Mrs. Saint Nick : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella Read online

  “I can try. Have a seat.”

  Holly settled into an overstuffed chair and proceeded to wait. And wait. Finally she couldn’t contain her impatience any longer. She approached the front desk with what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Have you had any luck finding him?”

  “Nope, none. Poor guy is probably pulling an all-nighter.” He jumped down from his stool and went over to a board filled with keys. Dozens of keys. “Tell you what, why don’t I give you a set of keys to his office and you can wait in there for him. He’s bound to show up eventually.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” Holly asked. “I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble on my account.”

  The elf waved his hand dismissively. “Not to worry, Miss Jamison. Santa said we were to do everything in our power to help you.”

  “That was kind of him.” She had to wonder why Santa hadn’t given his son the same message.

  “Santa’s the best,” the elf said. He held out the tiny gold key. “This is to Nick’s office. Feel free to wait there and don’t worry about returning the key. Keep it.”

  Holly took it. “Thank you so much.” She glanced at the brass name plate on the desk. “Mr. Elpsie, if I can ever return the favor, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  He grinned broadly. “Having you here to help Saint Nick is all I could ever ask.”

  Just what was it about Nick that inspired such devotion and loyalty? But before she could ask, the elf’s phone rang. Holly waved goodbye and headed for Nick’s office.

  To Holly’s immense relief the key slipped easily in the lock and when she gently eased open the door no red, white or green alarm bells went off. “Nicholas?” she softly called out. “Is anyone here?”

  No one was. A small desk lamp that had been left on made that clear. Holly closed the door behind her and took a long look around. The office was one putting green away from being classified as a man cave. Unlike Santa’s office, there was nothing traditional about the decor.

  Holly kicked off her shoes. She took her time examining the room. There were four tall bookshelves on one wall and she pretty quickly realized that the books shelved there fell into one of three categories. Foreign dictionaries and a huge collection of atlases took up the majority of the shelf space, a few books on world cultures were mixed in with them. Several shelves held books on a variety of sports; ice hockey, soccer, football, tennis. Did Nick actually play all these sports?

  Holly glanced at the larger than life portrait of Nick that was on the opposite wall. Her eyes traveled slowly over his form, taking him in a way she never would be able to in person. It wasn’t ogling, she told herself, because that would be totally unprofessional. Still a faint blush stained her cheeks. The man was handsome. Gorgeous actually. Charming as well, and after seeing him in action today she could attest to his being universally well liked. She sighed. She had to admit that Nick came pretty close to her idea of a perfect man. If only he had a work ethic.

  Speaking of work, she needed to do some herself. She crossed to Nick’s desk and surveyed the disarray. Stacks of folders struggled unsuccessfully to contain a small mountain of paperwork. She bit the inside of her cheek. A small part of her mind told her to leave Nick’s files alone. The next time he came into work he could deal with the landslide on his desk himself. But she’d been hired to do a job, hadn’t she? What self-respecting assistant would walk away from an opportunity to help their employer? Especially when said employer was in such desperate need of help?

  Holly glanced up at the clock. It was nearing on eleven o’clock. She sincerely doubted that Nicholas was coming back to work tonight, which gave her several hours to sort through his files. Unsure just where to begin, she pulled a file out of the middle of the stack. It was labeled only with the initials B.C.E. but she didn’t remember hearing about that department earlier. She settled into Nick’s chair and opened the file, ready as she’d ever be to see just what Nicholas Claus did during his work day.

  * * *

  Nick stood at the podium and adjusted the microphone in front of him while the audience finished applauding. Once the room quieted he leaned in just a bit, only very slightly resting on the lectern to affect what he hoped was a charming yet casual demeanor. “Merry almost Christmas,” he said.

  Several hundred people broke into enthusiastic applause just as he’d hoped they would. He smiled. The holiday spirit was alive and well in this room tonight and thank God for that. He needed to score a serious haul. “I’m deeply grateful for the invitation to join your organization for this evening’s festivities. The last few days before Christmas are a hectic time of the year, to say the least, with so many people wrapping up both presents and loose ends. I imagine many of you are preparing to travel so that you can celebrate with family and friends. But I need you to do something for me, well actually, for Santa.”

  Nick paused again as a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. He adjusted his cuff links and then took a sip of water from the water goblet the staff had provided him. He much preferred more casual events but at three hundred dollars a plate he knew this was the place he belonged tonight. “Before I share with you what I want to ask you to do, I’m going to ask you for something else. I want every one of you, yes, every one of you, to close your eyes for just a moment and think back to your best Christmas ever. I’m talking about a moment from your childhood where you experienced the pure essence of Christmas joy.”

  He waited a moment while the partygoers did as he asked. As happened every single time he did this, he saw many smiles appear and more than a few people wipe a tear away from the corner of their eye. “Now I want everyone to turn to the person on their right and share the memory that just warmed your heart.”

