Chapter 13
Penny
“He’s a natural, isn’t he?” Keira says as we watch Matt navigate his first day in Santa’s Village.
For the past hour, he’s deftly navigated happy children, sad children, way-too-curious children—I’m still laughing thinking about the kid who asked him what he does when he has to poop while flying on his sleigh—and terrified children who want nothing to do with him.
One by one, I’ve watched him win over the scared ones, telling them so sweetly they don’t have to talk to him—and they certainly don’t need to sit on his lap—if they don’t want to.
He always seems to know just what to say to calm them down.
“He really is,” I say back to Keira.
“How about you stand here next to Rudolph?” Matt suggests to one particularly traumatized child who looks to be around four years old. He points at Herald’s lifelike statue of Rudolph, complete with a blinking red nose, standing attention next to his elaborate Santa throne.
The little girl digs in her heels and refuses to move. Her mother stands a few feet away, her disappointment palpable.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Matt tries a new approach. “I don’t tell just anyone this. But you seem like a really cool kid, so I think you can handle the information.”
The little girl’s face lights up, her tears suddenly gone. I mean, what little kid doesn’t want to hear a secret?
She nods.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Hayleigh,” she says in a tiny voice.
“Nice to meet you, Hayleigh. I’m Santa. But you probably already knew that.”
She nods.
“Can you come a tiny bit closer, Hayleigh?”
She takes two timid steps forward, barely moving an inch.
“Perfect,” Matt says seriously, like she did exactly as he asked. He squats down to her level and lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Okay, here’s the thing, Hayleigh. Most people think Rudolph’s only magic trick is flying Santa’s sleigh. But did you know he can also read people’s minds?”
The little girl’s eyes go wide. “Really?” she whispers in wonder. Her mother’s face breaks out into a relieved smile.
“Totally!” Matt continues. “Rudolph is a super intuitive guy. So listen, if you want to tell Santa what’s on your Christmas wish list, all you have to do is stand real close to Rudolph and touch his ear.”
“That’s it?” she asks.
“That’s it! If you do that, he’ll instantly know what you want, and he’ll give me and the elves the scoop later. What do you say? Wanna try?”
She nods enthusiastically, her brown curls bouncing.
“Awesome! Go for it, Hayleigh.”
As the little girl confidently sidles up beside Rudolph and squeezes the statue’s ear, Matt stands on the opposite side of the reindeer, signaling to the Herald’s photographer that we’re ready for the shot.
A few camera snaps later, the delighted mother and daughter head to the kiosk to purchase their photos, smiling and waving to us all as they go.
Dottie rushes up to the village, then, slightly out of breath. “Sorry I’m late, team. I guess my morning got away from me.” Her eyes dart toward the huge candy cane display where Leo stands. He blows her an adorable kiss. Dottie catches it.
“Excuse me, Dorothea,” I say. “Did you have a sleepover with Mr. Leo?”
She smiles sheepishly. “Well, it was our third date.”
“Third date?” I ask. “What’s the significance of a third date?”
Keira gasps. “Penelope Whitaker—”
“For the last time, Keira, my full name is was and always will be Penny. Penn or even Penn-Penn is fine. But no ‘el-oh-pee’ is necessary.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She gasps again for good measure. “Penny Whitaker, I have been married for eleven years, and even I know the third date rule!”
“What?” I say, unimpressed. “Everybody bangs on the third date?” I pause. “Dottie! You banged on the third date!?”
“Could you keep your voice down, please?” Dottie hisses. “There are families and children around!”
“No, there aren’t,” Keira says. She nods toward the line of grown women waiting for Matt. “We just saw our last kid for the first block. Adult hour is next.”
It occurs to me that, as Matt’s official handler, I should really be handling him better this morning, but honestly, I’m having a hard time looking directly at him since our impromptu Thanksgiving meal.
Why is that?
“Hey, Matt!” I call him. “You can take five. Get some water, a snack, do a few push-ups… whatever it is a guy like you needs to do.”
Whatever a guy like you needs to do?
Geez. Could I be any less friendly right now?
Matt, always brimming with positive energy, gives me a silent salute and heads into Santa’s House, the brightly decorated hut Herald’s assembles every year so our Santas can take a breather.
“Ladies?” I take a few steps toward the line. “Santa is on a five-minute break. He’ll be with you shortly.”
“Oh, we’ll wait,” a woman purrs. Upon closer inspection, I realize her T-shirt reads “Hot 4 Santa.”
