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“Ah, good then.” I stood awkwardly, avoiding passers by. “Can I have my alpaca back now, please?” I asked politely.
“He’s needy, isn’t he?” Nisha murmured to Pickles, rubbing his nose affectionately. He let her feed him and coo all over him.
“I’m not the needy one,” I grumbled.
“And grumpy, too.”
I huffed and didn’t object to that. “So, thank you for helping me find my hotel.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted the girl to disappear or ask her to come up and help me find my room.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I never let people into my personal space. Ever. Even if they were cute as all get out and dressed like a reindeer-elf hybrid.
“I’m gonna give you a tour of New York,” Nisha announced. “I’ll even waive my fees ‘til Christmas. I get the feeling you don’t love it here and I can’t let you go back to wherever you came from without falling in love.”
Her eyes glowed, and it wasn’t the city that held my attention.
“Uh, sure,” I replied dumbly.
“Great!” She slipped a card into my hand. "Right here, nine am. I'll pick you up tomorrow."
“Thanks.” I took the card with her number and a happy little Santa hat next to her name. “Nisha Lister. You might have just saved my Christmas.” I offered her a bemused smile.
"If you get that alpaca into the Plaza, I’ll eat that Santa hat before Pickles does." She grinned at me again. “And I'll see you tomorrow at nine. Morning time, no sleep ins."
“Not a night owl, huh?” I closed my hand into a fist, counting the hours I needed to make up for work while I wandered lost around the city.
“Early bird gets the tourists,” she called, and waved at me over the shoulder.
Her hips swayed temptingly side to side as she walked away, still full of more energy than most people I knew.
My lost day had turned into a semi-productive day, and at least I found my accommodation. Baring my teeth and praying money spoke more than a smile, I led Pickles toward the doorman who stared in horror at my camelid, and then at me.
"You've got to be joking," he muttered, not reaching for the door.
Pickles chose that moment to defecate tiny pellets in a neat little pyramid right on the hotel’s front doorstep.
I gave the doorman a broad grin, gritted my teeth, and reached for the door myself.
"Nope. Merry Christmas."
