CHAPTER SIX
THE NORTH POLE
Her head was swimming. The most romantic, magical moment of her life was just cut short. But there was no time to consider what had almost transpired, because she was about to go meet Santa. Not a strip mall representative. The real deal. For a job interview.
Avery went to a nearby mirror to inspect herself in advance of her meeting, shaking her head and marveling at how just the day before yesterday she was shopping for candles.
And now here she was. Lifting her wrist to her mouth, she remembered that she didn’t need to use her bracelet—she could simply do magical things.
She willed herself to wear a new suit which instantly materialized: a dark green silk double-breasted jacket with gold buttons over a gold camisole, matching pants, and darker green velvet pumps.
She magically pinned her hair back in vintage victory rolls with a few glittery strands of tinsel wound through them, and slid her pen into the pocket on the inside of her blazer.
Avery was spritzing herself with a bit of her custom perfume for luck as Ander and Gregory arrived at the library.
“Good day, Ms. Hoarfrost!” Ander announced as he opened the bookcase door. “We’re here to escort you to—”
“Well, well, well, would you look at that!” Gregory exclaimed, interrupting Ander and launching himself across the floor, landing with a thud a few feet from Avery.
“She’s a lovely jubbly, ain’t she, Andy?
” he asked. Gregory pushed himself up by his beak and waddled around her in a circle, flapping his fins.
“And that smell! You been bakin’ biscuits in here, love? ”
Avery twirled around to follow Gregory’s journey.
“A scent I created last night,” she said modestly. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, you smell like a right treat, dear. That explains the look on ol’ Louis’ face in the hallway, don’t it, Andy?”
She blushed and tried to hide her victorious smile.
“That’s quite enough, Gregory. Ms. Hoarfrost has somewhere to be. Right this way, if you please.” Ander gestured toward the exit.
Avery paused by the coffee table and picked up a small, gift-wrapped box.
She’d made it the night before: a customary North Pole greeting gift for Santa.
She wondered what gift Santa, the greatest gift-giver of all time, would bring her upon their first meeting.
He’d be impossible to match. But she was proud of what she’d come up with.
She followed Ander and Gregory down a series of new hallways. The further they strayed from the library, the more clinical and sterile her surroundings became. The floor was beige linoleum tile, the walls an institutional white. Ander and Gregory had ceased their banter.
They stopped in front of a plain white door.
“You can wait right in this room, Ms. Hoarfrost,” Ander said. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
“Good luck, dearie,” Gregory said, clicking his beak.
Avery entered a bare, white room with a fluorescent overhead light, a small metal table, and a mirror covering most of the opposite wall. There was nothing warm or whimsical in sight. It felt...off. Avery took a seat.
Moments later, a tall man with dark, slicked-back hair, a black goatee, and a Bluetooth headset whipped open the door.
Avery stood, smiled, and extended her hand. “Hi! I’m—”
The man held up a finger, silently bidding her to wait, as he looked at an electronic device in his palm.
Avery stood quietly, waiting for him to explain when she would get to meet Santa.
She regarded his black suit, grey tie, and black, shiny shoes with suspicion; he reminded her of a man who had once cut in front of her in line at a coffee shop in the financial district of the Big City.
“Just get it done, I gotta go, another interview,” he said, hanging up.
“Hi, I’m Avery Hoarfrost,” she said, trying again. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hi. Santa. Sit,” he commanded. He pulled an electronic pad out of his jacket pocket and busied himself tapping on the screen.
Avery slowly sat, eyebrows knitted together.
“You’re...Santa?”
After a moment, he looked up from his tablet. His eyes were not twinkling. “What’s that, April?”
“Avery. It’s...so nice to finally meet you,” she said, confused, but trying to recover her manners. “Here, this is for you.”
She slid the gift-wrapped box across the table.
He pocketed it without a word.
“So, you’re my new lawyer?” he asked, glancing up.
“Isn’t that what we’re here to discuss?”
“Did you pass the test?” he asked, impatience creeping into his voice.
“Well, there was quite a bit of bell-ringing today,” she said with a winning smile.
He stared at Avery, blank-faced.
Avery sobered up. “Yes, I passed the test. Louis said I was ready.”
“Louis, right,” he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Great. You’re hired. So, from here on out, our conversations are privileged. Got it? You’re my lawyer now. The last guy, he wasn’t a Christmastime consigliere. Do you know what I mean? I need someone who can handle what’s about to go down.”
“What’s about to go down?” Avery asked.
“I’m selling Christmas,” he said, tapping the table with the stylus from his tablet.
Avery laughed, incredulous. “Sorry, what?”
“Selling it. The whole thing,” he said, fidgeting in his chair.
“I don’t understand,” she admitted. “How can you sell Christmas?”
“I’m immortal. I can do whatever I want,” he explained, pushing his chair back.
