Holiday Spirit for Hire

by Isabelle Saint-Michael

  HOLIDAY SPIRIT FOR HIRE

  Otherworld Realms: Book Two

  Isabelle Saint-Michael

  Otherworld Romance, llc

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2014 by Isabelle Saint-Michael.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Otherworld Romance, llc

  www.otherworldromance.com

  www.elvenlife.com

  ISBN 978-0-9908665-3-4

  A special thanks to all of my little helpers

  And the warmest wishes to all of my readers

  Chapter One

  I stared out the window as the grey rain beat against the pavement outside. I had moved to Portland three years ago and hadn’t seen snow since. Then again, the Monday after Thanksgiving was always depressing. Everyone overspent on Black Friday sales or had to be up entirely too early to put in-laws on a plane to go home. Christmas in Portland was nothing like Christmas in Connecticut. Starting with the absence of white fluffy snow.

  “Grace!” I jumped as my name was snapped loudly, then winced as I slammed my knee into the desk while spinning around to face my boss. Bob towered over me even more than usual today. Everything about the man was big. He was six foot six and probably as big around. His voice was monstrous and echoed through the office even when he was trying to whisper.

  “Yes, Bob, what can I do for you, sir?” I asked in my most upbeat voice.

  “I paged you three times and you didn’t answer. I was beginning to wonder if you came to work today.” He had said hello to me when I entered the office an hour late this morning. He knew darn well I had come to work.

  “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just recovering from the weekend,” I told him.

  “Ah, well, we are having an office-wide meeting at three. Can you make sure everyone is in the conference room at that time?” he asked, his voice much softer.

  I had heard a dirty rumor around the water cooler that we weren’t getting holiday bonuses this year because of rough second and third quarters. I respected Bob for letting us know early so hopefully people could make arrangements to budget the holidays without it. I put together a mass email that we had a meeting at three and shot it out to all twenty members of staff.

  I absentmindedly poked through the reports looking for a missing piece of information I needed to complete the requested forms for a client. Every few clicks of a mouse I found myself turning to look at the rain. At ten till three my computer reminded me I had a meeting to attend. I grabbed a notepad and pen and headed down the hall.

  We all crammed into our tiny conference room meant for six people or less. At three o’clock Bob walked in with a stack of envelopes in his hand. A murmur went through the group as we eyed the stack. Something was off. Bob never gave bonuses until the week of Christmas and when he did, he was always happy. Last year he even dressed up as Santa and encouraged the office ladies to sit on his lap. No, Bob didn’t look like a jolly Santa prepared to hand out holiday cheer.

  Then it hit me. Before he even started talking my stomach was already in knots. “As all of you know, it’s been a really rough year here. Last week I was forced to sell the company to a buyer based in upstate New York. I have here your pay for the time you’ve worked through the end of this week. I’m really sorry, but I have to let you all go.” Big, loud Bob looked miserable. “Also, there are members of the new company here to help you clear out your belongings. I know none of you would do it, but please don’t take any of the company assets.”

  I waited in line with everyone to get my check. When everyone but me had received theirs Bob looked up at me. “Can you close the door?” he asked.

  Obeying, I shut the door and turned to face him. “Gracie, I know I moved you out here from the East Coast and it hasn’t been easy for you. Everyone else in the office is a native Pacific North-Westerner. I spoke with the new owner and let him know that you are from out that way. He said if you contact him after the first of the year he will see if he can find a place for you in the company out East.” He sighed heavily. “I know it’s not much, but I have included an airline voucher from cashing in some of my miles. It should be enough to get you home to see your family this Christmas, and maybe you can get a lead on something job-wise closer to home.”

  I was shocked. It was a sweet and thoughtful favor. “Thank you, I know you’ve had this business for a long time. What are you going to do now?”

  “Well, the wife and I talked it over. We have a nice nest egg and did alright in the buyout. I think I’m going to retire early and spend time with my girls and the grandkids.” He stood up and offered me his arms. I nodded and gave him a hug, barely reaching his chest. “And if you need a recommendation or anything you just have them call or email me, alright?”

  “Thanks, Bob. Tell Linda and the girls Merry Christmas for me.” I turned and left the conference room. When I got back to my desk I found a short man in a black suit carefully putting my personal belongings into a file box.

  “Is this lamp your personal lamp or does it belong to the office?” he asked. His voice was surprisingly deep for his size.

  “It’s mine,” I said. I watched him with interest as he wrapped bubble wrap around it and placed it in the box.

  “Please come take one last look through the desk for any other personal belongings I might have missed. Then I can escort you to your car, Ms. MacGregor.” Hearing him call me by my last name surprised me. Everyone called me Grace or Gracie.

  I poked through the desk, finding a photo of me in Scotland visiting my cousins and a package of pop tarts. With a shrug I put them both in the box and pulled on my coat. He picked up the box and walked with me out the door and to my car. I unlocked the trunk and he was nice enough to load the box for me. “Thank you…?” I looked for a nametag but couldn’t find one.

