Chapter 23 Sylvie
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sylvie
Standing on Grandma Rose’s porch with three reindeer shifters behind me felt surreal. The house looked exactly the same as it had when I’d arrived for my PTO, but I felt like a completely different person.
“Are you sure about this?” Kenai asked quietly, his hand finding mine.
“No,” I admitted. “But we need her help, and she’s the best lawyer I know—even if she’s going to make this incredibly awkward.”
“How awkward are we talking?” Taimyr asked.
Before I could answer, the door swung open.
“Sylvie, I thought you’d gone back to the city.” Her eyes weren’t on me but on the three men standing just behind me.
“Hi, Grandma. Yeah, so about that—”
“Sylvie, would you stop being obtuse and just introduce me to your boy toys?”
“Grandma!”
She looked at my mates and then back at me with that calculating stare I knew too well—the one that had broken down at least two federal judges.
“Don’t ‘Grandma’ me. I am eighty-two years old, Sylvie Marie Hartwell. I know a little something about how the world works. I was also the only woman in my law class, as you know. Let’s just say sleeping with only three men at the same time is rookie numbers, sweetheart.”
“GRANDMA!” I buried my face in my hands. Oh my god.
Behind me, I heard Aleksi make a choking sound. Taimyr was definitely laughing.
“Since my granddaughter won’t do it—hello, I’m Rose Eliane Hartwell, Esquire. Come inside, all of you, before we catch cold.” She stepped back, letting them in.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kenai said, his voice barely hiding his amusement as he ducked to enter. The other two followed, each ducking so their antlers wouldn’t hit the doorframe. My grandmother observed this with her hawk-like gaze but said nothing.
“Well, don’t just stand there. I made coffee. Something tells me this is going to be a long conversation.”
We filed into the familiar living room, where Mom was already waiting on the couch. She looked up from her knitting and did a double take.
“Sylvie? What—oh my.” Her eyes went wide as she took in Kenai, then Taimyr, then Aleksi. “Oh my.”
“Hi, Mom.”
She set down her knitting carefully. “So. This is what you’ve been doing instead of answering my texts.”
“It’s complicated—”
Mom looked Kenai up and down shamelessly. “I remember you. From the Christmas market. Guess you would chase down a man after all, huh, Sylvie?” She winked at me.
“Mom!”
“I’m afraid it was the other way around, Mrs. Hartwell,” Kenai countered, his ears slightly pink. “Once I saw your daughter, I would’ve run to the ends of the earth just for her to glance my way.”
I felt my face burning. “Kenai!”
“Oh, I like him.” Mom beamed. “Who’s who? I want to keep track.”
“The white-haired one with the heart eyes is Kenai,” Grandma Rose noted, settling into her armchair with the air of someone preparing for excellent entertainment. “The dark one with the smirk is?”
“Taimyr, ma’am.” He gave a little wave.
“And the big, handsome one trying to disappear into my wallpaper?” Grandma asked, with way too much interest in her gaze.
“Aleksi.” He was bright red behind his beard.
“And I assume the three of you are going to explain why a fae parading as a friendly old grandma has taken up residence in our town?”
The room went very quiet.
“You knew?” I asked.
“Of course I knew. You forget, Sylvie, I grew up in Ireland. We used to put milk and bread out for our fae folk. I hadn’t seen one since then, but I knew her the moment I saw her.
That woman’s been far too interested in our family for years—always asking about you.
Your career, your cases, whether you were seeing anyone.
” She sniffed. “And you wondered why I never liked her.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you young people never believe what’s right in front of your faces. Besides, I’m eighty-two and retired, dear. Whatever magical nonsense she was planning wasn’t my problem.” Grandma Rose looked at me over her reading glasses. “Until it became your problem.”
Mom was looking between us, confused. “Wait, Mrs. Patterson is what now?”
“A fae. Member of the fair folk. Please try to keep up, dear.” My grandma sighed. “And she did something to you.” She eyed the men up and down in a much less friendly way. “Something that caught this one’s attention.”
My mates shifted behind me uncomfortably. “Mrs. Hartwell—” Kenai started.
