by Dani Wyatt
Only, I had different plans. And when I got here, settled into the nice, pre-paid penthouse my mother set up for me, I put those plans into place, knowing I’d be spending December right here in the Mecca of Christmas cheer: New York City and the Knight & Knight flagship department store.
At the top of the stairs, I pause at the metal door that separates the magical Christmas Village from the sterile, concrete backrooms of the massive store. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath and smell the evergreen scent the store pipes into the village. I smooth my hands down the green and red plaid skirt, rise on the tip toes of my elf shoes—complete with curved upward toes and bell to match my hat—and my mind stills.
When I enter every day, I feel like an Olympic athlete at the starting line of the final race. I visualize the wonder and joy of Christmas, then open the door and I’m in full character.
On the other side, I’m enveloped in the magic of Christmas. Knight & Knight’s Christmas Village takes up the entire top level of the store. It’s just over an acre of space, all twinkly lights, ‘Silent Night,’ and the sound of a crackling fire—although it’s fake for safety’s sake because, you know, kids and all—overtakes your senses as you enter through the Candy Cane lane and are ushered by yours truly into Christmas paradise.
People wait all year for Knight & Knight to open up the Village on December 1st. Unfortunately, I was unable to arrive for the opening day, and I count myself lucky to have been able to secure one of the prestigious elf positions so late in the season. It’s already December 15th and I’ve been working here just over a week, but from all outward appearances, and my supervisors all agree, you would think I’ve been doing this job my entire life.
Because.
As I said.
I was born for this.
The Christmas carols playing on the speakers from the grand piano at the back of the village greet me as I make my way through to check in and take my position in the queue, ready to escort the next lucky family on the adventure of a lifetime.
With each step my toes jingle wonderfully, and I pause for just one last moment to tug up on my red-and-white-striped tights. They never seem to completely stay up. Sagging down, and it’s a bit of a battle during my entire shift to inconspicuously shift and pull them up so they are not drooping down to mid-thigh.
My elf costume was the largest size the store had left by the time I took the job, and even though for most it would probably be too big, I constantly have to suck in my tummy to get the zipper to make the tight trek upward to keep me inside.
“Hey, Penny.”
As I round the corner of the first of the Village’s many gingerbread houses, heading into the main village area where families are patiently waiting for their personal elf escort, I run smack into David Lippencot.
Ugh.
“Hi, David.” I lower my eyes and sidestep to make my way past him without further conversation. We are close enough to the waiting families that I can feel their eyes on me. I look into the crowd at the anxious eyes full of wonder and take note of a dark-haired man staring right at me.
My stomach flips. It’s not just a glance, he’s looking at me. No, right into me. And for a moment, I fantasize that it’s because I’m just so stunning that he can’t take his eyes off me. Then, a boy about ten years old squeezes out from behind the man with an impatient look on his face, and reality descends. He’s been standing in line probably an hour by now, and at this point any elf looks good.
But, dang, he’s not just any other father. He’s gorgeous. Eyes the color of dark chocolate burn into me. He stands above any of the other people in the crowd, his dark hair close-cropped but easy, slight waves tucked behind his ears. For a moment I’m struck dumb by the square of his jaw, realizing that the whole shape reminds me of a younger Sean Connery—my father’s favorite actor in the whole world.
“You look...” David’s voice startles me out of my wonderland. His voice trails off but it’s not hesitant, there’s no suggestion that he’s nervous. No, it’s more that he’s impatient for me to turn back. And when I do, his smile grows.
It’s not the kind of smile that makes you smile back. Instead, it makes me swallow hard and pinch my lips together as he matches my sidestep and blocks my forward motion. The thump of my heart, which moments ago quickened from excitement, now becomes slow and dark.
David runs a hand across my shoulders and I shrug away, glancing up to see him biting his lower lip before he speaks. “You look...decent. How about I take you to my place for a drink after your shift? I’m not going to keep asking. Three strikes and you’re out. This is strike two. Not every day you get asked out, is it?”
I want to smack him right in his stupid face, but I’m just not that girl. I’m nice. A little weak, yes, I admit that. And his insults—which to a more secure girl my age would run off like water on a duck’s back—stick me right in my extra-large size elf costume.
“I...can’t.” I lie, unable to just tell him to stick a candy cane up his butt. “My mom and dad are coming into town.” My stomach clenches and I shift from one foot to the other. “Sorry... They’ll be at my place after I get off.”
He chuckles as I inch my way forward, trying to end whatever this is. “You get off much, do you?” His condescending tone only runs more heat into my cheeks as I realize he’s twisting my words into something I didn’t mean.
“No.” I fluster, looking up to see the man in the crowd still staring at me. Only this time, he’s stepped forward. He’s being held back by the red velvet rope, which is just as well because the look in his eyes has turned to something angry.
“Suit yourself.” David shrugs, not taking his eyes from mine. “But, you and I could have some fun, Penny. Grown-up fun.”
“Excuse me.” Pushing past him, I hear his low chuckle, my face feeling as red as Santa’s suit.
He grabs a tangle of my hair as I go by, adding, “You’ll be back.”
