Page 8 of Filthy Scrooge


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She pressed her glossy red lips together so tightly a white line glowed from her skin.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. And that you get asked that a lot. I don’t like being boring, so I’ll just move on.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Based on the name of your company, and your last name—unless it’s a family thing, which I understand completely—I’m guessing the elf costume isn’t your usual attire?”

Her nostrils flared.

I grinned. Yeah, she really wanted to tell me off. “By my powers of deduction, and being an intuitive man—”

She let out a snort. Her lips did that white line thing again. I much preferred the lush red. She’d worn the same shade last night and I’d dreamed of kissing the red away. I’d also dreamed of my cock wearing that same shade when she took me in her mouth. I wasn’t picky.

Of course, that was a dream and my reality was a little trickier.

I raised a brow. “As I was saying, being an intuitive man, and catching the scent of panic in the air, I’m betting you’re about to give me some bad news.”

“My Santa eloped with my elf.”

It was my turn to press my lips together. “Of all the scenarios in my head, that wasn’t one of them.”

“Welcome to my life. And now there are forty-seven kids arriving at your annual party, with no Santa.”

“You don’t have a backup?”

She tilted her head. “You do realize it’s the twenty-third of December at approximately four in the afternoon.”

“Contingencies always need to be made, Miss Kane.”

“Yes, well this is my final party of the season. And I’ve had two parties a day for the last ten days. I’m all out of Santas and contingencies. Not to mention I normally don’t have to worry about this particular Santa.”

“Had him in your pocket?” When she blanched, I laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No,” she said stiffly. “He was simply my most requested Santa. He’s very good with children, as well as adults.”

“And now, really good with elves. Just how good?”

“Mr. Murdock, I don’t believe that’s an appropriate question.”

“Maybe. But the question’s already out there.”

“I do not fraternize with my employees. He was simply very good at his job. I chose him because I thought I could count on him. And now…”

“Now, no Santa and you’re filling in as the elf.”

She curled her fingers into a fist. “Yes.”

This conversation was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. “And you think my assistant is going to find you a Santa?”

“I was hoping he might have an idea of who to ask. You’re a department store. Perhaps you have a Santa?”

“We do. From the first of the month through the twentieth. After that, the store is simply too busy to support a Santa. People are rushing around to find gifts, not taking snapshots with babies and puppies.”

“You do pictures with puppies?” She waved her hand. “Never mind. Not the point.” She swallowed thickly. “I’ve called every contact I have. I offered double their normal salary. Even triple. Because I know that part of my contract was to supply food and entertainment—aka Santa—for the party.”

“And if you default your contract, we don’t have to pay you.”

Her other hand curled into a fist. “Yes.”

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