Page 21 of Daycare Santa

Gina would cater for roughly two hundred people, including clients and staff. It was an easy enough job, until the event got off to a late start and the company liaison asked Gina to hold the food.

Watching the minutes tick by on her watch didn’t help, and she hesitated to call Wintertime, hoping she’d be able to pick up Luca at a decent hour by some miracle. By the time she called, Gina was miserable.

“It happens,” Emily said, sounding as if they weren’t being inconvenienced when Gina knew the opposite.

“I’m so, so sorry. I’ll be there in another half-hour.”

“We’ll be here.”

Gina did a last walk-through and deputized Tara, who’d been working for her the longest, next to Summer. Then she blazed a slow trail to Wintertime, fuming in traffic and despairing she’d arrive before nightfall.

Dusk had settled over the city when she pulled into the driveway at Wintertime and claimed a parking space. She leaned against the seat and closed her eyes. After the fuss she’d made about the dog, here she was being a problem parent on the first day of enrolment.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she nearly dislocated her shoulder pushing the front door, which was locked. She pressed the buzzer, waited for the response that signaled the lock was disengaged, and pulled the handle to let herself in.

Zack stood at the counter, with Luca by his side. Instead of being tired and cranky as she expected, Luca bounced on his heels. “Mommy, Uncle Zack taught me how to make cartoons.”

“He did?” Her focus went to Zack, who watched her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was creepy.Or, he’s interested in you.Her gaze slid to Luca when he answered.

“Yes, I’m going to get my bag and lunch kit. Then I’ll tell you all about it.”

From the way he stretched the word all, Gina knew he’d talk on the entire the way home.

When he blasted through the door, she cried, “You don’t need to run.”

“I doubt he heard that,” Zack said, chuckling.

“You must be super-annoyed right now, but the function started late and—”

“You’re good.” He put up both hands with the palms facing her. “Trust me.”

“I don’t want you to think this is how I do business.”

“It’s Christmas. Traffic is hellish.” He shrugged. “These things happen.”

“Thanks for understanding, but I—”

“If you insist on apologizing, I can suggest a way for you to make this up to me.”

She frowned, suspecting he’d suggest something inappropriate. Eyes narrowed, she asked, “What could that possibly be?”

---