Jingle Spells

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He got his answer when the front door opened and Belle blew into the coffee shop. She turned to him and gave a short wave before ordering her coffee. Nick got up from the table and waited for her at the counter where the barista would leave her drink when it was ready.

  There was something odd about Belle today. He picked up on it almost immediately. Her smile wasn’t as bright, her green eyes were wary. Perhaps the emergency was real and more serious than he thought. She seemed to be carrying a heavy burden on her shoulders.

  “Hey, Nick,” she said with a weak smile as she approached.

  “Decaf non-fat grande latte.” Her cup was passed across the counter to her. She slid it into the cardboard sleeve and popped a lid on the top.

  Decaf? Belle never ordered decaf. Something was definitely going on, but he didn’t want to ask her with so many other people around. “Are you ready to go?” he asked. They usually didn’t loiter long.

  She nodded, and he held the door for her to step outside. They walked quietly down the block, sipping their coffee. She wanted to tell him something. He could tell. Perhaps she was about to break it off.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, once they were clear of the street traffic and on the quiet road to his subdivision.

  “Wrong? No. But we do need to talk about something today. It’s kind of important.”

  Nick’s heart stopped. The breath was sucked from his chest in an instant as his brain pieced together the clues. Decaf coffee. Tired. Nervous mood. Important discussions. Belle never wanted to talk about anything.

  “Are you pregnant?” he choked.

  Belle’s eyes grew wide at his question. “Pregnant?” she repeated, her voice sharp with surprise. “Of course not. Why would you think something like that?”

  Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was as though he’d been jerked back from a cliff, and his whole life was about to change if he fell. She wasn’t pregnant. Great. He wasn’t opposed to children, but he wasn’t exactly in that place right now. Especially if it meant having them with a woman he really knew nothing about. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You were acting nervous, drinking decaf, wanting to talk…you never want to talk, Belle.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry I scared you. I am definitely not pregnant. I was up early, and I’ve already had one cup too much caffeine to deal with everything going on. My nerves are on edge. But I do have a uh…business proposition to discuss with you.”

  Business proposition? “Do you need a house built?”

  “Not exactly.” Belle paused at his doorstep, and he unlocked the door to go inside. “Let’s sit down.”

  For the first time, they didn’t head down the hallway to his bedroom, but turned right to the living room and kitchen. Belle sat down on his brown leather sofa and tucked one leg beneath her. Nick followed suit, sitting on the other end of the couch and turning to face her while he sipped his coffee.

  “So what’s going on, Belle?”

  “That emergency yesterday was kind of a big deal where I work,” she began.

  “How bad of an emergency can you have at an ornament factory? Someone lose a hand or something?”

  “No, but still very bad. We lost a very important member of our staff unexpectedly.” Belle reached into her coat and pulled out a small silver flask. She sat it on the coffee table.

  “Are we drinking? It’s a little early.”

  “No. That’s just my back-up plan.”

  Nick frowned. “Back-up plan?”

  “Nick, I need to tell you a secret. It’s a big secret that only a few people in the whole world know about. I have deliberately kept it from you for your own good, but I’ve been given no choice. I have to tell you the truth.”

  “You’re a spy?” he joked.

  “No, I’m a witch. And you are going to be the next Santa Claus.”

  Nick was glad he didn’t have a mouthful of coffee or he would’ve made a mess of Belle’s cream-colored blouse. He was on the verge of laughing at her joke when he realized her expression was deadly serious. “So, will the Easter Bunny be joining us later?”

  “No. Spring isn’t my territory,” she retorted without missing a beat. “We’re from the Winter clan. My family is responsible for Christmas. We use our magickal powers to make Santa and his reindeer fly, deliver toys around the world in a single night and spread holiday cheer.”

  Nick was beginning to think he liked Belle better when she didn’t say much. Now that she was talking, he was sad to realize she was batshit crazy. “Did you skip some important medication today?”

  Belle’s lips tightened into a firm line. “I have to show you, don’t I? You’re not going to believe it until you see it.”

  “See what, Belle? Are you going to use your magic wand to make me into Santa Claus?”

  “Something like that.” Belle stood up. Reaching inside her purse, she pulled out a long, thin piece of wood, like a conductor’s baton. She tapped it a few times against the palm of her hand, sending a few tiny, sparkling snowflakes out of the tip.

  “What the hell?” Nick stood up and took a step back.

  Belle flicked her wrist and pointed the wand to the bare corner of his living room. A surge of white, glittering light shot from it, and in an instant, there was a seven-foot Christmas tree in the corner. With another swipe, a silvery swirl wrapped around the pine branches, leaving lights and ornaments behind it until the tree was completely decorated.

  “Are you more of a star or angel kind of guy?”

  “What?” His heart was pounding too hard in his chest to grasp what she was asking him.

  “A star, I think.” A quick jab of her wand conjured a shining silver star on the top of the tree. When she was done, she slipped her wand back into her purse and calmly sat down on the couch.

  Nick swallowed hard and stepped backward from the tree and its conjurer until his back met with the brick of his fireplace. “What is going on?”

