The village has been turned into a magical Dickens scene.
Actors dressed as characters fromA Christmas Carolline the streets, greeting us and speaking in period-specific dialect, adding to the charm of the inviting town. Small mom-and-pop shops are decked for the holidays. Ebenezer Scrooge ladles hot chocolate to a growing crowd in the town square.
Jules and I peel away and find ourselves in the local bookshop, tucked between a candle store and a boutique. A miniature locomotive puffs around a winter wonderland in the front window. Santa’s village is complete with tiny workshops and figurines. Elves no bigger than my thumb carry presents, while reindeer wait patiently beside a sleigh dusted with artificial snow. It’s whimsical, ridiculous, and I absolutely love it.
“Do they set up this train every year?” I ask Jules, not bothering to hide my delight.
She crouches beside me. “They change the display yearly, but the train is always part of it. I’ve seen it go from a beachy Santa vibe to an epic gingerbread house village. Last year, it wasMadagascar. Come on. Let me show you the rest.”
Soft instrumental carols drift through the store, layered with the faint chug of the toy train and the gentle hum of conversation. I trail my fingers along the bookshelves, where sprigs of holly nestle between titles. Holiday books are prominently displayed, with quirky, handwritten staff picks beneath. The air smells of cloves, orange peel, and that magical blend of ink and paper.
This is my version of heaven.
Books line every inch, from the bright, open children’s section to the darker, quieter shelves in the back. We reach the furthest corner of the shop with thrillers on one side, romances on the other. Jules and I turn, each drawn to our respective shelves.
“I’m glad to see you don’t have the same aversion to books as my brother,” Jules says.
“While I plan to be a boring corporate lawyer, I love nothing more than reading. I’m partial to thrillers. The darker the better.”
“Ah, well, Miss Boring Corporate Lawyer, what’s your take on romance novels?”
She thrusts an open book into my hands. After scanning a particularly steamy passage, I snap the book shut and laugh. “Damn, I need a cold shower. I always thought those books were all angst, bare-chested men, and busty ladies.”
“Oh, girl, that was nothing. I’ll introduce you to some of my favorites.”
I open the book again. The scene where the heroine meets a stranger in a bar sparks a memory, and a small smile tugs at my lips.
Jules squints at me. “Okay, what was that look?”
“What look?” I flutter my lashes, feigning innocence.
“The I’m-remembering-something-deliciously-inappropriate smirk. Did my uptight brother actually do something scandalous?”
There’s something disarming about Jules. Maybe it’s the way she asks questions with the certainty that she’ll love the answers, whatever they are. I find myself wanting to share rather than retreat.
“Well… Mason and I didn’t exactly meet in the library.”
She’s practically bouncing on her toes. “Ohhh, do tell.”
I look around to make sure others can’t overhear. “It was at a bar near Capitol Hill.” The memory pulls me back…
It was one of those swampy D.C. nights when the heat clings to your skin and even your bones feel damp. Rachel, another summer associate, dragged me to some sleek Capitol Hill hotspot after a brutal week. The place was packed with suits too expensive for interns, sipping cocktails priced to ensure exclusivity.
“Try to have fun,” Rachel said. “Maybe smile and try not to scare every guy off.”
I slid onto a stool, ordered a vodka soda, and pulled out my phone—my shield of choice—and began scrolling, internally noting what I still needed to finish up at home.
A man leaned in, a hint of whiskey on his breath. “Did that scowl come with the suit, or was it a separate purchase?”
I turned to see a guy with an expensivewatch, rolled sleeves, and a smile born of never hearing the word no. I should have been annoyed, but the audacity made me smile.
“Let me guess... hedge fund?”
He laughed, unfazed. “Lawyer. Mason.”
“Sydney. It’s only 9. How’d you escape the office already?”
“So you’re a first-year associate too?”
