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“Yes,” I say, surprised at my honesty. “You could be the one assaulted out here, dressed like that.”
He glances down at his outfit and back up at me. “I’ll be in in a minute.”
I smack my palm against the edge of the door and walk inside, shutting it behind me. I can’t believe I just invited my boss inside my apartment. And he wants me to call himNick.
A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of him coming to my rescue, of his hand on my lower back at the event, and of the way his eyes roved my body when I first walked up.
It’s not appropriate to have my boss over, even for a minute.
But neither is fantasizing about him tonight, and if I’m going to commit one sin, I might as well commit another before morning.
4
Nicholas
I’m crossing so many boundaries tonight that I need to be fired. The CEO needs to bring down the hammer and crush my hands for what I want to do with them - for how I want to touch my assistant and undress her from thatfuckingcorset and thatfuckingskirt.
She’s been a distraction since we hired her in January, but I’ve been good. Santa would be proud that I haven’t made a move on her in eleven months, despite the temptation.
But tonight, I’m not Nicholas Armatti. I’mSaint Nick, or as Jules has been affectionately calling me tonight,Sexy Santa.
I’ve always known that the annual charity event is popular because of who we assign to dress as Santa. We rotate the duty each year to one of the branch managers, and this year happens to be my turn. It’s up to the branch manager to choose who their assistant is, and I’ve had my eye on Julie for months.
I just didn’t want to cross the line. I’m a man of principle. I follow the rules.
But Julie makes me want to break every single one of them.
“Tea? Coffee? I’m out of the hard stuff,” she jokes as I shut the front door behind me. Out of habit, I lock the deadbolt, then wonder if that will bother her.
Oh well. It’ll help keep her safe from everyone but me.
If she notices the door lock, she doesn’t comment.
“I’ll have whichever is your favorite.” Now that we’re inside, the velvet coat and pants are too warm to be comfortable. While Julie’s back is turned, I undo the front robe and take it off, hanging it on the back of her bar stool before taking a seat.
When she turns around with a tray of various tea flavors in hand, she nearly drops them all. “Oh! You’re—”
“Hot,” I murmur, resting my forearms on the bar top. “I hope you don’t mind.” I’m not naked, but the black tank top leaves little room for imagination if she ever wondered what I looked like shirtless.
She swallows thickly and shakes her headno, setting down the tray in front of me and silently gesturing for me to pick one. I want to try her favorite, so I pick the flavor that’s nearly gone: a citrus white tea. To my delight, she chooses the same bag for herself and sets up two mugs while the electric kettle bubbles.
I’ve spent all night listening to children’s holiday wishes. The new doll. A new smart phone. A puppy. Most of them chose a material thing to wish for, and part of our company’s job when running the event is to match all donations given so that every single child who makes a wish receives what they asked forandwe donate another gift of similar value to a family in need.
This isn’t my first year playing Santa. But it’s the first year I haven’t focused on the children’s wishes. Instead, I kept my eye on the dazzling blonde assistant giving everyone her best smile but me.
Throughout the night, one question kept repeating in my head. And now I have the chance to actually ask it.
“What do you want for Christmas, Julie?”
She flinches like I just asked her to choose between stepping on a bed of hot coals or kicking a puppy. “Why are you asking me that?”
Stretching my injured hand, I feel for any broken bones. “Because I want to know. I spent all night listening to children’s wishes. Now I want to know yours. Indulge me.”
Her hand hesitates as she grabs the popped kettle. After a second, she unfreezes and pours us each a cup of hot water over our tea bags.
“A family,” she says softly, turning around to lean against the counter and wrap her arms around her chest in a self-given hug. “I’ve always wanted a family of my own, with two little kids running around at Christmastime.” She smiles as though the idea is a fond memory, something she’s already dreamed countless times. “And a husband who adores us and makes me breakfast in bed. Kisses me awake every morning.” Her smile falters and faint tears start to well in her eyes, but she regains her composure almost immediately.
Just not fast enough for me not to notice.
