Page 23 of Christmas with a Chimera (Claw Haven)

E veryone at the goddamn party wanted to say goodbye to Arthur before they left.

Arthur stuck it out. Smiled through every handshake and photo and autograph until Musgrove Inn was almost empty and it was time to go.

“The photo’s doing rounds on socials,” Rusty told him as he finished his last eggnog. “Everybody’s speculating about you two. I know I tell you this all the time, but you’re the best when it comes to looking at your leading lady.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said, making sure his voice was extra peppy to make up for the deep pit that had formed in him when he had watched Emma leave.

Was this how she’d felt, watching him walk off after their last Christmas walk?

Especially after the crap that he’d said to her about holding him back.

She hadn’t even raised her voice. If he felt this shitty when she’d left him on okay terms, he couldn’t imagine how she had felt all those years ago.

Rusty was still talking. Arthur tuned in just in time to hear him say, “If they gave out awards for this shit, you’d get the gold. Hey, before we head off, I wanted to ask you something.”

Arthur tore his eyes away from the door, where the last party stragglers were heading off with their Arthur autographs and mourning that they hadn’t been able to catch Jennifer before she ducked out. She was on an early flight tomorrow morning, and she wanted to be rested for it.

“Shoot,” Arthur said.

Rusty pointed at him. His cheeks were ruddy, his cap was twisted backward for the third time tonight, and his hair was a mess underneath it. A slight slur in his voice betrayed how much eggnog he’d had.

“I’m not meant to be telling you about this yet,” he said. “But I’m gonna anyway. I signed up to shoot another rom-com, and I want you in on it. It’s fake dating—everybody’s frothing at the mouth for that. You’d be in New York for four months. What do you say?”

Arthur hesitated. Two weeks ago, he would’ve said yes.

Would’ve said hell yes. He liked working with Rusty, he liked doing rom-coms, and his agent would be happy with him, even if it wasn’t one of the dramatic roles she’d been pushing him toward.

New York would be another fun city in a string of fun locations he was shooting in, film after film, year after year.

A constant string of parties and lights and noise, people all around, gushing at him, squeezing his biceps, asking for photos.

Watching him on big screens and streaming sites and billboards.

Everyone looking at him, but no one seeing him.

“Arthur,” Rusty said. “Hey. You in there?”

“What? Of course.” Arthur felt his tail swish and stilled it with a sigh. If Emma could start opening up, then so could he. “I’m just… I’m not really myself tonight.”

“Oh.” Rusty scratched his stubble. “Really? What’s up?”

Arthur tried not to be disappointed that Rusty didn’t notice. He had tried to hide it, after all. It was good that nobody had caught on.

“Just…ex crap,” he finished lamely and winced. It sounded cheap to describe it like that. But he didn’t want to go into it, especially when Rusty was looking at him all glazed and distracted, ready to get in the car and head to the airport.

“Never mind,” Arthur continued. “Look, thanks for the offer. Can I get back to you after Christmas?”

“Sure.” Rusty downed the last of his eggnog and slammed the glass onto the drinks table. “Come on, car’s waiting. You have your stuff from the cabin, right?”

“It’s behind the counter.”

Rusty smacked him on the back. “Great! Let’s go.”

Arthur watched, surprised, as Rusty swaggered into the lobby beside him. He’d assumed Rusty would be annoyed, the way he always was when Arthur didn’t do what he wanted.

Rusty peeled off toward the front doors with a jaunty wave.

Arthur returned it, wondering what Rusty would do if he stopped him and told him everything that had happened over the past two weeks.

Trying to make things right and then falling head over heels into feelings he thought he’d left behind over a decade ago.

Watching Emma finally start to open up to the people around her, his pride mixed with a strange panic that he wouldn’t be around to see it.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Rusty wouldn’t give a shit. Just like at Sour Claw. He’d pretended, sure. But he wasn’t a good actor. Arthur had been giving him the benefit of the doubt for too long.

He headed for the counter, pausing when he spotted a familiar minotaur straightening a wreath that hung off the till.

“Oh, hello,” said Joshua Haberdash, tweaking a sprig of holly. “I thought you’d left.”

“I’m on my way. Car’s out front.” Arthur stooped behind the counter and picked up his suitcase. “Merry Christmas.”

“You, too.” Joshua smiled, wiping that infuriatingly dry fur out of his eyes. “It was good to see you. You should come back and visit when the movie comes out.”

“Right,” Arthur said. “Good publicity.”

“Sure,” Joshua said. “Also, we’d love to see you.”

He was as buttoned-up as ever, with no spills or even sweat on his clothes.

He didn’t smell like eggnog, just the usual flowery scent that followed him around his day job.

He straightened the wreath again. It kept listing to the side.

Joshua huffed in irritation, flicking fur out of his eyes once more.

Arthur was struck by a sudden inspiration. He set his suitcase down, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out a small, shiny tube.

He held it out. “It’s not wrapped, but Merry Christmas.”