  “Darren, my name is Darren. You’re welcome Ms. MacGregor. I’m sorry this had to happen so close to the holidays.” His voice was surprisingly warm for having such a deep rumble.

  “Not your fault. Thanks for the help with the box. Happy Holidays, Darren.” With a click of the lock I opened the door and got in. He stood in the rain and watched me leave. He probably had to account for each employee leaving the premises.

  I flipped on the radio but every station was playing carols. Finally giving up, I just left it tuned to some jazz version of Jingle bells and focused on the drive home. Even though it rains in Portland three hundred and sixty two days out of the year, every driver was acting like it was the first time they had driven in the rain. Ten miles felt like an eternity when I finally pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex.

  I looked around at the drab grey buildings that matched the weather and stomped through the puddles to my front door. Grey gloom was a very normal look for this time of year, but it was definitely one if those depressing kind of days that made it feel like the storm cloud was on a personal mission to haunt you. I grabbed the paper off the covered stoop, unlocked the door and stepped inside. The first thing I saw was my pile of Christmas decorations that I now had no interest in putting up.

  I changed into pajamas, flipped the TV on and grabbed my take-out containers from the prior night’s dinner. I needed to call my folks. Dad would know what to do. He’d been through this at least three dozen times over the centuries. Since my father and mother bonded ninety-one years ago they’ve
had to move a lot so people wouldn’t notice they never really aged. I always wondered why they didn’t go back to Scotland to be closer to his family where they wouldn’t need to move so often.

  Picking up the phone I hit pound four and listened as the phone rang. “Hello? Gracie? You’re calling early. Was everyone recovering from the weekend?” Mom’s voice always sounded cheerful.

  “No, not exactly. The company was sold last week. We all came in today to find out we were being laid off. Is Dad there?” My mom was silent on the other end of the phone.

  There was a rustling noise followed by the sounds of shuffling paper. “Dad’s not here right now but Mom went to get her credit card. What’s going on?” My brother Michael’s voice was mellow and relaxed.

  “I was laid off. Why is Mom getting her credit card?” I had a sneaky feeling that if I didn’t put my foot down my mother would be here before the week was over.

  “She’s booking a flight I think.” He seemed amused by the whole ordeal.

  “Stop her, Michael!” I heard soft arguing in the background then a load crack followed by Michael howling. Mom must have the wooden spoon on hand.

  There was more rustling on the phone. “Dear, your brother is under the impression you don’t want me to come.” I rolled my eyes, realizing this was going to be a delicate operation.

  “Mom, don’t worry about it. I have enough airline miles to come see you for Christmas this year. I’m going to have a good cry, eat some cookie dough, then start looking for a new job first thing in the morning. Don’t worry about me. Besides, I’m sure you have plenty to do for the holidays already.” I heard her sniffle a bit.

  She cleared her throat. “Well if that’s how you feel… I understand. I guess you don’t need me anymore.” I cringed. Her tone told me everything I needed to know. She was upset. If she was upset, Dad would be upset when he found out. Ugh.

  “Mom, I promise to call in the morning. I love you.” She started to say something else but instead opted to return the normal exchange and part ways. I powered the phone off and sat it on the coffee table.

  The TV flashed back to the Holiday special about a little girl finding a new husband for her mother for Christmas. I almost gagged at the sickeningly sweet story. Nothing like this happened. People don’t just fall in love and get married all between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I flipped the TV off and put the leftovers back in the fridge before grabbing a tube of cookie dough and gnawing off a bite. I considered the tube carefully, then put it away and decided bed and resume work was a more productive option.

  I settled into bed with my favorite boyfriend, my laptop. Before long I had updated my resume, applied for a half dozen jobs, checked flights home, and Facebooked with all of my friends to see if anyone had any leads. I was about to shut down when the pop from my email caught my attention.

  I closed the other tabs and stared at my inbox. It was from the OAC. The Otherworld Alignment Council was a group of magical beings, things that go bump in the night, and people that made sure that there were universal laws and regulations used across all the realms. They made sure there was a common language, rules about magic, and laws that kept peace between the different races. Why they were emailing me I didn’t know.

  To: Grace MacGregor

  From: OAC

  Subject: The North Pole Needs You

  Dear Ms. MacGregor,

  It has been brought to the attention of the OAC that you are no longer employed during this busy time of the year. Every Holiday season we rely on the help we get from the Otherworld community to make the season bright. Your talents could be used now through the end of the year helping deliver joyful winter holidays across all the realms.

  Please see the attached application. Applicants will be considered for a paid position. Please send a resume, two letters of recommendation and magical aptitude test scores to the email listed below. If chosen we will need you to report immediately for work.

  Thank you and Happy Holidays,

  Otherworld Alignment Council

  I looked at the email again and shrugged. “Why not?” I asked myself. I attached my resume, two recommendation letters and a quick note explaining my father was a Scottish Werewolf Clansman and that I was half human. I figured my lack of magical abilities would keep me out of the fray. My father told me to always answer the OAC right when they contacted you because they made the IRS look patient.

