Noelle blinked rapidly. Lapland. Was that part of Greenland? Or was it Iceland? Something sounded familiar enough about it, but she was so shocked at Croaker's demand that she was blanking on her geography.

He must have seen her hesitation, because Croaker continued. "Well, you're actually flying into Helsinki first, then you need to take a connecting flight that will take you to the edge of the Arctic Circle."

"No," Noelle said.

"What was that?" Croaker asked.

She would have crossed her shaking arms if she weren't still holding her instrument. Instead, she clumsily fumbled about before tucking the violin under her arm. "I said no. I'm not flying to the Arctic Circle."

"But you haven't even heard the details!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Counting on his fingers, he continued. "Play a private concert on Christmas Eve, all expenses paid—"

"I won't do it," she cut him off. She didn't need to hear all the "perks." Once he said Christmas and Arctic Circle, her decision had been made. Holiday cheer and freezing weather? No thank you!

"Enough! Your flight leaves in three hours, which means you have just enough time to go home, grab your passport, and get to LaGuardia," Croaker said firmly.

Noelle shook her head and defiantly pressed her lips together. She wasn't going to be bullied into agreeing. And even if she was, she didn't need to make it easy. "Absolutely not," she said.

"This isn't up for discussion. The orchestra owns you. We can assign your services to any performance at any venue unless—"

"Unless what?" Noelle asked, latching on to the first possibility of getting out of this nightmare.

He shrugged. "Unless you would rather void your contract and terminate your employment with the New York City Concert Orchestra."

Her heart sank. She didn't practice the violin for three hours every day since middle school, neglect a healthy social life in favor of gaining acceptance to the prestigious Landon Conservatory, nor risk jail-time for possibly giving bad Chinese food to her biggest rival during auditions to give up her chair now. But surely the Director couldn't just send her half way around the world at a few hours' notice four days before Christmas on a whim. There had to be laws about that or . . .. That was it! If he could use the contract against her, then she could too. She didn't read all thirty-some-odd pages of it before signing, but there must have been some part about employer obligations with regards to an employee's well-being.

"How can you guarantee my safety?" she asked, thrusting her chin up and putting a hand on her hip.

He blinked in confusion. "What?"

"My safety," Noelle repeated. "You know, like, how can you be sure that this is a legitimate request and some wacko isn't just going to lure me to this far-off place and have his way with me?"

"Have you seen you?" he asked, eyeing her intently while circling his face with a finger, pointing to her unconventional hairstyle and dark makeup. At least she didn't have her lip ring in, nor were her shoulder tattoos visible. "No offense, Miss Nixon, but you confuse the kids on November first into thinking it's still Halloween. But with that aside, our patron made a hefty donation to the orchestra in addition to paying your fee and all expenses, of course."

Noelle sighed. "Great. So I'm going to be kidnapped by a rich weirdo," she mumbled, but apparently not quietly enough.

"No one is going to be kidnapped," he insisted. "You'll fly in, spend a few days enjoying the local hospitality, play the concert on Christmas Eve, and then fly home."

It all seemed so straightforward, yet her mind was racing for an excuse—any excuse—to get out of this. Not because she wasn't flattered for being personally requested. Not because she didn't want to play. Not even because of the trip itself.

The only thing Noelle Nixon took offense at was the timing.

Christmas mothereffing Eve.

If this offer had come at any other time of the year, she would have jumped at the opportunity. But she had already mentally prepared for the ten-day break she'd have from everything Christmas related from precisely now until the last day of December. Retreating to her apartment after the Rockefeller Center concert, she wouldn't emerge until the last ham had been baked, the last present had been unwrapped, and the last seasonal rom-com had been streamed. And she wouldn't partake in any of it. Instead, she would happily wait for her daily UPS delivery—Doug was her usual guy, but the holiday rush meant there were occasional substitutes—whether of half-prepped meals, surprise book boxes, or late night Amazon splurges. If she were lucky, she wouldn't even run into her snooty lawyer neighbor or his annoying cat.