What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?
I return to Dottie and Keira, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that just ran through me. So a bunch of women are about to sit on Matt’s lap. Who cares? Certainly not me.
“Alright, Dottie the Hottie, tell us everything,” I say.
Dottie’s face breaks into a huge smile. “Yes, the rumors are true! I banged on the third date! Wait. Is banged correct English? Maybe I bung on the third date?”
“Bung isn’t a word, but good for you, girl! This is huge!” We high-five.
“So? How was it?” Keira asks. “Has sex changed any in the past decade?”
“Oh, honey, it’s been more than a decade,” Dottie says. “Arthur left fifteen years ago, and we weren’t intimate for at least three years before that.”
“I was sort of asking for me,” Keira says glumly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bring down the sex celebration.”
“Had you and Tagg not had sex in ten years?!” I say much louder than I intend to.
“Shhh!” Keira whacks me with her clipboard. “Are you kidding me? No. We had sex all the time. We had it last week, in fact. I was just thinking it must be wild to be with someone new after so long. Tagg has been my one and only. It’s always just been in and out, in and out…”
“Alright, honey, we don’t need visuals,” Dottie shields her eyes.
“Keira,” I say firmly. “Why on earth did you sleep with Tagg last week? I thought it was over?”
“Me too!” she says. “I mean, it is. It is over.”
“So?” I press. “How did it happen?”
“How did it happen?” Keira repeats, like she’s asking herself the same question. “Well, he’s been staying in a rental since I found out about his… Gosh, his…”
“His affair.” I fill the word in for her.
“Can we not use that word?” She winces. “Unless we’re talking about an actual party?
‘Oh, my husband had an affair.’” Keira puts on a fancy, upper-crust kind of voice.
“No, he didn’t, Nancy! He fucked another woman.
That’s what he did!” She pauses. “I’m sorry Dottie.
We’re way off track. Let’s talk about you and Leo. ”
Dottie places a kind hand on her shoulder. “Plenty of time for that, hon. Continue.”
“You sure?”
“Completely sure. Go on.”
“So he came over the other night to have dinner with me and the kids. It was nice, you know? For a few hours, we felt like a family again. Then, after the kids went to bed, we just… fell into old habits, I guess.”
“Oh, Keira,” I say.
“I know!” she groans. “Revoke my feminist card immediately, please!”
“Was it at least worth it?” I ask gently.
“Hell no!” she says. “I gave him a blow job, we had sex for five minutes, then it was over, with no orgasm for me. As usual. Only difference was this time I had a side dish of guilt and abandonment-of-self to go along with it.”
I give her a look.
“I’ve been listening to self-help podcasts nonstop,” Keira explains. “Apparently, I’m an abandoner of self.” She looks around and shakes her head. “Whatever. Thanks for listening, but I shouldn’t be talking about this at our place of employment.”
“Maybe not?” I say. “To be fair, though, the rules of this place feel murky ever since we incorporated sexy Santa time.”
Case in point.
At that exact moment, Matt saunters out of the Santa House, his red coat open to reveal his chiseled abs underneath.
Holy shit.
No more spandex and cotton balls for this guy.
He looks good.
After much discussion about possible costuming for this insane experiment, we decided it was best to go with a classic Santa suit, but without the fake beard or white hair.
That way, he could look cozy and respectable with the kids, then we could open the coat to sex it up just a little bit for the “adult hours.”
I catch my breath.
I did not expect to be so… affected by the sight of him in this suit.
All morning, I’ve been avoiding looking directly at him.
But suddenly I can’t look away. His hair is loose again, like it was on Thanksgiving.
It dusts his broad shoulders. With his coat open, it’s clear how low the velvet pants sit on his hips, showcasing a hint of that V-shape that travels down and disappears behind his belt.
I can’t decide if I love or hate that thick black belt he’s wearing.
I can’t stop my brain from imagining what it would feel like to unbuckle that leather strap and—
“Penny?”
“Penny!” My eyes fly to Keira’s. “That’s me, yes! I’m Penny.”
She chuckles. “We, um, I think we’re ready to get started.”
“Right. Yes, let’s get started.” My gaze locks on Matt’s for just a moment before I tear it away.
Did he catch me staring?
Matt winks and takes his seat.
He definitely caught me staring.
For the next forty-five minutes, I watch woman after woman sit on Matt’s lap and whisper their Christmas wishes into his ear.
It’s torture.
For me.