  With a giggle to myself I closed the windows on my laptop and shut it down. Snuggling deep into my pillows I closed my eyes, giggling about what use I could possibly be to the Great Holiday Front up North. Strangely enough I fell asleep with thoughts of sugar plums dancing in my head

  Chapter Two

  I awoke the next morning to the sounds of clinking, clicking and power tools. I opened my eyes involuntarily when a particularly loud noise sounded right over my head. It was then I noticed my bedroom was swarming with Gnomes and they seemed too busy to care I was sleeping.

  “Excuse me!” I yelled. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

  A few of them stopped, exchanged looks with shrugs, and returned to work. I wasn’t answered until a man with a heavy red braid down his back appeared.

  “You are in their workshop, and it’s about time you got up.” I climbed out of bed angrily, prepared to demand that they leave. “Nice pajamas,” he said with a grin as he looked me over. “If you follow me we will get you assigned duties, uniforms and the rest of your paperwork filled out.”

  I looked around what should have been my room. I was on a toy factory floor. Only it looked like FAO Schwarz met Ikea. Bright colors with industrial-grade shelves mixed with the old world charm of hand-carved wooden trim. All around me Gnomes were hustling to complete toys. I looked in the direction the redheaded man had gone and chased after him, abandoning my bed to the factory.

  I ran down the hall, ignoring curious glances from the people I passed. I crashed into him as he stopped in front of a door marked “Fae and Darkling Resources”. I started to tumble to the floor but a well-placed arm around my waist spun me around and sat me back on my feet. “Whoa there, I’m sure you’re excited to get started, but let’s avoid workplace mishaps, shall we?”

  I followed him into a small office that housed a single desk. He motioned for me to have a seat. The office was rather bland - white walls with a simple wooden desk. A sleek laptop, a single Christmas card, and a coffee mug reading “Dwarves do it better” were the only personal items in the office. “I’m sorry, where am I and how did I get here?” I asked, staring at the coffee mug.

  “You applied to work on the Holiday Front this year. When your hiring was approved you were brought here to begin work immediately. We were VERY surprised to find you sleeping your first day on the job but it’s your first time so we’ll let it slide.” He smiled warmly. His eyes sparkled like green emeralds set against a velvety background. A single dimple lit up his face.

  “We?” I asked, shaking my head to clear it.

  “Yes, North Pole Operations.” He read my confusion. “You applied last night through the OAC for a position for the Holiday Season. I approved your hire this morning at three AM. You were then brought here.” He took a long sip from his coffee cup.

  “You hired me at three AM and expected me to be ready?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What about an interview? What about a job offer?” I really didn’t fancy waking up in a toy factory.

  “Yeah, I don’t have much experience with Halflings. Most of the ones I have had the pleasure of meeting are split magical beings, not half human. I was a little surprised, but you have an excellent referral, went to a top University, and had a solid work history so I figured why not give you a shot.” He sat the cup down and typed something into the laptop.

  “I’m sorry for staring but I thought Dwarves were shorter, with beards, and dressed like Celts or Vikings?” The words just sort of slipped out.

  He chuckled. It was a rich sort of sound that made me think of chocolate truffles a
nd thick sweaters. “I guess if you have only lived in the Human realm all your life, Lord of the Rings would do that to you. I may decide to grow a beard in another few centuries, but it won’t be anytime soon. My uncle doesn’t even wear a beard anymore and he’s the current Santa.” He smiled again. “As for short, I’m short when compared to an Elf or even a modern Human but five seven hardly seems abnormally small. Just… well, short,” he said with a shrug.

  I shook my head trying to take it all in. “I’m sorry, I’m Gracie MacGregor…”

  He cut me off. “No, I’m sorry. I’m Justin Kringle.” He held out his hand to shake mine. Without hesitation I accepted his but wasn’t quite prepared for the heavy shake I got. “Oh, sorry about that. Don’t always remember my own strength.”

  “So I’m at the North Pole, in my pajamas, and you’re the nephew of Santa?” I just wanted to make sure I was getting this entire delusion right.

  “Yup,” he answered, sliding a pile of papers and a pen across the desk. “And if you could just get started filling these out I would really appreciate it.”

  I looked down at the stack of papers. “What is my job going to be? How much am I going to be paid?”

  “Wow, you really are Human aren’t you?” He took the stack of paper back and highlighted a job title and salary, then slid it back to me. I tried not to gag when I saw the salary. It was more than double what I was earning a month working for Bob.

  “What exactly is a Holiday Spirit?” I inquired hesitantly.

  “Well, you will be assigned cases where the joy of the season is needed. Once you have a case it is your responsibility to make sure that optimal Holiday Enjoyment is achieved.” He held out the pen.

  “I go around making people happy?” It sounded too good to be true. “Like giving bikes to orphans and helping puppies find homes?”