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“You have brothers?” he asked, leaning toward me.
I smiled. “Yes, twins. Do you have any siblings?”
“Just a brother,” he said with an odd wince.
“Do you get along well?”
He laughed. His laugh was warm and solid, just like him. I licked my lips.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose,” he said.
“That’s for sure. Try having double the terrorizing,” I said with a grin. I loved my brothers, but they were hard to deal with. I was grateful they were away and not here pestering me.
The first course came out—soup or salad. The waiters stopped at each person and asked what they wanted.
“Soup,” Santa said, without thinking about it.
“Um . . . might be a bad idea,” I said, gesturing to the beard.
“Oh, you’re right. Salad then, please. Dressing on the side.”
For a part-time Santa, he had an authoritarian voice. He had said he was a friend of the family, so maybe he was just doing this as a favor like I had. “So what do you do when you’re not playing Santa?”
He looked a bit uncomfortable under my spotlight. What was with this guy, not wanting to give me his occupation or his real name . . . oh wait, I’d forgotten. He’d said in the hallway that his name was Noah. “I’m a songwriter, Noah,” I offered.
“Oh?” he asked. “Write any I might have heard of?”
Now it was my turn for awkward silences. I’d written most of Dick’s songs, but I didn’t want to bring my ex into the conversation. I took a bit of my salad to delay then I gave in. “I wrote a bunch for my ex-boyfriend.” Dick wouldn’t just get out of my life. “You might have heard of him . . . Dick James.”
“You did?” he asked. “That’s cool. Like this one . . .” He hummed a few verses of one of Dick’s hits.
I nodded, blushing.
“That’s a favorite of mine,” he said. “Did you write anything new for Dick for Christmas?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m afraid he lost access to my songs in the breakup. He was kind of a jerk.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said. He tried to eat his salad, but it was definitely a challenge through the fake mustache and beard.
“I don’t think the kids are looking if you want to . . .” I gestured how he could lift it up and eat underneath.
“Oh, good idea,” he said.
I caught a glimpse of a strong jaw with a bit of a beard as he ate. I was feeling pretty good that Santa was handsome as well as kind under that ridiculous suit. I wondered again what I’d have to do to get him out of it, and then laughed at myself.
Noah
WefinisheddinnerandLily walked with me out into the dining room. She’d been so nice at dinner, talking about her songs and life. She’d certainly painted Dick in a horrible light, although not intentionally. She was honest and forthright about her relationship and her music. As for Dick, I can’t say that I’d expected anything different. He’d always been a bit of a jerk, but that was no reason to take his song.
We walked together through the rooms. I was trying to puzzle out how to get her purse, so I could finish what I came here to do, when someone started hooting.
“I saw Lily kissing Santa Claus,” someone sang, surprisingly off-key for a Sparks.
I looked at Lily and she pointed up. We were underneath the mistletoe. My eyes lingered on her soft pink lips and I suddenly wanted to. Ever since my fantasy in the bedroom, I’d been having uncomfortable thoughts about her. Maybe she was a terrible kisser and it would put me off.Or maybe she’s just as terrific as you’re imagining,said the devil on my shoulder.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
She shook her head.