He began pacing across the room. “Some private equity guys and I have been in talks for years. They’ve got the manufacturing and distribution worked out.
I walk away with a few billion dollars, Christmas stays in the hands of the toy professionals, and the workshop gets stripped for parts.
Some really valuable antiques in there.”
Avery’s head was spinning. “Why on earth does Santa need money? You have magic. You don't want for anything here.”
He went quiet for a moment while typing out a message on his tablet, as if he had forgotten Avery was there.
“You’ve been here what, a couple of days?” he finally asked.
“I’ve lost track, but yes, I think that’s right,” Avery answered.
“Well, I've been here a lot longer than that, kid.”
Avery bristled at his infantilizing language. If this weren’t a job interview, she might have walked out.
“And let me tell you, it doesn’t stay magical forever,” he continued. “You're here long enough, and you really start to see the big picture. You can zoom out over the centuries. The whole operation is rotten. I'm cashing out.”
Blinking hard, Avery tried desperately to process this information. “What do you mean, ‘rotten?’”
“Nobody gets what they deserve,” he insisted.
“Do you know they stopped mining coal here? Almost nobody on the naughty list. Santa used to be the decider,” he said, punching his palm with his fist. “He used to mete out justice. That was real power. Children are terrible now. No one’s holding them accountable.
It’s just greed and hate and violence. These mortals don't deserve presents. There are no more epiphanies. No more revelations. No Christmas miracles. It’s over. It’s been over.”
“I...” Avery was at a loss for words. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “There are still good people. People trying to be better. That has to count for something.”
“Results count, Amelia,” he said, putting both palms on the table and leaning forward.
Avery sat back like she’d been slapped across the face.
“It’s time for a change, and I'm here to shepherd in that change.”
Avery had to push back. “That…doesn’t feel like it fits the spirit of Christmas,” she said.
“Oh boy, you really bought into your training, didn’t you?” he said, standing up and chuckling. He rubbed his hands together. “Alright, that’s good, actually. I need someone who really believes and can put on a good show. The panel will love that.”
“Panel?” she asked.
“Unfortunately,” he said, rolling his eyes, “this sale requires approval by majority of the Christmas Court.”
“Christmas C—” Avery cut herself off. One thing at a time. “But why would they approve? That’s not what Christmas is all abo—”
“I am Christmas, Amy,” he said, interrupting her. “And you’re my lawyer. And we’re due in court in a few hours. So, here’s the papers.” He tapped his bracelet to hers, and it beeped. She pressed the green gem, and documents appeared before her in the air.
“Review the application, figure out our pitch. It should all still be fresh in your mind from your studies. Meet me in the courtroom in three hours.” He headed toward the door.
Avery didn’t speak, didn’t blink.
He stopped, turned around, and sighed.
“Okay. Yeah. Alice. Listen. I’m sure this is a lot to take in. You got teleported to the North Pole. Shoved in a library by a bunch of weirdos. Forced to go over everything you knew about Christmas, take a test, and now you’re in this ugly room with me, right?”
So, she wasn’t crazy. She let out a nervous laugh. “Right.”
“Let me break it down for you,” he said, sitting back down across from her.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “The magnitude of this operation. Do you have any idea what it takes to deliver presents to 8.3 billion customers? In one night?” His words were fast and clipped.
“You used to get by on a jolly old elf and a sleigh. And then, things got too big, and for a while, you needed a guy like me who could utilize new tech to keep making the old ways work, despite the explosion in the population.” He re-buttoned his suit jacket.
“But things change and evolve,” he continued.
“If we do another year like this on our own, we’re going to do Christmas poorly.
We’re going to keep giving presents to people who should be getting coal, rewarding bad behavior.
Maybe the whole thing breaks down, and people end up with the wrong gifts.
Or we blow a deadline and miss Christmas altogether.
We’re going to ignore these risks and reality and keep clinging to these traditions, for the sake of what?
Nostalgia? If we keep doing things the way we are, society can’t move forward.
Kids won't want to leave and terraform Mars because they’ll be worried about whether Santa can fly a spaceship.
” He stood and headed back toward the door.
Avery cocked her head. “Wait. What?”
“The point is, Annalee, this plan is the only way. Don’t think of it as selling Christmas to a private equity firm.
Think of it as saving Christmas by partnering with experts to leverage natural synergies, drive efficiency, and ensure the best possible end-user experience.
Everyone is counting on you to get this approved by the Christmas Court.
Christmas is counting on you to get this right. ”
He strode over to her. “They told me you were the best lawyer, the only lawyer for this job. Can you do this? Can you help me save Christmas?”
Avery stood up, huffed a breath, and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I will figure out a way. I’ll get to work. Where is the courtroom?”
“Talk to reception,” he said over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.
She shook her head, rolled back her shoulders, and bounced on her toes, trying to loosen up. Save Christmas. Okay.