Staring straight ahead, knowing that he’s watching my ass as I leave, humiliation pours over me as I finally sign in and wait for my next family.
C H A P T E R T H R E E
Malcolm
WE ARE NEARLY TO THE front of the line, and my blood is boiling.
It’s not because I’ve had to wait like everyone else. I’m not used to it, but it’s fine.
It’s because I’ve seen her. And then, I saw that other fucking worker touch her. Heard some of what he said to her, too. Saw the discomfort in her eyes. The sadness flit over her face.
My vision tunnels, focused on her. My breath huffs through my nostrils like a bull about to charge. When he moves back toward her, a hand raised as though to touch her again, I can’t stop myself.
“Hey!” I squeeze out from behind the velvet rope, intercepting his extended arm with the grip of my fingers.
Incognito. I must stay incognito.
The man-elf spins around to look at me and reluctantly I drop his arm, but my eyes tell him what I’d like my fists to say.
Forcing the rage down somewhere deep, I lower my voice and bend close to his ear. “I heard what you said to her.” I look down to see his nametag. “David.” I tap it with my index finger for effect. “I suggest you knock that shit off and don’t come near her again. Don’t think that’s the kind of behavior they want here in Christmas Wonderland now, is it?”
David squints one eye, trying to figure out his next move while my curvy angel steps back, wide-eyed and unsure of what’s happening.
“No,” David finally responds, his eyes darting around to see if anyone else is aware of the unfolding unpleasantness.
“Good,” I answer, and our eyes lock for a moment. The tightness in my body betrays that I’m still ready to throw a punch. All I need is one excuse. I see in David’s eyes that he’s backing away, mentally if not physically. “What’s your last name, David?”
“Lippencott,” he mutters as I nod.
My nephew Randall’s voice breaks the tension. “We’re up!”
&n
bsp; David turns to see Randall standing just behind me. My eyes are glued to him.
“They said it’s our turn, we get Elf Penny.”
That’s all it takes to break the spell. At Randall’s words, I look over and finally set my eyes on her nametag. Her mouth curves into an unsure smile and I summon all my strength, still baffled by the effect this young woman is having on me. My heart pounds, blood flows into my already half-hard dick and I think of how inappropriate it is to walk through Santa’s Village with a boner for your elf escort.
Her cheeks rise with red, but it only makes her more beautiful to me.
“Hi.” She leans down and focuses on Randall. “I’m Elf Penny and I’m going to take you through the Christmas Village today.”
With that, Penny is in full character, focusing on Randall as she should, and I follow along behind, spellbound as I listen to her chatter on with him about being on the nice list, pointing out all the novelties and special items of note as we walk.
When we get to the sleigh ride—a little train that traverses the entire village—Penny asks Randall, “Would you like to take the sleigh ride with the other kids, or would you like me to ride with you?”
Randall looks over as a group of kids board the train, sans parents and elves. “I’ll go on my own.”
“Great,” Penny replies. “I’ll be right here waiting, then we will go see Santa.” She turns back to Randall. “Do you want your dad to come with you?”
Randall looks up at me and crinkles his nose like I’m a bad smell. “That’s not my dad.”
With that, he’s off, stepping forward and finding a seat on the train with the other excited kids.
Penny and I are left on our own as he pulls away, and for the first time since I asked Margaret Davenport to the winter formal in seventh grade, there is a knot in my throat. The familiar sensation rattles me again. Fuck, I’m really not sure what this sweet Christmas cherub has shaken loose in me, but I know I have to keep it under control.
“So.” She taps her foot, then I look down to see her toes point together.
A smile edges my lips upward even as I fight it at every turn. “So,” I mirror, then continue even as my brain is screaming at me to stay cool and go find a quiet corner somewhere to wait for Randall to return. “I’m the uncle, by the way. You seem to enjoy your work. This place sure is something, isn’t it?”
Sure is something? When the hell did I become a bashful 1950s teenager?
Penny’s eyes light up as I step back from the train tracks as the little ride pulls away. Behind us sits a grove of pines, lit with green and red blinking lights. The forest is interspersed with café tables where other parents and adults wait for the return of the train.
Her features remind me of pure joy as she walks beside me to an empty table. I can feel the energy bursting out of her like a crackle of electricity. When I pull out a chair for her to sit down, she stuffs her hands under her thighs and looks up at me with wide, bright eyes as I settle into the opposite seat, shifting to try to hide the length growing under my jeans.
“OMG, this place is heaven. I love this job. Christmas is what I live for.” The excitement in her voice is barely contained. “You want to know something?” She looks around to make sure no one else is close.
“Yes. I do want to know something.” My words come out playful, and the effect she has on me has me wondering if they are piping some sort of drug into the air up here.
“I really shouldn’t tell you this.” She bites down onto her bottom lip and my lust swells at the sight. “But, this morning, at our all-hands-elf-meeting, all the elves and staff were there. There was a rumor they were going to close the village down next year.”
Frost tickles at my fingertips. The way her lips involuntarily pull downward tugs at my heart.