Joshua looked up from the wreath. “Oh! Um.”

“It’s fur cream,” Arthur explained. “From the best specialist in LA. It’ll fix the dryness. Make it glossy. Give you more volume. Less flopping in your eyes.”

He gestured at the dull fur hanging over Joshua’s face. Joshua flicked it out of the way self-consciously and took the tube. For a moment, Arthur thought he’d screwed up and insulted his dry fur, but after another second of shock, Joshua broke out into a shy grin.

“Wow,” he said. “I’ve heard of this brand. This is fancy . Thank you, that’s so nice.”

“Yeah. Well.” Arthur grabbed his suitcase and headed for the front doors. “Wanted to return the favor, Haberdash. Those white tulips worked wonders.”

Joshua’s grin faded into something softer. “Good. You guys were really great for each other.”

Arthur slowed, a wave of exhaustion washing over him that had nothing to do with long shoots or parties or lying awake in bed filled with a nameless dread that had been plaguing him for the past week. It got worse every time he thought about his LA house, huge and gleaming and empty.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess we were.”

* * *

Rusty had rented them a limo.

Arthur stared. It was speckled with snow, which had started up again while he was at the party. It looked entirely out of place sitting on the side of the cramped road in front of Musgrove Inn. Like something from another life.

Arthur stood there until his tail started to go numb. Then he climbed into the back seat.

Rusty looked up from his phone. “Hey! Look what I got! You arrived with a bang, might as well go out on one, right?”

“Right,” Arthur agreed mindlessly, dropping his suitcase into the roomy footwell.

Rusty went back to scrolling, slouching back into his seat as the limo started down the road. “Can’t wait to get on that plane. I’m gonna pass out the second my head hits the seat, I know it. Also, hey, look what I found at the party…”

He rummaged in his pocket.

Arthur cut him off before he could reveal it. “Why’d you say that, back at Sour Claw?”

Rusty paused, hand stilling in his pocket. “Huh?”

“At the bar,” Arthur explained. “I wanted to fix things with Emma. You asked me why.”

Rusty frowned. Just for a second. Then his expression cleared out, something that Arthur would’ve done his best to ignore two weeks ago.

“Dunno,” Rusty said. “I started drinking with that vampire and orc duo after that. I don’t remember much about that night.”

He laughed. It was too desperate.

Arthur was annoyed by how shitty he was at faking it. “Don’t bullshit me, Rust. Don’t sit there and tell me what you think I want to hear. Just tell me the truth.”

Rusty’s mouth hung open. Arthur had never talked to him like that before.

He didn’t talk to anyone like that outside of a scene.

Arthur was widely known as the sweetest guy in Hollywood.

No dirty secrets, no hotel workers signing NDAs to hide that he screamed at them for not folding a towel correctly, no outrageous behavior even at his wildest parties.

If Arthur had something to say he thought someone wouldn’t like, he hid it in something so pretty the person barely noticed what was inside.

“I just…” Rusty said slowly. He let out another thin laugh.

“Arthur. Come on, buddy. She doesn’t matter!

She’s a childhood fling—who cares if she’s unhappy?

She’s not part of your life. She’s already gone, man.

Speck in the distance. Sure, you had to look at her for a few weeks, but now you’re leaving, and you never have to see her again. ”

Something flicked Arthur in the chin. He looked down and saw his fucking tail at it again, swishing agitatedly as Rusty pulled something out of his pocket.

“Here,” Rusty said. “Found these on the drinks table.”

Arthur held his tail in his lap and looked over.

Rusty was holding out his sunglasses. The same ones he’d been wearing when he strode back into Claw Haven, ready for two weeks of uncomfortable nostalgia before he cruised back out.

Ready for his real life to continue. To leave his hometown behind him forever, never looking back.

He hadn’t thought about Emma. Scratch that—he’d tried so hard not to think about Emma.

He had assumed she would avoid him, and that it would be for the best. He’d assumed that he’d see her in passing on the street and they’d both pretend to ignore each other.

He hadn’t expected a bone-deep urge to rise in him the second he saw her.

Hadn’t expected to see that old rage and want to peel it back to expose that beautiful heart underneath.

Hadn’t expected her to kiss him in his cabin or in the street in front of the house they had been planning to buy.

Hadn’t expected to knot her, to long for her, to fall for her all over again.

The welcome sign was coming up. Arthur hadn’t seen the other side of the new sign before.

You are now leaving Claw Haven , it declared. Come back if you’re looking for some peace and quiet.

The limo slid past. Arthur twisted in his seat to watch the sign get smaller and smaller.

“Hey,” Rusty said.

Arthur looked at him. Rusty was still holding out the sunglasses expectantly. He was trying to look concerned. But the matter remained that Rusty was never a good actor. Especially now, his smile dimming with every second Arthur stayed silent.

Arthur sighed, letting his shoulders drop in a way he hadn’t allowed in a long, long time.

“Rust,” he said. “We need to talk.”