Christmas with Nick Klaas

Part 3: Emotional Support Cat

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."