Page 4 of A Very Daddy Christmas

He flails and cries, determined to make a scene. “I wanna go to Santa’s Workshop!” the little boy moans, dramatic tears rolling down his reddened cheeks. His hair is light brown with copper highlights, a fluffy mess made even more colorful by his bright green eyes and spritz of freckles on his nose. “Santa! I wanna see Santa!”

“Waylan, we’re in trouble,” the dark-haired man says, finally pulling his attention away from me. “Dario really wants to go to the workshop, and I don’t think we’re going to make it out of here alive if we don’t appease him.”

“I know, man, but the client is waiting,” Waylan tells him, genuinely frustrated.

The blonde-haired man kneels in front of Dario and offers him his phone. “How about it, little man? For thirty minutes, tops.”

“No!” Dario slaps the phone from his hand altogether.

I can’t help but admire the three for their patience. They’re trying to dote on the boy as best as they can, but I know a sleepy tantrum when I see one. They’re not going to win this unless they figure out a way to get him to fall asleep, and fast. Other people are starting to notice and are looking their way, some clearly judging the men’s failure to keep the boy under control.

“Dario, please,” the dark-haired man tries again. “We can go after—”

“No. I wanna go now!”

“Excuse me,” I hear myself say before my brain can catch up to what my mouth just did. “I couldn’t help but notice. Do you need help?”

The three men freeze, their eyes so wide I take my sweet time looking at the different shades of green and blue between them. I take a step forward while Dario prepares for another round of hot crocodile tears. We’re two minutes tops from a full meltdown, and despite the news that Orson just threw in my face, I can’t let anybody else’s day be miserable. Not with Christmas quickly approaching.

“This one here seems like he kind of needs a nap,” I add with an awkward smile. “If there’s one thing I learned from my nieces, it’s to spot the signs of a sleepy tantrum.”

“A sleepy tantrum,” the surfer dude echoes as he measures me with genuine curiosity from head to toe, making me feel rather self-conscious. I am, of course, wrapped in Christmas colors because it’s a Christmas-themed fair and I’m selling Christmas-themed cookies.

I look at all three men with a sense of doubt. “He’s never gotten really cranky before a nap before?”

“He hasn’t been with us that long,” the dark-haired one says. “He just came to stay with us a short bit ago. We’re not really experts at reading him yet.”

“I want Santa!” The kid reminds us he is very much still here.

There’s a story behind Dario, a tragic one, if the hint of sadness in Waylan’s grayish-green eyes is as telling as I think it is.

“How old is he?” I ask.

“I’m four!” Dario shouts, showing me five chubby fingers.

I laugh. “You’re a big boy, too.” I smile at the men with all the softness I can muster. “Trust me, a thirty-minute nap can do wonders for the rest of his day. And yours.”

“I don’t wanna nap! I wanna go to Santa’s Workshop!”

“This is beyond awkward,” the dark-haired man says with a heavy sigh, then steps closer. My heart picks up the pace when a hint of his musky cologne hits my nose. “I’m Sebastian. Sebastian McKenna. These are my close friends and business partners.”

“Waylan Jenkins,” the ginger says.

“Riggs Marley,” the surfer dude introduces himself with a playful half-smile. “And you’ve already met Dario.”

“Well, hello, Dario. I’m Cora. And it’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”

“Is it, though?” Sebastian chuckles, slightly embarrassed.

The boy rushes over and offers to shake my hand. I take it and smile as he gives me a good, firm squeeze. “I wanna see Santa,” he says it again, for good measure. “I don’t wanna take a nap.”

“You guys have somewhere to be?” I ask. “I couldn’t help but overhear, sorry.”

“Yeah, a client meeting. Picked the fair, of all places,” Riggs says with a roll of his eyes. “Our regular sitter couldn’t take Dario, sowe’re trying to figure out the best way to hit two birds with one stone. The kid really wants to visit Santa’s workshop.”

I laugh lightly. “Okay, maybe I can help. What if Dario stays with me while you handle your client meeting, and when you’re done, you can pick him up and take him to Santa’s Workshop.”

The men stare at me with a mixture of confusion and awe.

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