Elves with Benefits (Reindeer Falls)

“I got the promotion,” he says in a rush. “I’m going back to Chicago.”

At first, the words don’t make any sense. Because they aren’t the right words at all.

He got the… promotion?

The one that’s a stepping stone to a life creating skyscrapers?

The one that requires him to go back to Chicago and leave Reindeer Falls?

“What?”

I don’t mean to shout. I’m not normally a shouter. My entire vibe is joyful elf. The sound isn’t even natural coming out of me. But I’m so shocked because I can’t believe what Ryan just said.

“I know, I can’t believe it,” Ryan says, clearly misinterpreting my reaction as one of shocked excitement. “I mean, I deserve it, obviously, I’ve been working for this for years, but it’s still just—”

“I was just your elf with benefits?” I say, pushing back my chair and abruptly standing. The chair squeaks as it slides against the old hardwood floors.

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to look shocked and confused. “What?”

“You used me,” I say. “I was nothing but a seasonal romp!”

“A seasonal… romp?” Ryan repeats dumbly.

“I can’t believe you,” I snarl at him, grabbing my bag and stomping toward the front door. “You are… you’re worse than the Grinch!”

“Maggie, what are you even talking about?”

I get closer to the door, and he reaches out to grab my wrist. But before he can touch me, I whirl on him.

“You are in contempt of Christmas!”

He blinks at me, moving from confusion to annoyance. “Maggie, what the hell? We’re back to ticketing? I thought I did everything you wanted me to do. Why are you mad?”

I glare at him. “Guess you’ll just have to figure it out, Citystupid.”

And then I yank open the door before he can say another word. I might not have my ticket book with me, but that isn’t even my biggest problem.

After all, there’s no applicable violation code for making me fall for him and then leaving. And there’s not a single fine I can think of that would make me feel better anyways.

Chapter Thirteen

I can’t believe him.

How could I have been so hoodwinked, so swindled?

I hate it even more because now, he’s done his absolute most to ruin Christmas. He’s given me the beginning of a Hallmark movie and then ruined the happy ending.

When I was growing up, at least I didn’t have expectations at Christmas. They were all terrible. Christmas mornings were nothing but a countdown to the fighting. Everything would start off right, with Mom’s cinnamon rolls and Dad trying his best to smile through the embarrassment of wearing matching Christmas pajamas. But inevitably, a comment would be made. Something like, “Well, if you were here to help me, you might know what Maggie was opening right now.” Or, “If you hadn’t worked late we could’ve gone to look at lights before it was crowded.”

No matter how rosy the start, Christmas would turn shitty. But in Reindeer Falls, that was never supposed to happen. It was supposed to be gumdrops and sugar plums and joy for the entire season. It was supposed to be perfectly decorated houses and rogues who turn into ideal boyfriends. Not a couple of weeks of the hottest sex of my life, of falling in love, of getting my heart broken.

I don’t even have the energy to tell Sutton and Lexi that they were right. They found out, of course, and they came over to treat me to cocoa. But I couldn’t even vent about it properly. I committed so hard to the fantasy that there’s nothing for me to do now but wallow privately. I’ll watch the sad Christmas movies, like It’s a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol, the ones I usually avoid because Christmas isn’t for sadness. I’ll let myself cry, and then I’ll forget about Ryan.

Except forgetting about him is proving near impossible. He’s leaving tomorrow. I know because I marked the date down on my desk calendar. Sutton mentioned it the other day, while attempting to console me. I don’t know why she told me, but I feel like at least it gave me a countdown to the end of this horrible mess.

No, not horrible. The end of a chapter, is all. Or the last page of a bad book. A book that was supposed to be a romance but ended up being women’s fiction. If I could’ve, I would’ve DNF-ed it before the bad part.

But still. I need to do something.

And then it hits me.

Of course! The house. Selling it.

One last way to remind Ryan that, if he doesn’t like Reindeer Falls, then there are plenty of people who’d be happy to take his place. Families, mostly. Definitely not a lot of hot young available men flocking to town. But never mind that, the point is, I can sell his house in a day and never have to see him again.