  Belle sighed and patted the couch beside her. “I’m sorry for the theatrics, but I need you to listen and believe what I’m telling you. We don’t have much time. Christmas is less than a week away.”

  Christmas. Witches. Santa. Magick. The words swirled in his mind as he tried to make sense of it.

  “Nick, please sit down. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m the same person you’ve seen every day of the last six months.”

  “Not exactly,” he sputtered.

  “Yes, exactly. We just didn’t talk much about ourselves.”

  “If we had, would you being a witch have come up?”

  “No. We can’t tell humans our secret. It’s for our protection as much as yours.”

  “But you’re telling me now.”

  “Only because I have no choice. You are the chosen. The next Pere Noel, Sinter Klaas or Babbo Natale. If you choose to accept this honor, you will be Father Christmas.”

  “And if I don’t accept your crazy offer?”

  The light faded from Belle’s green eyes. “If you decline, you need only take a sip from this flask. You will remember nothing about this offer or anything that you saw. It will be as though it never happened. It will also be as though we never happened. The next time you see me on the street, I will be just another stranger.”

  There was a sudden, restrictive tightness in Nick’s chest. He didn’t think he wanted to be Santa Claus, but he didn’t want to lose Belle, either. “Wait—can’t we just go back to yesterday like this conversation didn’t happen?”

  A small smile curled Belle’s lips. “No, I’m sorry. I assure you that I am as disappointed as you are by this development. There are only two choices. You come with me now to Evergreen Industries and become the next Santa Claus, or you drink from the flask, and you and I are done.”

  Nick eyed the flask and slow
ly eased back down onto the couch. “What’s in that thing?”

  “Cocoa.”

  He arched a dark brow at her. “Just cocoa?”

  “It’s a special batch.”

  Nick sank back into the cushions. “If I turn down the job, what happens on Christmas Eve?” Part of him couldn’t believe the words coming from his own mouth. Santa wasn’t real. Flying reindeer didn’t exist. His parents bought all his presents. He remembered the crushing disappointment when his father told him the truth. The magick of Christmas had died for him in that moment, leaving only a hollow, commercial shell behind. And yet there was enough of a spark in his mind to wonder what would happen if what Belle said was true.

  “I’m not sure. We’ve never had this happen before. I’ll go back and see if a new Santa can be chosen in time. If not…” A shimmer of tears formed in her emerald eyes. “…I failed. And for the first time in hundreds of years, there will be no Christmas.”

  Nick wanted to reach out to her and comfort her. Belle had always been so even-keeled. She came off as a no-nonsense businesswoman with her sharp suits and slicked-back hair. This was the first time he’d noticed a crack in her emotional veneer. “What happened to the previous Santa Claus? Is he…uh…” He hesitated to ask a teary woman if Santa was dead.

  “He’s fine,” she said with an irritated tone lacing her words. “Kris disappeared in the night, leaving us high and dry with days left until Christmas. We’ve looked everywhere for him, but we haven’t had any luck yet.”

  Santa went AWOL? This job might not be as merry as it seemed. “Will you excuse me a moment?”

  Belle turned to him with concern, but nodded. She probably thought he was about to sneak out the back door but was polite enough not to follow him, anyway. “Of course.”

  Nick brushed past her and slipped into the guest bathroom. Hovering over the sink, he splashed cold water on his face. He braced his arms on the porcelain edge and looked at himself in the mirror.

  Was it possible that Santa Claus was real? Disappointment and disillusionment had hardened him to the season. It was supposed to be about love and family, giving and sharing. Instead, it had become about Black Friday sales and the latest, impossible-to-find toy. People would spend the whole month gorging on cookies and candy and turkey, while tossing a token can of expired peas into the food drive bins at work.

  That’s why Nick had mentally checked out. If he just pretended Christmas never happened, he wouldn’t have to face the reality of what it had become.

  But maybe he was wrong. Maybe there still was some magick left in the season. If there was any chance that he could have back the holiday of his childhood, he would take it. But even with wands and elves, was it even a possibility? Was his own heart too hardened to embrace Christmas again?

  His own dark eyes reflected to him, a faint shimmer of tears blurring his vision. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for him or for others like him.

  He snatched the towel from the nearby rod and dried his face before going back into the living room. Belle was still sitting patiently on the couch when he returned.

  She stood up and turned to face him when she saw him walk back into the room. Belle had such a fragile beauty about her. There was something about the golden waves of her hair, large jewel-tone eyes and creamy, blush cheeks that reminded him of a china doll. He’d thought at first he might break her, especially considering he was a foot taller and at least eighty pounds heavier. But Belle had a spine of steel and enough ambition for two or three people. He loved the contradiction of her.

  For the last six months, she had been the highlight of his day. Even before he laid a hand on her, he’d timed his breaks so he would see her at the coffee shop. She was always so businesslike and proper. He had wanted to see her wild and free. And he had, many times. She was never as beautiful as when she came undone in his arms. But Belle had never let him see all of her. She held so much back.

