Page 3 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
“What?” Eli’s head snapped from Murray to Sheena. “He was touching me up — he had no right. What was I supposed—?”
“Please leave the function room, Elias.” Two small, angry eyes bored into him. “Now.”
“But he was—”
“What’s going on here?” The voice cut across Eli, from behind him, clipped but calm and full of authority.
“He tried—”
“Elias! Wait for me in the staff area. Now.”
Eli didn’t need to be told twice. Spinning around and almost falling over his stupid shoes, he dipped his head and did everything he could to stop himself from running.
CHAPTERTWO
“…but he was rubbing himself off on me, for god’s sake. That’s assault. I could go to the police. I could sue him.” Could he? Eli had no idea about the suing, but he was on a roll. And furious, so bloody furious at the injustice of it all.
“I don’t see a long line of witnesses queuing up to back your version of events.” Sheena raised an over-plucked brow at the same time she swished her hair. “You caused a scene, in front of a very prestigious and valued client. It is not,” she said, stabbing at each word, “the sort of behaviour Jolly Eventful expects from those who work for the company. Even casual staff.” She said the words with sniff.
She’s washing her hands of this, she’s not going to do anything…
“What about your duty of care? To your employees?”
“But you’re not an employee, are you? You’re a casual seasonal worker with no rights beyond your agreed hourly rate.”
“What he did, it was assault!” Eli hated the wobble in his voice and the shake, now the adrenaline that had flooded his system was receding, which travelled from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.
Sheena flapped her hand, as though Eli were no more than an irksome fly. “It’s best you leave, because I have quite enough to deal with without you causing extra work. I’m willing to pay you for the remainder of the evening, as a gesture of goodwill. You’ll receive an additional three hours’ pay, for which you’ll not have worked.” Her face screwed up as though she were in physical pain.
Eli blinked. And blinked again.
“Leave? You’re sacking me? But I was being—”
“Iam being very lenient.Youassaulted a client. God alone knows what the dry cleaning bill will be. Elias, please go and get changed, and collect your things. If you haven’t left within—” she looked at her watch, “fifteen minutes, I will have no option but to ask security to escort you from the premises.”
“What?” But it was too late, as Sheena, kitten heels tapping out a bad-tempered tattoo, flicked and swished her hair as she walked away.
Eli stared after her. He could… He could what? There was nothing he could do, and he knew it as much as Sheena did. He was hourly paid casual staff to be hired and fired at will, whatever the circumstances, just as Sheena effin’ Jolly had made very clear. What was left of his anger and indignation flooded out of him. He was tired and fed up, his only option to pack up and go, and wave goodbye to any more work from Jolly Eventful.
At least I won’t have to dress up like a slutty elf again….Or a banana, which he’d been at the Festival of Fruit in the summer.
The changing room was empty and silent, and Eli made his way over to the battered locker in the corner.
Oh no. No, no, no…
Could his evening get any worse?
The door to the locker was ajar and Eli pulled it fully open. His heart fell. His jeans, jumper, jacket, boots — all of them gone. The jacket that had his wallet in, his phone, his keys, his travel card…
The padlock lay on the floor, partially hidden by the bench, as though it’d been hurriedly kicked away, and he swooped to pick it up.
Eli had worked enough functions and events to always check he securely locked his stuff away as thefts from hotel staff changing rooms were common. But this time he’d been running late, getting to the hotel with only seconds to spare, Sheena berating him and threatening to dock his pay. He’d been flustered as Miss Swishy Hair had been on and on at him, her braying bad-tempered words battling the awkward, cringing conversation he’d had with his flat mate Benny that morning, a conversation that had been going around in his head on a continuous loop, a conversation he’d been half expecting and wholly dreading.
Had he snapped the padlock closed properly? He had his answer as he stared at the bronze coloured lock. There were no signs of damage; it hadn’t been forced, just like the hasp on the locker door hadn’t.
Eli sank down onto the bench and let his head fall into his hands.
How the hell was he going to get home? Covent Garden to Stockwell. It wasn’tthatfar, only around three miles, but anywhere was too far when dressed as an elf… Eli shuddered. Maybe Sheena would give him an advance so he could get a cab?Yeah, some hope.
