Page 48 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
“No, but?—”
“In this case, I brought the restaurant to you. So I am happy to clean up. Please, madam. Sit.”
She sinks back into her chair with a sweet smile on her face.
I get busy with a few tasks. “Let me just fasten a few lids… Recork the wine… Oh, looks like you have one sip left in your glass, miss.”
Glass, of course, is generous. I hand her the plastic stemware we’ve been enjoying tonight. She swallows the last bit of wine and places the cup back on the table.
“Prepare for amazement,” I say. “A guy who grew up in the city knows how to picnic.” With that, I grab and lift all four corners of the tablecloth, then twist the entire spread into a makeshift satchel.
“Whoa!” She laughs.
“Efficiency is key.” I stand and sling the contraption over my shoulder. “If you’re concerned with how I will dispose of this, don’t be. I promise to rinse and dispose of all recyclables properly when I return to my apartment.”
“I have full faith in you, sir. Thanks again for the lovely night.”
“You bet.” I wink and head for the door.
“Hey, Matt?
“Yeah?” I turn around to face her again.
“I’d love to choreograph your spicy nectarine fairy dance with your students.”
“Really?”
“I mean, if you’ll still have me, of course,” she says.
“Hmm.” I pretend to consider it. “Technically, it’s a salty peach dance, not a spicy nectarine.”
She laughs.
“But what the hell? I’m up for some rewrites.” I wink. “I look forward to partnering with you, Penny.”
Chapter 13
Penny
“He’s a natural, isn’t he?” Keira says as we watch Matt navigate his first day in Santa’s Village.
For the past hour, he’s deftly navigated happy children, sad children, way-too-curious children—I’m still laughing thinking about the kid who asked him what he does when he has to poop while flying on his sleigh—and terrified children who want nothing to do with him. One by one, I’ve watched him win over the scared ones, telling them so sweetly they don’t have to talk to him—and they certainly don’t need to sit on his lap—if they don’t want to. He always seems to know just what to say to calm them down.
“He really is,” I say back to Keira.
“How about you stand here next to Rudolph?” Matt suggests to one particularly traumatized child who looks to be around four years old. He points at Herald’s lifelike statue of Rudolph, complete with a blinking red nose, standing attention next to his elaborate Santa throne.
The little girl digs in her heels and refuses to move. Her mother stands a few feet away, her disappointment palpable.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Matt tries a new approach. “I don’t tell just anyone this. But you seem like a really cool kid, so I think you can handle the information.”
The little girl’s face lights up, her tears suddenly gone. I mean, what little kid doesn’t want to hear a secret?
She nods.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Hayleigh,” she says in a tiny voice.