  When a low murmur of voices filled the room, Nick discretely moved the cuff of his tuxedo jacket back and peeked at his watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. Surely Holly would have finished dinner with his parents by now. What was she doing? He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the podium. For maximum effect he knew he needed to give everyone a little longer to reminisce before he started speaking again. It was rare for him to feel impatient when he was making an appearance as Nick Kane, the executive director of the Best Christmas Ever Foundation. As much as he loved the North Pole, he also loved coming down below to spread the message that mattered most to him.

  Sensing that it was time for him to take control of the room again, he cleared his throat and began to speak. He’d given this same speech countless times over the years but each time he did he felt both a greater sense of urgency and a stronger belief in his message. Not quite twenty minutes later he was ready to wrap up what he hoped would be a very successful event. “I want to thank you for your generosity. I leave here this evening with a check for seventy-five thousand dollars.”

  He nodded as those gathered broke into applause. “Absolutely, it’s an outstanding amount of money and I’m grateful on behalf of each and every child that your donations will benefit. I only ask you to consider this one fact – there are more than five times that amount of foster care children currently in the U.S. system.” He paused to let that sobering statistic settle in.

  “So you can clearly see that Santa needs your help above and beyond what you’ve contributed tonight. We all know parents are Santa’s secret weapon when it comes to covering the globe in a single night. But what about those children who are separated from their parents? They need you. Santa needs you. I need you, each and every one of you, to promise that you’ll leave here this evening with the intent to personally go out and buy at least one gift for a foster care child so they will be blessed with not only a present, but the knowledge that someone cared enough to remember them.” Nick held up a blue note card for the audience to see. “On each table are cards with the name and address of a local toy store that has generously agreed to stay open for several more hours. I suggest we all move the party there and see what fun we can have providing the best Christmas ever for these kids.”

/>   With a quick wave to an audience already on their feet applauding, Nick left the stage and followed his host out to a waiting town car. He did his best to make small talk as the car wound its way through the darkened streets toward the toy store but he couldn’t stop thinking about Holly. He shouldn’t have left her by herself her first night at the North Pole. Dinner with his parents wouldn’t last more than a couple of hours. What was she going to do for several hours afterward? He hadn’t left her any work to do but hopefully she’d taken the evening off to relax and adjust to her new home away from home. He shook his head. He was worrying for nothing. Holly was probably either curled up in her bed with a good book or fast asleep.

  Chapter Six

  Holly couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Or not seeing, to be more accurate. She flipped through the file folder she was holding one more time to see if she had perhaps missed several pages. A quick review assured she had not glossed over anything. The proof of Nick’s incompetency was in black and white right in her hands.

  Disgusted, she tossed the folder onto his desk. She dropped her head into her hands. She was past tired and getting close to exhaustion but she was also in a state of semi-shock. Christmas was only days away, a very few days at that, and the son of Santa had done precious little to help ensure that millions of children awoke on the twenty-fifth to find Santa had visited while they slept.

  She pushed back from the desk and paced the length of breadth of Nick’s office as her mind whirled with uncharitable thoughts. The plush off-white carpet felt good on her tired and sore feet but the rest of her body buzzed with a less than pleasant energy. Aside from all the questions about how and why Nick had dropped the ball, one question plagued her. Did Santa have any clue just how little his son actually did?

  Ugh. Was she really going to have to find Santa and tell him that his much beloved, not to mention incredibly charming, son was a lazy loaf-about? Not something she relished doing. She flopped down on the leather sofa. Not only would that be a very unpleasant task but there was a high likelihood that Santa would thank her for her observation and then send her packing.

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes but she refused to let them come. What she wanted was just one Christmas that didn’t make her feel alone and empty. If she could bring her skills to the table and use her strengths to improve Christmas for others then she just knew she could hold tight to that accomplishment every year. And darn Nick’s hide, he was not going to stand in between her and what she wanted.

  She glanced up at the clock and then at the telephone. It was late but she knew one person who would be awake. She grabbed the receiver and punched in the number for the reception desk.

  “Elpsie here, glad to be of helpsie,” the voice that answered the phone sang out.

  Holly shook her head. Apparently in the elf world corny was cute. “Good evening, Mr. Elpsie, this is Holly Jamison. I apologize for disturbing you but I wondered if you would be so kind as to leave a message for Jolly to call me first thing in the morning?”

  “No need, Miss Jamison. Jolly is still awake.”

  Holly glanced back up at the clock. “I don’t know if I should disturb her, it’s awfully late.”

  Elpsie laughed. “We elves don’t need half the sleep you humans do. We don’t turn in early and we don’t sleep in either. I’ll give Jolly a jingle and let her know to call you.”

  Except that Jolly didn’t call Holly. Instead, not ten minutes later, she arrived at Nick’s office door dressed in a pink quilted dressing gown. “I’ve come bearing refreshments.” She set a fully laid tea tray on the coffee table. “Tell me you’re up for a cookie.”

  Holly laughed. “Cookies around here seem to be more of the rule than the exception, aren’t they?”

  Jolly poured a cup of steaming hot peppermint tea, dropped two sugar cubes into the brew and handed it to Holly. “We’re definitely living the good life here at the North Pole, that’s for sure.” She poured herself a cup of tea and climbed up on the chair opposite Holly. “Now what is it about Nick that you want to know?”

