Page 17 of Mistletoe Face Off

She shifts position and gets this goofy grin on her face that makes her even more beautiful—which up to a moment ago, I didn't think was possible.

“I had a little crush on him. You know, one of those unrequited things from afar?”

She did not just say that. I feel like punching the air. Who knew Holly Coleman had a crush on me back in the day. Mysixteen year old self would be doing cartwheels right about now if he knew.

I'm about to ask her to elaborate further on this crush when Daphne rushes over to us with our next task. But Holly’s admission that she had a crush on me back then keeps a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

Chapter Four

Holly

I must have previously-undetected daddy issues or something because I have not been able to get Santa Claus out of my head for the past few days.

Well, the guyplayingSanta Claus, anyway.

Not that I could see all that much of him around his beard and wig and that pillow-stuffed suit of his. But I did manage tosnap that shot of him shirtless before he donned his jacket, and I admit, I've looked at the photo more than once.

Okay, I’ve looked at it a whole bunch. So much so I could practically draw every well-defined muscle on that perfectly formed torso of his.

Can you blame me? That body is totally at odds with his fatherly Santa disguise.

But I'm doing him a disservice if all I think about are those perfectly sculpted abs of his—as spectacular as they were. He was easy to talk to. Fun. Sure, he couldn't sing to save his life, but he didn't let that stop him giving his all up there at the microphone.

And the way he was with Macy? That's what really got me. He somehow coaxed her out of her shell, picking her up and encouraging her to be part of the Christmas songs. Maybe it was the Santa suit? But then again, maybe it was just him, a good guy, someone to be a positive role model for kids.

Really, despite looking like Santa Claus, he’s the best guy I’ve met in a long, long time. And you know what the sad thing is? I'll never know who he was. He got whisked away by the event convener and I had to get back to my job, tracking down some more of the Blizzard players to interview before collecting Macy from the colouring station and heading home for some late dinner.

Heck, I didn't even catch his name. All he called himself was Santa, and call me cynical, but I'm fairly sure “Santa” isn't his real name.

I guess he'll have to remain this weirdly hot, sweet, kind guy in my head, and nothing more than that.

And right now, I've got another Blizzard Christmas event to cover, this time at the arena where both figure skaters and hockey players will be showing off their moves on the ice for a crowd of ecstatic fans.

If I had any moment in which I thought I could get away with going to this event without Macy tagging along, I was wrong. The moment she found out figure skating was in the program, she was all over it like a rash.

So, here I am at my second Blizzard Christmas event in a week with my daughter in tow, hoping to get an interview with the elusive Harrison Clarke, who I have on good authority, never turned up to the last event where I played Mrs. Claus to hot Santa.

Actually, I need to stop saying that, even if it's just in my head. Santa is not hot.

Or he shouldn't be, anyway.

Man, if this got out I'll get known as the journalist with daddy issues for sure.

“Will Ingrid Seymour be performing?” Macy asks as I park the car outside the arena.

“I don't know, honey.”

“What about Kayla Cushen? Or Felicia Gomez? Are they performing?”

I pop open the glove box and rifle through the stack of papers stuffed haphazardly inside. After finding receipts and fliers for new dry cleaners opening up, I find the program for tonight's event. I run my eyes over it. “Okay, let me see. We've got the Blizzard showing off how they can hit a little black thing into a net with a stick first.”

Macy giggles. “It's a puck, Mommy.”

“I know. I'm being facetious,” I reply, hoping she doesn't know what facetious means. “Here it is. Performing tonight is Caleb Franklin and Felicia Gomez. Happy?”

“I would prefer if Ingrid Seymour was performing, but they're both pretty good.”

“I'm glad they pass muster with you. Right, we'd better get in there. Mommy's got to work, remember? Just like last time. I'vegot to interview a bunch of Neanderthal men who think the sun goes out when they sit down.”

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