Chapter Twelve

ZADE

I ’ve never really felt bad for leaving someone at Eternity for the Floor Masters to take care of. It’s frustrating that the first time I actually want to stay, I don’t have the option to.

Tuesday is my blessed day off from being Santa, and I need to get pretty much all of my work for the week done. There are a few meetings on the schedule too, but I’m hoping I can rush through the rest of them. Half of the meetings I’m scheduled for are just inane small talk anyway.

I made it through the first half of the day, only getting distracted by Clara’s list burning a hole in my pocket a few times. I don’t even know why I brought it with me, or why it feels important to keep it in my pocket instead of in a drawer somewhere. Last night cemented the idea of wanting to spoil her, and it’s refusing to fade. I’ve been known to be a generous Dom on occasion, but it never lasts past the scene.

Now, my mind races with ideas of how to make her dreams come true.

Some of them are admittedly less than PG, but I can’t deny that most of them are about how to make sure her Christmas list gets fulfilled. I don’t talk to her often enough at the mall to make sure she’s getting everything she needs, but I’ve overheard enough of her conversations with her friend in the breakroom to know that she’s struggling. It sounds to me like she puts way too much on her plate, but it also sounds like she’s too stubborn to do anything for herself.

I’ll probably have to set most of this up anonymously, silent gifts from a faceless Elite through Eternity. I just can’t bear the thought of someone else stepping up and giving her what she needs when I can do it without any effort. I want her to be mine , in a way I don’t even really understand. If I have to do it all from behind the scenes to ensure that she’s taken care of—that she’s taken care of by me —then so be it.

The thought sits heavily in my gut. I’ve never wanted to reveal my identity to anyone there before.

It’s not a smart idea, but maybe there’s another way to get what I want. Her list says she wants a job in graphic design, after all.

It would be odd, but the hiring managers wouldn’t dare question me if I told them to post an opening. It would be easier to keep an eye on her if she was working for me. Maybe I can even come up with a personal project I want her to work on, something that’ll keep her close.

If she doesn’t apply, I’ll just have my assistant send her an invitation for an interview. Heidi is getting close to retirement anyway. It would be easier to hire Clara to help out with her tasks and assign her graphic design tasks as she has time for them. I just don’t want her to know I’m the one behind any of it. Regardless if it’s Zaiden the owner of Hawthorne Enterprises, the Santa at Hawthorn Mall, or her Elite, she can’t know. I don’t know why this is so important to me, but I’m not ready for her to make that connection yet. I’m not ready to know what her reaction will be.

Everything is just easier if she doesn’t know who I am.

Still… some part of me—a part that I don’t really understand—is obsessed with keeping her close, keeping her safe. Keeping her happy.

The way she smiles at me when we’re at Eternity makes my whole chest go warm, and I want her to have more reasons to smile like that. I want her to have enough money to fulfill her whole wish list and more. I thought having her a second time would sate my curiosity, my hunger, but it only made her even more pervasive in my thoughts.

I’ve gone from wanting to leave marks on her skin to wanting to make sure she can afford Christmas presents for her grandma, and I realize with a sigh that I don’t just want another night with Clara.

I want more .

Every day since Tuesday has been a fucking nightmare.

I’ve been juggling this stupid Santa gig and my actual fucking job , along with all the stupid shit Gabriela Rockwell and my uncle have been heaping onto my plate with this PR rebrand nonsense. I’m tired and worn thin, and even seeing Clara isn’t enough to buoy my mood.

It’s Saturday, and the mall is packed. There hasn’t been a single lull in the line all day, and half the kids coming to sit on my lap are sneezy and whiny—or worse, both.

Clara leads another kid up the line, and I don’t bother to repress a groan when I see the ice cream cone in his hand. It’s covered in spit, as is about half of his arm, and I can smell the sticky sugar before Clara even lifts him to sit on my lap.

I’m sure I look less than thrilled, and I just don’t have the energy to hide the grimace on my face.

“What do you want for Christmas?” I ask drily, doing my best to keep the kid from actually touching me.

It’s a losing game, his hands waving wildly in excitement as he babbles on in half formed child-speak about some stupid slime kit he wants. He leaves a sticky trail of half melted ice cream in my fake beard, across the cheap faux velvet of the Santa coat, trying his best to get it on my cheek too.

“Smile, Santa!” Clara calls out.

The camera shutter clicks when she takes the picture. I’m more baring my teeth than smiling.

Clara looks less than thrilled as she marches over to collect the boy.

“Come on, Cole!” she says brightly, even as she glares daggers at me. “Let’s go show Mommy and Daddy your picture with Santa!”

I breathe out a sigh of relief as she guides the walking mess back down the aisle away from me. Who would have thought playing Santa would be this exhausting?

When Clara turns back toward me after passing the boy off to one of the other elves, I sit up a bit straighter. Considering the line stretching out behind her, I don’t think she’s coming to tell me it’s time for lunch.

“Santa,” she grits out as she gets within earshot. “I’m going to give you a single minute to get your grumpy ass under control.”

