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“Everything, sir?”
He looks as if his Christmases have all come at once as he senses an avalanche of sales heading his way because we both know kids will pick up everything they see and, to be honest, I really hope they don’t prove me wrong.”
He nods with his usual reverence, and I say quickly, “When we leave this department, I want you to arrange for a personal shopper to follow us discreetly, and if she sees my girlfriend look at anything with interest, the same applies.”
“Your girlfriend, sir.” He blinks and narrows his eyes as he peers at Jessica again and as the penny drops, it takes his mouth with him. “But that’s…”
“Do we have a problem, Mr Bennett?”
“No, sir.” He recovers quickly and I say dismissively, “Good. Make sure they are all gift-wrapped and labelled accordingly and delivered to my home by the end of the week.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
As I head off, it amuses me to be inflating my own store’s takings personally. I’ve never been a fan of Christmas and never saw the point of it, but since meeting Jessica and her family, everything changed. I want to make them smile. To drop a little of my own magic into their lives and what’s the point of having billions if I can’t spoil the people I love?
CHAPTER33
JESSICA
I’m a little overwhelmed by everything that’s happened today. It started off badly with the telephone conversation with my sister, followed by the alternative nativity play that ended in utter chaos, and now this. Propelling two excited children around every child’s paradise, all the time trying to manage their expectations, while lusting after the man who made it happen.
I am almost considering waving the white flag of surrender because I’m growing more interested in him by the hour, not shutting my emotions away. He is turning out to be the perfect man, and I’m waiting for the mask to slip and reveal his true identity.
He meets us as we are next in line for Santa and slips his arm around my waist, pulling me close whispering, “Now relax. We deserve an afternoon of fun for once, and all our problems can wait until the morning.”
“That would be good.” I smile up at him and the smouldering look in his eye almost makes me blush, because his intentions are written all over his face. It’s a lot to take in, especially when they are reciprocated, and I am dazzled by the magic dust he has thrown into my eyes.
He is good. I’ll give him that and for once I won’t fight against it and just give in. And why not? I deserve a bit of fun and it is Christmas, after all.
As we enter Santa’s grotto, I encourage Angelina to approach Santa with her hand in Brad’s and watch like a proud mother from the doorway as they tell Santa what they want for Christmas. My heart sinks when I hear Angelina asking for the same doll I broke up a fight for when I was a fairy in this very department and hiss, “Great, now she’ll be disappointed.”
“Why?”
Robert seems confused, and I sigh. “We sold the last one of those a few days ago. Let’s hope Sally planned ahead and there is one wrapped up in their hiding place because that poor child has already been through enough.”
I concentrate on Brad, who asks in a loud voice for the latest games console and my heart sinks. Why is everything so expensive these days? What’s wrong with a chocolate orange and a barbie or toy train? They all want increasingly complicated toys that require a degree to set up and I am already buckling under the pressure of making kids happy. Now I understand what the fight was about, I sympathise because as sure as I’m having second thoughts about Robert, I would have laid my opponent out to get my hands on that doll.
When they finish, I lead the children out while Robert stays behind to thank Santa and as we step out of Santa’s workshop, I walk around the department with the children, loving their youthful enthusiasm for just about everything.
It’s a little strange that a woman with a shopping trolley appears to be following us and everything they touch she throws into it, and I’m frankly disgusted by her obvious lack of planning in making a list, rather than relying on strangers to choose for her.
Robert soon follows us and swings Angelina high in the air, making her squeal before sitting her on the back of a giant pony that apparently does everything but gallop.
“What shall we call him?” He says laughing and Angelina cries, “Donkey, of course.”
“The one from Shrek.” I laugh. “Sally told me they are obsessed with it.”
“Would you like to watch the show tonight?”
Robert asks them and my heart sinks when I remember Sally moaning you couldn’t get tickets for all the money in the world.
The children’s joyful screams echo around fairyland and Robert grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”
As he pulls out his phone, I take him to one side and say tightly, “You can’t promise them the impossible. Honestly, Robert, you really need to get a grip. This is ruining their childhood.”
“What is?”
“You can’t make sweeping statements when vulnerable children are involved. Who knows what trauma the last two days will do to their mental health and if they can’t see Shrek, it will keep them in therapy for years.”