“That’s Ms. Hartwell, Esquire, to you, young man. And while my Sylvie is a grown woman who can make her own choices, you are in my house, and if I find any of you—”
“Grandma, it’s not like that.” I put myself between her and the men, as if I needed to protect these three enormous reindeer shifters from an octogenarian. I probably did.
“Then what is it like, sweetheart?”
“Sylvie, if I may.” Kenai set his hand on my shoulder, and I nodded. Snowflakes began to swirl in the air, and I knew he was removing the glamour on himself and the others. My mother let out a loud gasp, but Grandma just crossed her arms.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“Tough crowd,” Taimyr said with a laugh, his long, silky hair still fluttering in the magical snowstorm.
“The toughest,” I agreed, watching my grandmother’s expression remain completely unmoved by the display of actual magic happening in her living room. “Grandma argued before the Supreme Court twice. A little sparkly snow isn’t going to intimidate her.”
“Three times,” Grandma corrected. “And I won them all. Now, are you boys going to explain why you’ve dragged my granddaughter into what I can only assume is some sort of magical legal situation, or do I need to start billing you for my time? My hourly rate is astronomical.”
Mom, who’d been staring open-mouthed at the antlers, finally found her voice. “They have…they’re…Sylvie, why do they have those growing out of their heads?”
“Those are antlers, Mom.”
“I can see that! Why do they have antlers?”
“Because they’re reindeer shifters who work for Santa Claus and need legal representation to unionize against exploitative labor practices,” I explained in one breath, then immediately regretted it as both women turned to stare at me.
“Santa Claus,” Mom repeated flatly. “The Santa Claus.”
“Actually, he’s more of an ancient magical entity,” Aleksi added matter-of-factly. When everyone turned to look at him, he shifted uncomfortably. “What? It’s true.”
Grandma Rose leaned back in her chair, a slow smile spreading across her face—the kind I recognized from every courtroom story she’d ever told. “So, you need my granddaughter’s help for your…employment negotiations with an old god?”
The men exchanged glances. “Yes…” Kenai answered hesitantly.
“And I’m assuming your interest in her isn’t entirely professional, given the way you’re hovering around her like she might evaporate.”
“Yes, they’re all my…mates.”
“Mates?” Mom asked. “Like friends?”
“No, Mom, not like friends.”
“I’m just trying to understand! My daughter left for Christmas and came back with three…three reindeer boyfriends who want to sue Santa?”
She kept looking at me, and for the first time in years, I had no idea what she was thinking—and it made me nervous.
“Oh honey,” Mom tutted finally. “After what we ladies have been through, don’t we deserve a little treat? Or three?”
“MOTHER!”
“What? I’m just saying, if magic’s real and Santa’s real and you get three gorgeous men out of the deal, that seems like a win to me.”
Grandma Rose made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “I assume you’re not here just to introduce us to your harem.”
“They’re not my—”
“Technically, we are—” Taimyr offered helpfully.
“You need legal help,” Grandma Rose cut in. “Obviously. The question is what kind?”
I took a deep breath and launched into the explanation: the North Pole’s labor practices, the years of failed organizing attempts. Grandma Rose listened with the same intense focus she’d always had, occasionally asking sharp questions that cut right to the heart of the issue.
“And you need this done by Christmas?” she asked.
“Christmas Eve. That’s when the final negotiations are scheduled.”
“That’s two days away, Sylvie.”
“I know.”
She looked at me for a long moment, and I saw something shift in her expression—pride, and that fire I’d always admired so much.
“You sound just like me,” she murmured. “Then let’s not waste time.”
“You’ll help?”
“Of course I’ll help.” Grandma Rose stood, suddenly looking ten years younger. “I never liked Mrs. Patterson anyway. Time to show that busybody whose town this is.”
She straightened, all five feet two inches of her radiating authority. “Well then. I suppose I’m coming out of retirement. Grace, dear, call Aunt Patricia. Tell her we’re going to need her tax expertise for the wage theft claims.”
“Wage theft?” I asked.
“Oh yes. If these boys have been working under violated contracts, they’re owed back pay with interest. Centuries of it, I imagine.” Grandma’s smile turned predatory. “We’re going to take Santa for everything he’s worth. Now, who wants coffee? This is going to be a very long night.”
“I’m coming too.” Mom hopped up.
Kenai chuckled. “Good thing there are three of us.”