  Holly stared. “How did you know? Wait, don’t tell me that elves are clairvoyant too? I’m going to develop an inferiority complex very soon.”

  Jolly giggled. “Not clairvoyant, just perceptive.” She took a bite of her star shaped cookie. “Besides, I saw you staring at Saint Nick today like he was some sort of Greek god.”

  Holly choked on her tea. “I did not,” she protested after she quit coughing. “Although I’ll admit he’s incredibly handsome. But I can’t quite figure him out.” She glanced at Jolly to judge the elf’s reaction. If she’d learned anything today it was that the elves were almost fanatical in their devotion to Nick. She needed to tread carefully. “I was hoping you could help me out and answer a few questions for me.”

  “Ask away,” Jolly said.

  So Holly did. She peppered the elf with questions about what precisely Nicholas did all day. Jolly, like a prize winning boxer, neatly side stepped one direct query after another. After fifteen solid minutes of playing what felt like twenty thousand questions, Holly decided it was time to give up. “So basically, Jolly, you’re telling me that Nick’s job is to be effervescent and charming.”

  Jolly shook her head. “That’s not his job, Holly. That’s just who he is as a person.” She set her tea cup on the table. “Look, I know you’re new to all of this but it’s not easy being the son of Santa. Saint Nick holds up pretty well under the strain.”

  “Strain?” Holly was glad she had finished her cookie because she’d have definitely choked over that one. “What strain? He doesn’t do anything that I can tell. Except for this one thing I can’t figure out.” She reached for one of the folders she’d been going through earlier. “It appears to be some project identified only with the initials B.C.E. and nothing else. What precisely can you tell me about this?”

  Her eyes round, Jolly just stared at her. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” she finally said.

  No, not said. Lied. Holly could swear the elf was lying to her. But before she could prod her for details, Jolly hopped down off the chair. With dizzying speed she whisked their tea cups onto the tray and headed for the door. “I’m awfully beat, Holly,” she called over her shoulder. “You might want to hit the sack yourself. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.” And then she disappeared through the office door and out of sight.

  So Nick was up to something. And it must be something rather unsaintly if no one wanted to talk about it. She grabbed a few more folders from his desk and settled back onto the sofa. Fine. If no one wanted to tell her just what the son of Santa was up to, she’d figure it out herself.

  * * *

  The last thing Nick expected to see when he returned to his office that night was his new assistant asleep on his couch but there she was. Nick slid the portrait back into place to cover the hidden entrance to his office before he glanced around. Only one small lamp was on and it cast a warm glow over the room.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw that that Holly had placed a chair squarely in front of the door that led to the hallway. If he’d come in using that door, the only door Holly knew about, it would have toppled over and clattered on the wooden floor. So she wanted to catch him sneaking into his own office, did she? He smiled. The woman was nothing if not dedicated to her work. His eyes traveled to the stack of folders next to her sleeping form. A frown replaced his smile when he realized what she’d been looking through. Unbelievable. She’d found his notes on tonight’s fundraiser.

  As stealthily as a cat he crossed over to the couch and gingerly picked up the stack of files. All but the one held tightly in her hand, that was. Nick’s eyes flicked over her face but he saw no sign she was anything but fast asleep. He knelt down to study her features. Her dark eyelashes were in sharp contrast to her fair skin. Awake or asleep, Holly Jamison was beautiful. Nick decided he much preferred Holly to be awake, watching him with flashes of suspicion in her lovely brown eyes.
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br />   He glanced around the office for a place to hide his files, something he’d never needed to do before. Everyone else at the North Pole knew about his foundation, knew that it was the most important part of his work on behalf of Christmas. There was no way he wanted to be known down below as the son of Santa Claus, or heaven forbid, as the next Santa.

  He much preferred anonymity. Fundraising as Nick Kane, director of the Best Christmas Ever Foundation suited him perfectly. He wasn’t about to risk the chance that Holly would return below after Christmas and blow his cover. People were funny about Santa. They insisted they didn’t believe he existed but they then turned around and told their children he was real. It made little sense but as long as adults continued helping Santa to get gifts under the tree year after year, he wasn’t going to sweat the details. Or let Holly Jamison know about his foundation.

  The only safe place to keep the foundation files was in the passage way. Nick glanced at his portrait and then back down at Holly. Trying to slip them in the passage now was not worth the chance of waking her up. The quickest solution was to shove them under the couch until he had time to properly hide them later. A quick check of his desk revealed that Holly had taken all of the files he’d left out. He shook his head. She worked fast.

  One last glance around the room satisfied Nick that he’d hidden all evidence of his charitable activities. He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, tossed his neck tie onto a chair and slipped his shoes under his desk. When he straightened, his eye caught a glimpse of the chair by the door. Grateful to have avoided Holly’s trap, he returned the chair to its rightful place.

  He took a cream color cashmere blanket from an ottoman and laid it over Holly, letting it fall over her as gently as new snow on a field. She stirred just enough that he was able to gingerly slip the last BCEF folder out of her hands and shove it under the couch. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Crisis averted.