Page 11 of Mistletoe Face Off

No. She’s classy. Refined. Understated.

Pity she’s married with a kid.

If she worked out who I am she sure didn't give it away, playing along with the whole Santa thing, probably for the sake of her kid. Part of me wanted to reveal who I am so I’d get to watch her beautiful face for her reaction. But another part of me enjoyed the anonymity wearing this red suit gave me with her.

I'm often judged the moment people meet me. They see Harrison Clarke, defenseman for the Chicago Blizzard. To them, I'm quite literally a number, worn on my jersey and theirs. They see me as a hockey player and only that. Which is fine most of the time. Women love that side of me, the famous pro athlete with the fancy car and fancier home.

But the thing is, you never really know whether someone’s interested in you or the fact you're a player when you’re in the NHL.

And yeah, I hear it. It’s the same old story, what you get from people in the public eye all the time. Poor me, the famous person everyone recognizes. The last thing I want to do is have some whinge over people not liking me for me and only liking me for my income and status.

But the fact of the matter is I don’t get to meet people much without them already knowing who I am.

I haven’t laid eyes on Holly since Senior Year. Would she treat me that way? I glance over at her. She's interviewing Hunter Adams, who towers over her, her kid clutching onto her hand like it's a lifeline. It should be Holly clutching on to her kid as a lifeline really. Known on the ice as “The Enforcer,” Hunterisn't exactly an easy going, friendly guy. Pick a fight between a Blizzard team member and the opposition, and I would bet my week’s wages on the fact Hunter would be in the mix. Probably even causing the ruckus.

It's something I intend to get on top of if I get the captaincy.WhenI get the captaincy. I need to keep up the positive self-talk.

I can tell Holly has to work hard to get much out of the guy. But she’s trying, I’ll give her that much.

I spend the next few minutes handing out candy canes to the kids, ho-ho-ho-ing with all the belly wobbles I can muster.

“Where are your elves?” one of the kids, a boy of about five or six with tight black curls, asks.

“I left them at the North Pole, building toys for all the kids on the Nice List,” I tell him.

“I want to meet an elf,” he replies, and his sentiment is echoed by several of the kids nearby.

I land on an idea. “Do you want to meet Mrs. Claus as well?” I ask, picturing a certain journalist in a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit.

Sue me. The woman I have in mind for that costume is hot, even if she is with another guy.

“Yeah!” the kids reply in unison.

“I'll go grab her, and see if I can get you an elf, too.”

“Thanks, Santa!”

I make my way through the crowds of people, showering them all with “Merry Christmases,” over to Holly and Macy. She's still trying to get Hunter to talk, but he’s busy grunting his monosyllabic responses. Neanderthal much?

Lorcan is standing beside him now, answering most of his questions for him, and I’m not the least surprised to find he’s flirting his butt off with Holly.

It makes me want to shove him away.

But then I get that instinct with the guy most days of the week.

If Lorcan Stanbridge wins the captaincy over me? Well, let’s just say I won’t be the happiest defenseman on the ice.

Macy tugs on her mom’s sleeve, her eyes on me. “Mommy, look. Santa’s here again,” she says urgently.

Hunter lifts his chin at me in greeting.

Lorcan shakes his head, his habitual smirk plastered across his face. “Nice outfit, Santa. What are you doing here? Don’t you have some chimney to get your fat belly wedged in somewhere?” he sneers, laughing at his own joke.

Did I mention how much I like this guy?

“I’ve come to see if Macy here would like to be my elf helper?” I ask, ignoring Lorcan, instead focusing on Holly’s daughter.

Her big eyes widen. “Can I, Mommy?”

---