KRISTAL
The fourth day of Christmas
I come awake to the Apple Watch I won in last Christmas’s elf round-robin vibrating on my wrist. I reach over to turn it off with a sleepy sigh, knowing there’s no way I would have woken up on my own without it. After years of trying to get in drawing time before work, I’m a natural early riser. But last night was…
Intense…hot…confusing. All of the above. So, in other words, what I’ve come to expect from my mysterious Japanese billionaire.
I look over at Hayato, and a longing Beach Boys tune unfurls inside my head at the sight of him sleeping. Wouldn’t it be nice? I think as I watch his defined chest rise and fall. His soft black hair hangs over his eyes in a gentle sweep that makes my fingers itch to push it back.
But I don’t. He appears so peaceful in this state. It’s hard to believe that this person and the sex-crazed animal who kept me up half the night are one and the same.
Is this the real him? Is that what he’s been hiding all along under his polite, distant mask? A soft and gentle spirit that would come out if I—
I brutally cut myself off before I can finish that thought. I’ve seen enough of my elf cousins come back to the workshop on the twelfth day of Christmas, infatuated with some human—only to discover the next Christmas that he or she has moved on.
An image of my mom in her last dying days, floats across my mind. Coughing and still defending my father.
“You can’t blame him. He’s a man. Men can’t wait. They just don’t know how to keep on loving when the going gets tough. The truth is I should never have fallen in love with him. Should’ve kept you and kept on walking. My good sense knew how he was from the start, but my heart wouldn’t listen.”
Wouldn’t listen.
Apparently, I’d inherited more than my stubbornly curvy build from my mom. My heart continues to play Beach Boy songs, even though Hayato has made it more than clear what this is about for him. Just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing, oh-my-gosh, how many times can one elf come before passing out sex. But just sex, nonetheless.
I’m not going to do it, I decide. I’m not going to repeat my mother’s mistakes. That means I’ve got to stay clear-headed. Cool. Be cool, I tell myself over the Beach Boys song, trying to spin inside my heart.
Thus begins a second morning of resisting. Instead of pushing the hair out of his eyes, I push back the covers and quietly slip out of bed. And instead of kissing Hayato awake, I remind myself it’s only sex, and I’m only his escort for the next ten days, as I head to the bathroom.
A literal bathroom. The last hotel had only offered a sleek all-glass shower, but this one hosts an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, which has been modified to also serve as a shower. Normally I would love to take a bath. Maybe even read one of the People magazines Hayato gifted me.
But indulging myself feels a little too dangerous this morning. Remembering how he coldly commanded me to take a shower after I kissed him on the plane, I yank close the curtain and twist the antique brass knobs on the wall.
The shower creaks and bangs when I turn it on, but the water comes out in a lukewarm, too forceful spray. Not quite my fairy rain shower back in the workshop, but hey, how boring would this world be if every bathroom was interior designed by fae?
In any case, the shower clears my mind and helps me reset my resolve. You’re not here to fall in True Love, I remind myself as I dry off with a simple white towel and put on the clothes I pulled out of my suitcase.
Yes, he’s insanely hot. And great in bed. And bought me a year’s worth of People magazines, based on something I said once, nearly a year ago. And yeah, he looks at me like I’m irresistible—me! Doofy, awkward, Kristal…
But…BUT…you’re just performing a service to get Jae-Hyun what he needs for the coming year, I remind myself before my heart can place the needle on Track 1 of the Pet Sounds record. I know you’re the nerdiest elf that ever has lived, but be cool, Kristal. You’ve got to be cool. That’s the only way you’ll get out of this with your heart intact.
Yes, I’ll be cool, I re-decide, walking out of the bathroom fully dressed. I’ll be cool, and these ten days will pass before I know it.
It’s worth it for Jae-Hyun, I tell myself. Again.
Will there ever come a morning over the course of our arrangement where I won’t have to tell myself that? Or even a waking hour?
“Good morning.”
I stop, all of those reminders and resolutions flying from my head when I find Hayato sitting up in bed. It looks like he was waiting for me to come out. Not just his eyes, but his entire torso turned toward the bathroom door. And good gosh, could he look any hotter?
Even after studying under Jae-Hyun for years, I don’t think I’d be able to draw him looking any better, any more appealing than he does right now. Technically he’s covered up by the bed’s old fashioned quilt. But it sits so low. I can see every one of his abs and a happy trail leading down to…
“Good—good morning,” I stutter. Ugh! Could I sound any less like a sophisticated escort? When will I ever stop feeling so gosh darn awkward around him?
