Page 3 of Naughty Elf: Merry
And as grand as that was, stepping inside was a thousand times better. It looked like Christmas had thrown up inside. The owner was either a mega Christmas fan or they’d acquired someone’s collection because the place was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling Christmas.
The aisles were flooded with vintage Santa displays, mice dressed like elves, light-up candy canes, and all sorts of Christmas trees. There were dolls with fancy Christmas dresses, old greeting cards, dishes—everything and anything you might think of when it came to decorating for Christmas. They even had a display of cookbooks that were Christmas specific. If I couldn’t find some inspiration here, there was none to be had and my dragon and I should give up shop and build a home in the mountains where we could live off the land or something equally unhelpful.
I took out my phone, and any time I saw something that inspired me, I took a picture. There was a time when I’d try and remember it all or spend far more money than I needed to to take it all home. The pictures weren’t as helpful as the real deal, but they were cost effective and worked a thousand times better than my memory.
That didn’t mean I left empty-handed. I found a few items I thought had decent illustrations for later and wouldn’t be as effective on screen. One was a can of peanut butter from years gone by that had the most adorable Santa on it. I wasn’t sure why I had to have it, but I did. So home with me it was coming. There was also a children’s book whose illustrations were a little more abstract than I’d seen before. And of course, there was a dragon ornament, because… dragons.
Turning down the final row, I was drawn to this little elf figurine. He was different than the others, almost like his eyes were staring right at me. But sadly, when I went up to pay, there was no price tag.
“I’m sorry, without any pricing, I can’t sell this.” She looked sympathetic, not like she was being a jerk to be a jerk.
“I didn’t see one on there, so I thought… never mind. I’ll just take the rest.” I wasn’t sure why it made me so sad, but it did.
“Let me take a look where you found it and see if I can figure it out for you.”
I showed her where it was from, and it turned out that the little guy was just part of a set and that’s why he looked unmarked. That was how I ended up leaving with eight elf statues. None looked like they belonged together and I wasn’t sure how they made a set, but I wasn’t arguing. I really wanted that little elf.
Maybe it was my sign to make all things elves for my booth.
Chapter 3
Merry
“Huh?”
Who said that? Perhaps it was my mate. That was quick. I didn’t feel a thing.
I blinked, but instead of landing at my mate’s feet, I was where I was a moment earlier: in Santa #1’s office.
“Is there something wrong?” I jiggled, thinking I had to be moving to set the spell of whatever it was in motion. When that had no effect, I jumped up and down and clapped and yelled, “I’m still here.”
Santa furrowed his already crinkly brow. “Is this a new dance routine?” His frown disappeared and was replaced with a wide smile. “I do love the elves’ annual Christmas concert.”
Crestfallen, my shoulders slumped and I bowed my head. If my tricks hadn’t worked, I’d have to up my game. My mind churned, imagining the pranks I’d play on my Christmas Village colleagues.
“I called you here for a reason, Merry.”
Oh, maybe my plan had worked.
“Whatever you want to dish out, I can take it, Santa.”
“What do you want for Christmas?”
It was my turn to say, “Huh?”
“Have you forgotten I ask all my elves for suggestions regarding their gifts?”
I had, and even if I hadn’t, I’d have assumed I would be far away.
“Not sure, Santa.” I was tempted to say, “You choose?” But Santa #1 and all of the other Santas spent the year making decisions about which gifts to give which child. He didn’t want the burden of choosing his elves’ gifts.
“A book of tricks.”
“Done.” He scribbled a note in his large ledger.
I dragged my feet as I left his office. What was the secret to getting a mate? Whoever it was, it was a secret.
If I was ever to meet my mate, I had to use magic. Real magic where things went poof and disappeared, not the magic of kindness. Some of the elves in the village possessed that skill. Not me. I’d ask one of my friends to give me a magic charm that I could use on Santa. He’d be furious and send me away with a shake of his fist.