Page 20 of Sexy Claus

Determined to hide her identity from the snobs who’d tried to bully her from kindergarten to graduation, Christy stood her ground. “I don’t know anything about a waiting list, but I was asked by one of the organizers and it was okayed by Mrs. Barber. Are you here to help with the cookie decorating?”

“What? No, of course not!” The former homecoming queen scrunched up her nose and lifted her chin. “I’m in charge of the retail shop, the biggest moneymaker of the—”

“Sorry, we’re late!” Two girls and two boys who looked to be college-aged rushed through the door. The shorter of the young women whipped off her ski jacket. “The dog threw up, my tights got a hole in them, and then there was a traffic jam where they’refixing the pothole at the intersection in front of Lorenzo’s. I’m Anna. My friends are Isaiah, Grace, and Byron. Hey, Mrs. Potter. You look…different. Did you have some work done?”

The look the mean-girls ringleader leveled at Anna should’ve turned her to ash.

“Oh, and the principal is looking for you. He said to tell you to get down to the store right now if we saw you.”

Whirling on her no-doubt designer shoes, the blonde bully motioned for her cohorts to follow her. “Don’t think this is the end of it. I’m going to have a talk with the mayor.”

Anna snorted as the trio made their grand exit. “Talk? More like do the nasty with. I swear she’s cheated on her husband with every willing guy in town.”

Christy extended her hand to her savior, hoping to conclude that topic. “I’m Mrs. Claus. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for volunteering.”

The young man with glasses unzipped his coat and shrugged it off. “Brenna was always nice to us in school, even though we were three years behind her. We’re happy to help with the fundraiser whatever way we can.”

“Who’s collecting tickets? There’s a bucket here with the extra frosting and sprinkles.” Christy stepped aside to let her helpers stow their winterwear by the storage closet. Rattling alerted her to the first cookie delivery from the connected kitchenettes next door and the imminent arrival of their patrons. “The Cookie Kitchen opens for business in two minutes.”

A steady stream of children, teenagers, and adults kept her and her team busy for the entire two-hour slot, and the full bucket suggested a decent number of residents had shown up to support the event, the community, and one of their own.

She boxed up the few remaining cookies, added what was left of the frosting and sprinkles, and set it on the cart the bakers would retrieve soon. The rest of the crew had promised to takecare of table cleanup so she could grab lunch and a potty break before pictures with her make-believe husband.

After a last scan of the room, she picked up the bucket of counted tickets by the handle and headed for the door. “Thank you so much for volunteering. You were great with the kidsandthe parents. Be sure to stop by the hot cocoa booth tonight. My treat.”

“Thanks!” All four of her elves sang out their appreciation in unison.

Anna dumped a placemat of sprinkles into the trashcan and grinned. “You make an awesome Mrs. Claus. I hope the Cause Committee asks you to do it again next year. See you tonight!”

Offering a noncommittal nod, Christy turned left into the corridor. She wouldn’t be here next year to play the role she’d been roped into by Brenna. She wasn’t even sure about going to tonight’s festivities. A spark of regret burned in her stomach, but staying wasn’t part of her plan. It never had been.

Get in. Get the job done. Get out.

That was her mantra.

She stayed in character on the brisk walk to the opposite side of the building. When the coast was clear, she checked her phone to see if she had time for a restroom stop before lunch.

12:08. Food first. I’ll just have to eat fast.

Brenna rolled into the hallway as Christy hurried toward the teachers’ lounge. “You didn’t get lost, did you?”

Holding up the bucket, Christy shook her head. “We still had a few people in line at noon and I wanted to make sure everyone got to decorate a cookie. Here are the tickets. One of the helpers counted them.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Brenna reached for the handle. “I’ll take that. Go eat while you can.”

“You’re welcome.” Grateful for the short break, Christy headed into the mostly empty room and straight to the tableof boxed lunches. She chose the turkey wrap option, pulled a bottled water from the small refrigerator, and sat facing the window.

The silence lasted only a few seconds before Brenna greeted whoever was impersonating the main attraction. “Hey, Santa. Help yourself to the free food. There’re drinks too. Coffee, iced and hot tea, water. Twenty minutes until wishes and pictures.”

A heavy sigh warned Christy that Santa wasn’t in a very jolly mood. “Kids only.No. Adults.”

Her pulse stuttered at the unexpected voice.

Sven Carlsen was Santa Claus.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hopinghis daughter followed through on her promise, Sven refilled his insulated mug with coffee and added two creamers before moving down to the stack of lunches. He tucked a box under his arm, picked up his drink, and stalked to the seat across from Janice Barber in her Mrs. Claus outfit.

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