Page 2 of Naughty Santa

Paris turned to see a gray-haired woman standing next to an ancient pickup truck that was older than she was.

Oh God.

That wasn’t her ride, was it?

No. Please, no.

But just then, another frigid blast of air hit her in the face, and she changed her mind.

Fuck it. She needed to get off this sidewalk.

“Is that you, honey?”

Paris grabbed the handle of her runaway suitcase, took a fortifying breath—that almost froze her lungs into two solid ice cubes—and walked over to the woman.

“Yes. I’m Paris,” she said warily.

The woman shocked her by wrapping her up in a tight bear hug that ended when Louis, who was being squished, yipped.

The woman released her, her eyes going wide when she spotted Louis. “Well, look at that. You’ve got a puppy in your purse.”

Paris nodded numbly; the cold was starting to freeze her blood. And then, because God hated her, another big gust of wind kicked up, whipping her beret off her head. She turned and watched the adorable red cashmere she had purchased a few days ago as an accent piece for her new winter wardrobe fly away.

She didn’t even bother to chase it. Instead, she blinked rapidly against the tears of frustration that threatened. She didn’t dare cry here because she really didn’t want her eyes to freeze shut.

“What a shame,” the woman said. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll get you another hat. One that’ll cover your ears and keep you warm.”

As she spoke, Paris saw her gaze slide down, taking in her Dolce and Gabbana cropped cheetah print coat.

“We’ll get you a coat too. I’m Sandy, the one you talked to on the phone last week.”

“Oh,” Paris said in surprise. “When you said someone would pick me up, I didn’t realize it would be you. I hope I didn’t put you out.”

“Not a bit,” Sandy reassured her. “We better get you inside the truck. Your lips are starting to turn blue.”

Paris glanced around to see if there were any airport employees who could help her lift her bags into the truck, but before she could wave someone over, Sandy had taken the handles of both suitcases and dragged them to the back of the truck.

“Let me get someone—” She stopped as she watched Sandy sling both of her pushing-the-weight-limit suitcases into the truck bed. “Um. Wow. You’re strong.”

Sandy grinned. “Been working at the Holly Jolly Feed and Seed with your great-aunt Lydia for close to thirty years. Those bags of feed don’t move themselves.”

Sandy’s smile faded, and she quickly swiped at her eyes. “That place just isn’t the same without Lydia.” She looked at Paris, who got the sense Sandy expected some show of emotion. Paris nodded sadly but said nothing.

What could she say? She’d never met Aunt Lydia, though she had received a birthday card from her every single year of her life, always with a brand-new five-dollar bill in it. The card and cash had been thrilling when she’d been a kid, but as she got older, she’d started to roll her eyes and wonder why her great-aunt bothered. Paris felt bad about that now, especially when it was obvious Sandy had truly loved the woman Paris’s dad called Kooky Lydia.

Not that her dad meant that name cruelly or even literally. It was just because, well, the fact Aunt Lydia owned a combination Christmas shop and Feed and Seed store sort of opened her up for comments like that.

Paris glanced at the words, Holly Jolly Feed and Seed emblazoned on the side panel door of the truck as she climbed in, placing Louis in between herself and Sandy, who was sliding behind the wheel.

“Is it okay to drive in this weather?” Paris looked out at the snow which seemed to have started coming down heavier in the last few minutes. She reached up to shake the flakes from her now-wet hair.

Sandy grinned. “This is nothing more than a flurry. I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of snow in California.”

“Not where I live,” she answered.

“What a shame,” Sandy said, and for a moment, Paris thought she must be joking. Then she realized the older woman meant it.

Mercifully, the old pickup had a functioning heater, and within minutes, Paris started to thaw. Louis had curled up in a ball and was sleeping peacefully in his carrier.

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