.
Louis stepped into her path, halting her. “Would it comfort you to know that this is not like any bar exam you’ve taken before?” he asked.
She paused. “Maybe.”
“Would you like to sit back down and hear more about it?” Louis invited.
“I think I’d like to resume pacing,” she replied.
“That’s quite all right,” he said, before offering cautiously, “Christmas cookie?” Out of thin air, Louis produced a beautifully decorated sugar cookie on a small plate and presented it to her.
“Okay,” Avery agreed reluctantly. She resented the implication that she needed to be pacified, but it was working. And delicious.
“Actually,” she said, while chewing, “I think I could probably use a proper breakfast.”
“Certainly,” he said. “You may have anything you like. What do you consider a proper breakfast?”
She looked at him skeptically.
“Truly, anything you can imagine. Magic, remember?”
Avery thought she might as well take it for a spin. “Alright then,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “Fried chicken, waffles, and real maple syrup,” she challenged.
“That sounds like a rare treat,” he replied. “May I join you?”
“I’d be delighted,” she said.
Louis offered his arm. Avery linked her arm through his and rested her hand on his forearm. The warmth of him immediately flooded her with serenity, chasing away any echoes of anxiety from her bar exam flashbacks. She let out a long, slow exhale.
He led her to the far end of the library and turned a corner that Avery was sure wasn’t there five minutes ago.
She stopped in her tracks.
Before her was a dining nook with a large wooden table and two chairs.
The table was full of stunning platters of food: crispy fried chicken; golden waffles; fresh fruit; glass bottles of thick, amber syrup; powdered sugar; hot sauce.
A toy train carting butter, and salt and pepper shakers chugged in a circle around a pile of plates and cutlery.
In the center was a stunning decorative arrangement full of flowers, juniper boughs, and pinecones.
She looked at Louis and smiled widely. “Now this is a proper use of magic.”
Louis withdrew his arm and pulled out a chair for Avery to sit in. He pulled his chair close to hers.
“I can’t say I’ve had this interesting combination before,” he admitted, inspecting the table.
“Oh, please, allow me,” she said, putting a waffle on both of their plates, topping them with fried chicken, and pouring an atrocious amount of syrup on her own plate before passing it to Louis. “No stomachaches at the North Pole, right?”
“Never,” he said, dousing his own food with a suitable amount of syrup. He carved off a small piece of chicken with a bit of waffle, swirled it in the syrup, and took a bite.
“Oh, hell’s bells,” Louis said, covering his mouth with his hand.
Avery laughed, tucking into her own plate.
“How is that possible, anyway? No stomachaches?” she asked.