  He never expected her secrets to be so earth-shattering. And yet, once the panic subsided, the truth had suited her so perfectly. This was the puzzle piece he was missing. The mysterious details of Belle’s life that he’d craved all this time. And he’d only gotten a tiny taste of the true woman. He wasn’t ready to drink the cocoa and let her go just yet.

  “Do I have to decide right now?”

  She shook her head. “We still have some time. I can take you to the Evergreen offices first. I’ll introduce you to the clan and show you around. It will give you a better idea of what you’re signing up for. It isn’t all like the children’s books, but it’s still quite magnificent. Then you can decide.”

  Nick could deal with that. If things got too weird, he could always drink the cocoa, walk out and go back to being his old, cynical self. “Let’s go, then.” He grabbed his coat and keys off the kitchen counter. “Do you want me to drive? I don’t even know if you have a car.”

  Belle smiled brightly for the first time today, and it made his heart feel lighter to see her happy again. “We don’t need a car.”

  Nick frowned. “It’s a long walk. What are we going to take? A broom?”

  Belle chuckled. “Only the Autumn Clan rides brooms. We’re going to apparate. It’s faster and one of the only ways to get inside the building with our extensive security system.” She reached out and took his hand.

  Nick wasn’t sure he even knew what apparate meant.

  “You don’t get motion sickness, do you?” she asked.

  “What?” Nick said, turning to her with concern.

  And then they were gone.

  Sixty-Three Hours until Takeoff

  Belle looked at her cell phone and frowned. She’d just received a text from Holly. Apparently, she and Ginger had a bit of an issue at the Mexican border and had missed their chance to intercept the Corvette. Since neither of the girls had ever set foot out of Colorado, they were unable to envision the location in their mind. And witches and wizards could only apparate to locations they had been before.

  Awesome. The longer they waited, the farther Kris and Merry traveled without them.

  Things weren’t much better at Evergreen Industries.

  Cole stuck his head into Belle’s office, the stress of the last few days visibly lining his face. “Has he signed yet?”

  “No, he hasn’t signed yet,” she snapped. He’d asked her this question at least ten times since Nick came. “We’ve started the orientation process to get ahead of the game, but Nick hasn’t signed the contract or tried on the suit.”

  Cole rolled his eyes and bashed his forehead forcefully against the door frame. “Remind me why I was chosen to be the CEO?”

  “Because you’re the oldest Evergreen and the most responsible of the four of us.”

  “And you’re the baby,” he noted, “and everyone does what you want. So get out of this office, find Nick and do whatever it takes to convince him to take this job. Today.”

  Belle watched Cole disappear down the hallway in a huff. Usually, Cole was a lot more easygoing. If any of the Evergreens were going to send wizards and witches fleeing from the sight of them, it was usually Belle. She was tiny, at five-foot and an angel’s hair tall, but feisty enough that her size didn’t matter. She could intimidate the smallest elves and tallest wizards alike.

  She didn’t like to think of herself as intimidating. That’s not what she wanted to be. She kept the employees of Evergreen Industries happy, but productive. Christmas was no small undertaking. There were procedures to be followed, checklists to tick off and policies to uphold. If that made her come off as strict, she’d live with that for the sake of the children. She didn’t have time to waste on silliness.

  And she didn’t have time to waste on Nick, either. When she said he didn’t have to decide right away, she thought a tour and a couple of hours would do the trick. It had been two days and so far, n
othing. It was a big decision, but it was now or never.

  Belle grabbed her tablet and headed out in search of Nick. He’d spent the morning touring the underground toy and ornament production floors with Ethan. The security system showed his last badge swipe was the cafeteria. They’d gotten him a temporary card to move around the facility and get comfortable. It had proven to be a useful tool in keeping track of him, as well.

  She summoned an elevator and headed to the cafeteria to find him. As she entered the large dining hall, she stopped short. It was lunchtime, and the room was quite full, but it took only a moment to locate Nick. The six-foot-two construction manager was seated in a green plastic chair more suited to an elf. His knees protruded over the top of the table, so he had to lean in between them to reach his tray of food. It looked miserably uncomfortable. Belle could hardly stand to sit in those chairs, and she was one of the tiniest witches in the building. Despite all of that, he was smiling and chatting animatedly with the crowded table of elves around him.

  Belle couldn’t help but smile. Despite her reservations, the snow globe knew better. Perhaps Nick would fit in here just fine. Now it was only her selfishness motivating her reluctance for him to become Santa.

  Honestly, she didn’t know why she cared. Whether he became Santa or not, Belle had lost her morning coffee breaks. If he left, he wouldn’t remember her. And if he stayed, things between them would be…complicated to say the least. She certainly couldn’t continue her affair with him as Santa. That was just wrong on so many levels. And she had no intention of being the next Mrs. Claus, either. She couldn’t bake or knit, and the idea of doing either bored her to tears.

  Her only real choice would be to sit back and watch as another woman took her place. Maybe a human, maybe a witch. Their Santas usually came married, so it wasn’t an issue they had dealt with in her memory. It was miserably selfish, but Belle knew she would rather Nick leave and Christmas be ruined than to watch him with another woman for the next forty years. She didn’t realize she had such a jealous streak, but it seemed to run deep where Nick was concerned.