He gives me a head bow much politer than my thoughts about how insanely delicious he looks sitting in that bed. “You were once again not here when I woke up.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was taking a shower,” I say, not sure how else to answer that. Or why he cares one way or the other if this is just sex and not True Love, like my cousin Krista claimed.
He looks down, then to the side, his eyes and chin making precise swipes. “I do not like that.”
“You—you don’t like me taking a shower. But I thought that was one of the things you expected from—”
“I do not like you not being here when I wake up.”
My chest starts to warm but then cuts off in a jangle of confusion bells. His words are lovely, romantic even. But his face is grim, like he’s just admitted to peeing in the bed, not having an actual shred of feeling about waking up without me.
See? See? This is what makes it so hard to do this with Hayato. What he’s doing to my heart goes way beyond mixed signals.
Asking myself, not for the first time, what a real escort would do, I paste on a professional smile and say. “Okay, do you want me to wake you up before I take a shower?”
“I would like for you to stay in bed until I wake,” he answers.
Again, nice words, but his teeth are gritted like I’ve beaten a confession out of him.
“Okay,” I agree quietly, nonetheless, falling back on my “what would a real escort do” protocol.
“Thank you,” he says with another polite nod.
An awkward silence falls between us. “I was…I was going to go downstairs and see about breakfast. The owner and the cook are still stuck in the next town over, but Declan’s mom said she’d make us breakfast herself.”
“Thank you.” He responds with another perfectly polite nod as if he’s not naked as the day he was born underneath that quilt. Funny how it had seemed heavy last night. Now it appears way, way too thin. And I can’t help but recall all the things he did to me on top of those covers while the nor’easter howled outside…
Okay, breakfast. My body burning with memories of last night, I head toward the door, which isn’t that far away at all. Of hotel rooms we’ve stayed in, this one is easily the smallest. About twelve by twelve feet, with just enough room for a narrow bed, one thin secretary’s desk, and a small chest of drawers.
Given that the hotel is almost empty, I’m still a little surprised that Hayato didn’t book the honeymoon suite. But according to Declan, this was one of only two rooms that met Hayato’s standard.
“Sorry about the small quarters, but Nakamura’s got a lot of requirements for his hotel accommodations. You know, kind of like feng shui.”
Kind of like feng shui? That explanation didn’t sit quite right with me as I ate dinner with Declan and his mother in the kitchen after Hayato skipped the meal last night, saying he wanted to take a nap in the room.
And it’s still not sitting well with me now, even after our night of awesomeness—one I am not sure was planned or if it interrupted the work, not sleep, which he was doing when I’d walked in last night.
Of course, I don’t care about the size of our accommodations, which we’ll be sharing until the storm passes and the road leading back to the airport can be cleared. The apartments at Santa’s workshop shrink and expand to fit the number of occupants, and I’m a loner. So I’m used to living in a space only slightly larger than the dorm room at Stanford we moved my cousin Kristos into fifteen Christmases ago.
But, something continues to feel off about Declan’s explanation. Feng shui is a Chinese concept, first of all. And, my Japanese—uh, I guess I’ll call him client—doesn’t strike me as the superstitious sort.
As I reach for the doorknob, I make a mental note to ask Declan a few more questions about Hayato’s “requirements” for his hotel rooms.
“Kristal-san.”
I pause, then turn. Hayato’s still on the bed, but he’s once again fully turned toward me. Like both his body and his eyes followed me to the door.
“Yes?” I ask, swallowing hard.
Instead of answering out loud, he stands and walks toward me.
I try not to stare. I really do. But come on, Hayato is basically built like a manga hero. Long and strong with every line on his body well-defined. It’s like trying to look away from a work of graphic art coming to life.
A random memory of the woman in that A-Ha video for “Take on Me” floats into my head. The way she stared in shock when the hero of her comic book suddenly winked at her and held out a hand, offering to pull her out of the boring European diner she was sitting in, into his dangerous world. And she actually took it.
That’s how I feel right now. Like I’m getting pulled into something dangerous by the insanely cute manga hero come to life.
But this isn’t True Love, I remind myself. It doesn’t matter that Krista’s never been wrong about a True Love match. Not even once. Oh dear…in a less chiding voice, I beg myself, don’t fall, don’t fall. Please, don’t fall for this guy.
“Yes?” I somehow manage to ask again, even though my throat has gone completely dry.
He leans in close. And I think, maybe he’s going to kiss me. My breath hitches, and a tingling anticipation courses through my body.
But then he stops his mouth just a few millimeters away from mine. “Breakfast can wait. Come back to bed. Please.”