I blink at her in surprise as she stalks even closer, hissing the words under her breath as she needlessly rearranges some of the decor behind me to appear as if she isn’t ripping me a new one.

“Sorry?”

“You should be! A lot of these kids care about this more than you can possibly imagine,” she snaps at me, her eyes wide and genuinely angry. “This is the happiest moment of their whole year .”

I’m more cowed than I’d like to admit by the unveiled fury on her face, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll just roll over and take it. There’s no way that sitting on a stranger’s lap and asking for presents can be that important.

“Come on,” I scoff, keeping my voice quiet to match hers. “You’re exaggerating. This is just?—”

“I’m not .” She cuts me off without any remorse, and I’m surprised to see her hands clench around one of the foam candy canes hard enough to dent it. “Christmas is the only time some of these kids get anything other than the bare necessities. Some of them will get toothpaste in their stockings, and they’ll be thrilled that Santa showed up at all. The least you and your shitty attitude can do is smile.”

She whirls on her heel and walks away before I have a chance to do more than blink in shock. I’ve never seen her this assertive about anything, and I’m a little taken aback by it.

I do wince at the thought of what her life growing up must have been like for her to be so adamant about this. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I hear from that PI.

Refusing to see the angry, pain-laced look in her eyes for a moment longer, I steel my spine and decide to try a new approach.

My smile feels entirely too fake, but I force it to my face nonetheless as Clara starts up the aisle again. A young girl follows quietly behind her, hand in Clara’s. Her big brown eyes are blown wide and she looks both nervous and excited, like she’s about to meet someone she idolizes. Maybe Clara knows more about this whole thing than I gave her credit for.

“Hi there,” I say when Clara leads the girl up the steps. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Jackie,” she says, her voice so quiet I almost can’t hear her.

“Hi, Jackie. I’m Santa Claus,” I say, ignoring how ridiculous the whole thing feels. “Would you like to tell me what you want for Christmas?”

I extend my hand, forcing my smile to stay firmly in place. It’s a little surprising to watch some of the nerves fade as little Jackie drops Clara’s hand and takes mine. She clambers up onto the massive Santa chair, fitting beside me instead of on my lap, and folding her feet beneath her as she looks at me in awe.

Clara steps back slowly, blinking in surprise at the sudden shift in my demeanor.

I do know how to charm people, kids included, I just almost never find it a good use of my time.

“I—I want a pony, please,” Jackie says, her cheeks flushing red as she glances back toward her parents where they wait in line. “Daddy said I can’t have one because we don’t have a big backyard, but I’d take really good care of her.”

A pony, huh? I figured most kids these days wanted brand new phones or something, but that’s about as traditional of a Christmas request as you can get. It’s actually kind of cute.

“Santa will have to talk to your dad,” I tell her, chuckling. “I’m sure we can come to a compromise.”

I tap the side of my nose and wink at her with a grin. That’s a thing Santa does, right? I feel like I’ve seen that in commercials or something. Jackie giggles, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

I’m surprised to see Clara walking up to collect her already. I didn’t even realize she took the picture.

I put effort into actually talking to kids and making it a special experience for the rest of the day. It makes the hours fly by instead of drag, and I don’t feel as drained as I usually do as I make my way back to the break room.

Fuck if I’m not still definitely ready to get the hell out of this costume and get home.

I toss my gloves and the stupid shoe covers into my locker as the other elves hang their accessories up and file out.

“Santa?” Clara asks, her voice soft and tentative.

She’s standing behind me, wringing her hands together, back in her street clothes, leaving her in a wool sweater and khakis that make me just as hungry for her as the skimpy little dresses she wears at Eternity do.

“I—uh, I wanted to apologize,” she says. “For yelling at you, I mean. That was inappropriate.”

Don’t tell her it was hot .

“It’s fine.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” she says firmly, frowning. “I’m sorry.”

The last thing I expected was an apology. People don’t make a habit of offering them to me. Probably because most wouldn’t dare scold me the way she did.

“Really, it’s fine.”

She laughs, awkwardly scratching at the nap of her neck as she nods.

“Right, well, sorry anyway,” she says. “And thank you. You did a really good job with the kids after that.”

Actually, I expect her to thank me about a million times less than I expect an apology. I can’t even remember the last time someone thanked me for doing something, especially after having to yell at me to actually do it.

“Thanks.” The word comes out choked, and I drop my eyes, hoping that she won’t see the shock on my face. “Uh, you too.”

“Have a good night, Santa,” she says, a shy smile on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

I watch her walk away as confusion whirls in my head. She glances over her shoulder at me and offers me a friendly wave before stepping out of the room. Maybe this whole thing isn’t so bad if it gets me closer to Clara. Even putting real effort into my role today wasn’t so draining with Clara smiling at me and actually thanking me.

I know I’ll be seeing her tonight at Eternity, but the thought of seeing her tomorrow is just as appealing, even if I have to wear a ridiculous costume.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I’d be willing to do a lot to keep those pretty blue eyes on me.