The security wouldn’t let me in without making the entry. I mumbled “Has that thief made an entry here?” I don’t think he understood. I don’t blame him, I am not very perceptible after two drinks.I ran into the floor and rang the bell. She opened the door and had a big grin on her face.“What?” I saidShe pulled me into the house, closed the door and said with a big grin “I tricked you”“What the …” I still had few last drops of decency left in me, so didn’t complete the sentence. But shrugged multiple times, panting.She gave me a hug and gave a peck on my cheek.“Sorry tough guy. Are you mad at me?”“Have you been drinking” I asked“As if you haven’t been” she said turning away toward the living roomI had calmed down by now. She was wearing a creamy satin night gown, revealing the thighs partly and quite deep at the right place I must say.“So, how do I look?” she must have noticed I taking the measure from head to toes.“Not bad”“Just not bad?”I am never sharp in situations like these. I. Somehow Deborah Snowdrop and her friends always seemed to get caught up in things. It wasn't that elves were attractive as such, or that pixies were particularly engaging company, or that trolls were — well anything really. But somehow the season seemed to make them all more persistent.The elves were the worst. They all used the same chat-up lines. "Why don't we go back to my crib and see if you can make the bell on my hat ring?" was one of the more amusing ones. At least until you'd heard it for the thirtieth time. And, of course, there was always, "You fairies are good with wands, why don't you come and rub mine to see what magic happens?" But they had plenty of money at this time of year — it was always busy in the workshops in December — and they all seemed determined to spend it.Which was what had accounted for the line of vodkas that had been set up for Deborah and her friends and the drinking game and the karaoke session and...Deborah groaned quietly at the thought of it. Her.
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