Page 224 of Daddy's Naughty List

A Little Christmas Carnival

By Lucky Moon

Chapter One

Lulu

It wasn’t the best illustration she’d ever completed. But at least it was done.

Louisa Hart gazed at her creation, a whimsical scene that seemed to come to life on the page. In the center, Santa Claus stood in all his jolly glory, his red suit vibrant against the snowy backdrop. His rosy cheeks beamed with warmth, and his eyes twinkled like freshly fallen snow under a starlit sky. Beside him stood a majestic reindeer, its antlers adorned with shimmering tinsel and its fur the color of cinnamon. The creature's eyes held a wise gleam, as if it knew secrets of the winter night that whispered through the pines.

The background was just as rich as the foreground. Snowflakes danced around the figures, delicate and crystalline, each one a tiny masterpiece. A full moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the landscape, while patches of holly dotted with scarlet berries added splashes of color.

The funny thing was, that even though Christmas was a few weeks away, Lulu was already drawing cards for next year’s holiday season.

Just like always, Lulu couldn’t live in the moment. She was always looking to what was next, what was just around the corner, or thinking about something else, or what could have been. For example, when she ate her breakfast, she was already planning what to have for lunch. When she went to bed, she was mentally making to-do lists for the next day. Even when she tried to relax or meditate, her mind never stopped whirring. In fact, at those times, it was even worse.

“I should probably stop preparing for next Christmas now,” she said, sighing to herself. She leaned back in her ergonomic office chair and glanced around her sleek studio apartment. Modern furniture, stainless steel appliances, a wall of windows overlooking the skyline—it was the picture of success for a twenty-something in the city.

But she didn’t feel successful. She felt empty. She rose and crossed to a bookshelf, trailing slender fingers over the spines of graphic novels and art books. Tucked behind them was an old shoebox. Lulu retrieved it and curled up on the plush sofa, gently opening the lid.

Inside lay a collection of treasures—a glittery gel pen, a stack of coloring pages, a half-finished friendship bracelet. And there, nestled in the corner, was Flopsy. Lulu scooped up the stuffed bunny and hugged him close, burying her face in his matted blue fur. Tension eased from her shoulders as she let out a shuddering breath.

"Oh Flopsy, sometimes I wish. . . "

Her voice trailed off.Wish I could be Little all the time, not just in secret. Wish I could find people who understand. Wish I wasn't so afraid.

Lulu set Flopsy beside her and pulled out a frayed composition notebook, flipping through pages of looping handwriting and doodles. Her most private thoughts, dreams, and fantasies were spilled across the paper.

If only she could be this open in the "real world" and not hide such an integral part of herself. But the fear of judgment, of losing hard-earned respect, always held Lulu back. So she escaped into her imagination, into this box of treasures, whenever she could.

Alone.

Glancing at her watch, Lulu sighed once more and carefully packed away her Little things, putting the shoebox into her backpack so she would have it with her over the holidays. She had an end-of-year meeting to get ready for. One last bit of work before her holiday break. Time to be "on" again. Smoothing her chestnut waves, Lulu squared her shoulders and prepared to step back into her professional persona.

But inside, her Little heart ached for so much more.

The conference room buzzed with heated discussion as Lulu sat quietly, her emerald eyes fixed on the doodle-filled paper before her. She had stopped listening to the bickering voices long ago, her mind drifting to happier thoughts—frolicking in open fields, cuddling Flopsy, feeling truly free.

"Louisa? Hello, earth to Louisa!"

Her boss’s sharp tone jolted her back to the present. Lulu looked up to find all eyes on her, some irritated, others curious. Heat crept into her cheeks.

"Sorry, I was just, uh, brainstorming some ideas," she mumbled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "What was the question?"

Mark, her boss, sighed. "We were discussing the direction for the Easter cards. I thought you had some strong concepts, but now. . . " He raised an eyebrow at her doodle-covered notepad.

Lulu's stomach clenched. He didn't understand her process, how letting her mind wander often led to her most creative breakthroughs.

"I do have ideas," she said, hating the tremor in her voice. "Just give me a chance to?—"

"We don't have time for daydreaming," Mark cut her off. "We need concrete plans, Louisa, not. . . " He waved a dismissive hand at her drawings.

Frustration surged through Lulu, hot and pulsing. The people here never truly listened, never tried to see things from her perspective. Mark even refused to call her by the name she preferred. Told her “Lulu” was unprofessional.

Bullcrap.Hewas the unprofessional one. Ruling his staff with cruelty, not kindness. There had to be a boss out there who was firm but also fair. Who genuinely cared about their staff members and understood that nurturing each individual’s special talents led to a win for the whole team.

Sadly, Mark was not that boss. None of her bosses had ever been that boss.

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