Page 4 of Santa’s Lawyer

“From the Christmas crackers!” Louis exclaimed.

“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked.

“Goodness,” he said. “That’s right, we’re in America. A Christmas cracker is a small cardboard tube with a tiny firecracker inside. And you have to work with someone else to tug it apart, and it goes ‘crack!’ And then inside, there’s a paper crown, and you wear it during Christmas dinner. And there’s a small gift. And a joke.”

“A joke?” Avery asked, tilting her head, fascinated by Louis’ seemingly bottomless enthusiasm for all things Christmas. He was giving her a run for her money.

“Yes! Printed on paper, sort of like a message inside a fortune cookie,” he said, picking up one of the plastic-wrapped cookies the waiter had left when he brought their check over an hour ago.

Avery had lost track of time completely; she hadn’t checked her watch once during the entire meal. They swapped stories of Christmases from their childhoods; about her unbroken tradition with Santa at the candle store; about how neither of them really liked eggnog but were too ashamed to admit it. Louis shared Avery’s frustration with those who value money over happiness; he couldn’t hear enough about her time in Alaska lobbying for the reindeer; and he was the only person she had encountered who seemed to rival her encyclopedic knowledge of Christmas movies. She’d never felt so at ease with a stranger.

Avery had been grinning so hard for so long that her face hurt. She wasn’t used to smiling this much in a professional setting. If this had been a date, it would have been the best she’d ever had.

Louis cracked open the fortune cookie and pulled out the strip of paper inside. “Ah, exactly, thank you,” he said to the cookie. He looked up at Avery, who stared back at him quizzically.

“Why are Christmas trees bad at sewing?” Louis read from the paper, barely suppressing a laugh.

Avery arched an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t know, Louis, why are Christmas trees bad at sewing?”

He leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “Because they’re always dropping their needles!” he finished in a whisper.

Avery paused before a laugh burst out of her. She shook her head in amazement.

Then she sighed and dropped her smile.

“What is it?” Louis asked, a portrait of concern.

“I miss Christmas with my family. Mom and Grandma, specifically.” Avery surprised herself with her confession. “I don’t know my father. It’s just me now, and Christmas is the only thing keeping me going. But Christmas doesn’t even seem right this year, without them. Without Mom. I feel like the only person who really gets me is,” she shifted in her chair, refolding her napkin, “a candle store Santa Claus.”

She risked a look up at Louis, who was rapt.

“That must sound ridiculous coming from a grown woman,” Avery hedged.

“Not at all,” Louis assured her. “I specialize in Christmas, remember?”

She brightened a little.

“How you’re able to stay so whimsical, so full of Christmas spirit with everything life has thrown at you, it’s...” Louis searched the table for a word before his eyes met Avery’s. “Well, it’s rather miraculous,” he decided.

The woman behind the counter struck a service bell. “Order up!” she declared.

Louis sat up straight.

“There is one job I think you might be very well suited for,” he said, getting to the business they’d been ignoring for the last few hours. “But it’s...well, not to sound dodgy, but it's for a very exclusive client, and it’s top secret. You’d have to sign an NDA just to interview.”

Avery leaned in, putting her forearms on the table, intrigued.

"It’s a massive operation, loads of responsibility,” he continued. “It’s a 365-day-a-year situation. But. You’ll never find a job more focused on Christmas. And really, it’s less of a job and more of a lifestyle. Though a comfortable one indeed. It’s not here in the Big City. But let’s just say you’d never have to worry about paying your bills again. Or missing Christmas.”

This sounded too good to be true to Avery. “What’s the catch?”

“Well, apart from the NDA, you’d have to prove your qualifications,” he explained. “And that process is done on site. But I happen to know an excellent tutor who can assist you in your preparations. And with your credentials and experience,” Louis smiled and looked down at his empty plate, before continuing. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Avery felt herself warm from the inside out. “Me too,” she said, her voice soft.

Louis looked up, and they stared at each other in silence for just a moment too long, long enough for Avery to realize that they were the only two people left in the restaurant.

“Should we...” she reluctantly suggested.