Wrong Number, Right Santa (Dial M For Mates #4)

1. Dario

Chapter 1

Dario

“I am amazing,” I yelled into the empty community center as I checked off the last item on my list with a flourish.

In past years, I’d attended the Christmas Spectacular and spent money buying handcrafted knickknacks and lovingly created baked goods. But now I was numero uno or the guy in charge.

Not my choice.

Ed, the guy who’d run it for decades, had retired to a warmer climate and no one else had volunteered. Heck, I wasn’t on the committee, but like all the townspeople who had volunteered in previous years, corralling the crowds or awarding prizes, I’d been asked to attend a special meeting to elect someone for the job.

It was my luck to get a flat tire an hour before the meeting. If I’d been in town, I could have walked through the snow, as I lived a couple of blocks away. But I was five miles outside Winter Pines, having spent Thanksgiving weekend with friends, and not only did I have a flat but it was bitterly cold. Thank gods Max, my dog, was with my next-door neighbor and not in the car with me.

Thanks to a snow storm, roadside assistance took over an hour to reach me, and when I arrived at the community center, people were streaming out of the building. Some slapped me on the back, others offered congratulations, while a few refused to look me in the eye and scuttled away to their vehicles.

What’s going on? Did you win something ?

Perhaps . There might have been a lucky draw to entice people to attend the meeting and volunteer for the top job.

I wandered inside to find Ralph, the person entrusted with finding the committee chairperson, huddled with a group of reindeer shifters. They were probably planning a run later tonight, but I was in no mood to join them after being trapped in the car earlier.

My beast was happy to take his fur, but I pictured a roaring fire, hot chocolate, PJs, and wooly socks in my future.

Clothes are overrated, he insisted.

“Dario!” Ralph broke away from the group and greeted me with a broad smile. We were both reindeer shifters and acquaintances but no more than that, so his over-the-top greeting was a tad suspicious.

“I’m so glad you made it. Car trouble?”

I nodded. The other people put on their outdoor clothes and shuffled out the door, the wind whistling in along with random snowflakes before they closed it.

He shoved a box along the table in front of me and handed me a tablet.

“We voted on the Christmas Spectacular chairperson.”

Oh no. No, no, no. I had a bad feeling about this.

“And everyone agreed you were the best person for the job.”

“No one wanted the responsibility and so they passed the buck to the guy stuck in the snow?” I fumed.

Ralph’s cheeks reddened, and he peered at the mess of paperwork inside the box. “Pretty much. Sorry.”

Picking up the box, I tucked it under my arm. “Great. Lucky me.” I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.

“All Ed’s files are in there.” He tapped the box. “But he began using a digital version a few years back. I’m sure you’ll make sense of it.”

He backed off with a grin and began turning off the lights, a hint our conversation was done.

“You’ll do great,” he assured me as the room went dark.

And I did.

Five days before the spectacular, I’d gotten local companies to sponsor the event, organized an elf costume competition, carol singing, a tree lighting, games, stalls selling goods and food, and a story time for kids. But there was no Christmas event without Santa arriving on his sleigh and distributing gifts to the kids.

The “Santa” I chose was someone recommended by Ed. A distant cousin of his. Ed assured me the guy was trustworthy and dressed up as Santa at local malls around the county every year. And he insisted his cousin understood this was a volunteer gig. We only needed the guy for two hours, and I’d ply him with food and drink afterward.

But as I was patting myself on the back, the phone beeped. It was a messaging app I rarely used, and when I glanced at the display, the sender was “Santa.” And as the message was short, I didn’t need to tap the app.

I QUIT in all caps.

“No. He can’t do this to me.” I opened the app, hoping this was a badly timed Santa joke or there was an explanation.

I only do paid Santa jobs .

“Thanks, Ed, and thank you, Santa.” My best-laid plans had been foiled. Where was I going to find another Santa?

I phoned Ed on the off chance he’s returned for a visit, but the recorded message said, “Gone fishing.”

Slamming the phone on the table, I paced around it, and each time I came up with a solution, I cheered until I told myself it wouldn’t work.

I can put on a white beard and a funny red hat . My reindeer was pleased with his suggestion.

Ha! Very funny . I continued pacing. Wait, could you ?

It was a joke, Dario .

Santa arriving was the pièce de résistance of the spectacle. The kids expected it and had been anticipating it all year. I couldn’t disappoint them.

Time to find a replacement though at this late date, how many wannabe Santas were there who weren’t booked?

I scrolled through blogs, websites, social media accounts, as well as calling friends and asking for recommendations. People either laughed, hung up, or never responded to my message.

The next day was more of the same. I’d bitten my nails and raked my hands through my hair so many times it was standing on end.

There was a solution, the last resort!

Me! My reindeer wondered how he’d hand the presents to the children. But they could sit on my back for the photos .

No, but you’re close!

I would have to dress up as Santa. There wasn’t much left on the costumes sites. A few scraggly beards and sad-looking costumes. But I had no choice, as I refused to disappoint the kids.

Ho, ho, ho!