Noelle's eyes widened. "The cat!" she exclaimed. "I mean, my cat. I can't go because of my cat." While Noelle, in fact, did not have a cat, at that exact moment it seemed like the perfect excuse. The lie therefore spilled out of her like champagne into crystal flutes on New Year's Eve, which she planned on spending with a couple thousands of her closest friends in Times Square. "It's too late to board her, and I can't leave her alone for almost a week, so I guess that's that," she said with mock contrition.

"Your cat?" Croaker asked, the disbelief clear in his tone.

"Yes." Noelle nodded. "She's my everything, and I have no one to leave her with. I'm sorry—"

But he wasn't interested in the explanation, already reaching toward the woman with the bass still behind him, patiently waiting for her turn. "Miss Boone could watch your cat for a few days. Isn't that right?" he asked in an overtly sweet tone that dripped with desperation.

Avery somehow managed to look both surprised and excited at the same time, so she had to have either been listening or there wasn't a disagreeable bone in her body. By what little Noelle knew of her orchestra mate, it was mostly the latter, but she couldn't quite discount the former beauty queen's penchant for eavesdropping. Still, as Croaker's head was turned for an answer, Noelle pantomimed a frantic plea for rejection.

With her blue eyes as large as the sun above Texas where she grew up, the bassist nodded enthusiastically. "I love cats. I'd be happy to—"

"Wonderful," Croaker cut her off, too.

Noelle's heart sank. "She can't do that," she objected.

"I can't? She can't?" Avery and Croaker asked in unison.

"No, you can't," Noelle said.

"Why not?" Avery asked.

"Yes, Miss Nixon. Why not?" asked the director.

Good question. Why not? Why couldn't this stranger watch her non-existent cat so that she could get out of going on a last-minute, all expenses paid trip just to do her job?

Think, Noelle. Think.

"She's an emotional support cat," she finally blurted out.

The declaration was met with blank stares, which meant she was on the right track. Confuse and conquer. On a roll, Noelle continued. "Yes. My cat is medically necessary for maintaining my healthy state-of-mind," she said, recalling everything—anything—she knew about the true function of such animals.

"Maybe we should have her around for times like these," Croaker said, nudging Avery with his elbow while rolling his eyes.

"That's discriminatory language, Mister Croaker," Noelle said. "As my employer, you need to respect my rights under the Americans with Disabilities Act, and—"

"Fine, fine, fine. You can take your cat with you," Croaker said, frantically waving his hands in front of him so she'd stop the accusations of illegal behavior.

Noelle gasped. That was not the response she was expecting. What the hell just happened? Instead of staying home with "her" cat, she now had to take it with her to freaking Lapland. And she didn't even have a cat! Ugh. She should have gone with an emotional support hedgehog or maybe peacock. There was no way any airline would let those fly.

"I can't go unless she comes, too," Noelle blurted out, pulling Avery to her side. Surely Croaker didn't have authority to send both of them.

"What?" asked the others in unison.

"What?" Noelle repeated, barely believing the words that just came out of her mouth as her heart beat erratically. Self-preservation was a heck of a stimulant.

Croaker snapped back to reality first. "Why must Miss Boone accompany you to Lapland, Miss Nixon?" he asked.

Noelle faltered. She definitely hadn't thought this through. "Uhm . . .."

"Is it because you heard that my family cancelled their trip to visit me?" Avery's eyes lit up at the prospect of tagging along. "Do you want to spend Christmas with me? Ooh, did you already have plans for us to go somewhere together?"

The increasingly absurd assumptions spilled out of her, but it was the only lifeline Noelle had. "Yes," she stated firmly.

"Well, which one is it?" Croaker asked, eyeing both women with disapproval and a heaping dose of incredulity.

Like a diver about to plunge head first into the abyss, Noelle took a deep breath. "All of it," she lied, hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake that would royally backfire.

This is my #NaNoWriMo2019 project and while I absolutely love all of my silent readers, I would LOVE to get your encouragement while writing this story. So please, please, please add it to your libraries, vote on the chapters (updates daily!) and leave me comments. <3

One of the reasons I like Christmas time in the US is because tv channels like Hallmark, Lifetime and Netflix play so many romantic movies in November and December. Fake princesses, mistaken identities, or reconnecting with old loves in small towns? Yes, please!