Page 6 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I reply, my eyes stinging with tears.

“But we want to,” he assures me. “The fair’s closing soon. Let us take you home, at least. Or wherever you need to go.”

“We want to talk to you anyway,” Riggs adds.

This piques my interest. “About what?”

“It’s just something we thought up,” he says, as Dario gives a big, loud yawn to signal he’s fully awake. “He’s back, ladies and gentlemen. Ready for Santa’s Workshop, buddy?”

“Yeah!” The kid is quick to pick up where he left off.

Sebastian gives me a wink. “Thank you, Cora. We’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

2

Cora

To my surprise and sheer delight, Sebastian, Waylan, and Riggs keep their word. Toward the end of the fair’s first day, they come back. Dario looks content, holding a large teddy bear while dozing in Waylan’s strong arms. Smears of chocolate surround his mouth, a sure sign he got a few treats from Santa while visiting his workshop.

“How are you holding up?” Sebastian asks.

“I’m just about done for the day,” I say, putting the last of the cupcake boxes in the fridge, then locking each door and cupboard with their assigned keys before placing them in my purse. “I’ll need to bring a few more baked goods in tomorrow. We’ll see how the rest of the week goes.”

The knot in my stomach hasn’t gone away, the grief over potentially losing everything too much to bear. I’ve yet to come to terms with Orson’s decision. Hell, I’m ready to fight him with everything I’ve got, but how? He holds the ultimate power.

“You seem troubled,” Sebastian says. “Did we make a situation worse by leaving Dario in your care earlier?”

“Oh, no, on the contrary. You got my mind off some things,” I say, eager to reassure him. “I’m grateful.”

“No more than we are, trust me,” he replies. “Ready to go home?”

“I am, thank you.”

I double check to make sure everything is locked and secured, then grab my purse and coat and let the gentlemen escort me out.

The drive home is relatively quiet. Dario falls asleep in the backseat, flanked by Waylan and Riggs. As Sebastian drives, I find myself staring at my hands, both quivering slightly in my lap as I try to keep a clear mind, failing miserably at every turn.

“You’re definitely upset about something,” Sebastian notes as we advance up the main boulevard leading to the north side of Madison City. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Honestly, not really. It’s been a hard day,” I reply. “A really hard day. But tell me about your client meeting. What sort of campaign? What do you guys do for a living?”

He smiles subtly, and I spot a hint of a dimple in his cheek. It adds a touch of sweetness to his otherwise stoic profile. “We run a marketing firm. Well, it’s more of a corporation these days since we’ve acquired a few companies over the past six months. Most of them focus on social media marketing. We handle major advertising and online marketing campaigns for big brands. And today, we nailed a really good pitch for the client.”

“Who’s the client?” I ask.

“Haute Parkour. It’s a luxury streetwear brand. They have a flagship store in Parkside Mall.”

“Ugh.” The sound comes out naturally. Orson’s mall. Of course.

Sebastian gives me a curious look. “You don’t like them?”

“I don’t like the owner.”

“Of Haute Parkour?”

I shake my head. “No, of Parkside Mall.”

“Orson St. James? He’s a prick,” Waylan chuckles dryly. “But we’re not doing business with him. Just some of his clients.”

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