“And?” I prod, wondering where this is going and knowing I may be the source of that hint of sadness in her eyes. I hate that I’m the cause, and I think that amazes me more than anything. I’ve never felt guilt over a business decision before. Fear at what she is going to say next wraps around my throat.
“And.” Her shoulders square, she sits up, her eyes directly connected to mine. “Most of the workers got so mad. They were going to all walk out! Just quit.” She tries to snap her fingers, but they make no sound. Unperturbed, she goes on, “Just like that. Leave all the kids disappointed because they could never keep this place open with the few of us that would be left.”
“Wow.” I nod. “That would have been bad.” I clear my throat and breathe deep, because her scent of sugar and spice is branding itself into me one inhale at a time and I’m already addicted.
“Yes. So, so bad.” She nods back, clearly excited about whatever she’s about to say next. “So, when almost all the elves were about to walk out, I stood up and told them to stop. I yelled it, like that: ‘Stop!’ I told them to think about who they were hurting by leaving. Told them all that Christmas isn’t about the money. It’s about so much more. Christmas has turned into this monster of money and profit. And even the elves... all they were thinking about was their paychecks. I told them I would do this job for free. And I would. Besides that, I told them no way would they close this village. No. Way.”
“Huh,” I grunt, uneasy with the shame weighing down on my shoulders as she talks.
She flutters her hands between us, then finishes. “Anyway, as you can see. We are fully staffed with elves, so things worked out. But, geez, if that rumor is true...” She shakes her head, her black hair skirting just under her jaw line as the bell on top of her hat flops and jingles. “Whoever decided this place should be shut down is a real jerk.”
My heart skips a beat and I open my mouth to reply, then Penny winks at me and any thoughts I had disappear.
Her excited chirp has me wanting to give her anything and everything she could want, just to make sure she’s happy from now on. “The sleigh ride is back! Ready for the rest of the tour?”
From there, Penny retrieves Randall and we spend the next hour and a half wrapped in the wonder of the Christmas Village. And as inappropriate as it is, all I can think about is clearing everyone out of here, tearing that elf costume off, and finding out if her cunt tastes like sugar plums.
C H A P T E R F O U R
Penny
I’M UNSURE HOW I’M even forming words still. My cheeks haven’t cooled off since I saw him staring at me from behind the rope. Now, two and a half hours later, I’ve smiled so much my cheeks are numb and there is a constant tightness that started in my belly but now is undeniably centered smack between my legs.
And it’s making it very difficult to concentrate on what he’s saying.
And yet I can’t wait for his next words.
What is happening to me?
Malcolm pulls the chair out for me to sit as his nephew runs amuck in the open play space at the end of the Village tour.
When the tour is over, I usually politely bow away, eager to get my name back on the list for the next tour.
But, when I tried to bid farewell to Malcolm and Randall, Malcolm just stared at me as though I’d delivered him the worst news ever. He then proceeded to tell Randall to go play, and pointed me here to a table without another word.
“So,” he starts, then hesitates. After all, there can’t be much left to say—he’s been asking me questions during the entire tour. About myself, my family, this job. He’s shown more interest in me in the time we’ve been together than anyone, ever, other than my father. “Tell me more about your piano playing. You said you started playing when you were two? Can that be true?”
He lightly brushes his fingertips down my shoulder as I seat myself and he shifts to take his chair across from me. The little table is offset, so we are sitting facing each other, our knees only inches apart.
“Oh, it’s true. I think my father actually has a picture of me pulling myself up on the corner of our grand piano when I was just a year old. He said even as an infant, he would sit with me at the piano,
with me on his lap, and no matter how tired, cranky, or hungry I was, I would stop crying and put my fingers on the keys. Only, I never banged on them like you would expect. He said even then, when I was not even a year old, I would place a single finger on a key and press it down. One at a time. So, if you ask my dad, who is biased I’ll tell you, I was playing Bach by the time I was six months old.”
I shrug and can’t help smiling as I think of my dad and how he still beams when I walk into a room or while he’s telling stories about me. Every girl should have a father like mine. Even with the pain of watching his health decline in the last few years, he’s still my champion.
“But, didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to do this? What you are doing now?”
He smells like masculine gingerbread and I inhale deeply before considering his question fully. I’m still a bit in shock at how easily I’m talking with him. How easily I’m telling this near stranger things about me I couldn’t imagine sharing before today with most anyone.
Even as I resolve to hold back, to maintain my Professional Elf distance, his near-black eyes latch onto mine and don’t let go, and the words begin to tumble out of me.
“See,” I swallow hard, shift in the chair a bit. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I can play piano. I mean, you know, like I said I can play piano...but—” I falter, the battle continuing to wage inside my head as to why I’m spilling my guts to this man. “I can’t play in front of anyone. I mean, my mom and dad. A few other people here and there. But never, ever like on stage or in concert. I freeze. Completely blank out like I’ve never even seen a piano. It’s horrifying. For me, but especially for my mother.”
“You’ve never played in front of an audience?”
“Never.” I flatten my hands on my tights and rub up and down the tops of my legs as Malcolm watches me with a soft smile.