Santa's Naughty Helpers

by Elizabeth Knox

  I growl and rest my head in the crook of her neck, savouring the feel of my woman beneath me. The one person that owns me completely. The woman who will be by my side through the rest of my days.

  The woman who will be a mother to my daughter and carry any future babies we have. She’s the one I will grow old with, the one I will take my last breath with because I know that we won’t live without each other.

  This Christmas has taught me so many things and I will forever be grateful to them.

  I spend the rest of the night with Zarah under me, beside me, and on top of me. She lets me play and do things that we haven’t tried yet.

  She is Santa’s naughty helper.

  She’s the one woman who will let me unwrap mine.

  THE END

  Santa’s Little Girl

  Pepper North

  Chapter One

  Erika blew upward to flick her bangs off her sweaty forehead, chiding herself. “Oops! Sorry, Grandma!” she said aloud, remembering her favorite relative’s constant reminders that little girls might be dewy, but they never sweated. Ophelia Reynolds was wrong today. There was no disguising that Erika was sweating.

  “Hey! When does Santa take photos with the kids?” a mall patron called to her as Erika set the heavy backdrop down. Two adorable kids with runny noses held each of his hands.

  “Santa’s sleigh will arrive on Monday morning at ten o’clock!” Erika bubbled. The photographer running Santa’s Playground had assured her they would be ready. Looking around, Erika knew there was a lot of work left to finish.

  “I don’t think I want to sit on Santa’s lap,” the son whispered loudly as his dad led them away from the center court of the mall. He hadn’t quite mastered his inside versus outside voice.

  “You’ll love visiting Santa. Start thinking about the presents you want to ask him to bring,” she suggested, calling after them. She laughed when she saw the child stop in his tracks before beginning to chatter to his dad. It appeared the lure of gifts overwhelmed his fear of Santa.

  “Good job, Erika! They’ll be back,” her boss praised as he handed her another box of ornaments to hang on the tree. “Don’t forget to take home your costume tonight. Make sure it fits.”

  Glancing over her shoulder at the cute elf costume, Erika smiled. She was too old to be an elf, but it was so fun to pretend. “Yes, sir,” she cheerfully answered as she moved to the other side of the tree to decorate. Standing on her tiptoes to reach the top, Erika stretched a bit too high and lost her balance. Desperately reaching forward to brace herself on the tree, Erika squeaked as the artificial decoration shifted in its base. The two of them toppled toward the floor.

  “Whoa, Little girl,” a kind voice called from close behind as hands spanned her rib cage to steady her. Settling her back on her feet, he turned her around to face him. “Leave the top decorations to Mr. Finnegan,” the man sternly warned.

  Her eyes traced his form. Oh, My Goodness! Her mind operated in staccato and capital letters as she stared at the handsome rescuer. A well-tailored suit clung to his sculpted form. He lifted one hand from her ribs to lift her chin, closing her gaping mouth. “Hi!” he greeted her with a smile.

  “Hi!” Erika waved unnecessarily and then froze as she berated herself for being childish. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as her face flamed with heat.

  “No one plans to fall, sweet Little. I’m glad I was here.”

  “Mr. Siegel! As you can see, everything is coming together nicely.” Her boss drew the man’s attention away from her quickly. He straightened the tree back to vertical and warned Erika, “Only as far as you can reach with your shoes firmly on the ground, Erika.” Putting a hand on the important visitor’s back, the photographer steered him away.

  Eavesdropping furiously, Erika hoped that she wouldn’t lose this position. Necessity had forced her to take any job. Money had been scarce since her last company had laid her off from the administrative assistants pool. This job didn’t pay much, but it would help cover her rent. And it was fun, she reminded herself. Who else gets to dress up in a fun costume and talk about toys? Wait! Did he call me sweet Little?

  When the executive left and she was still working, Erika relaxed a bit. She’d worried that he knew something personal about her, but he had departed with a wave and a smile. Humming as she happily completed her task, she answered questions and greetings from the mall visitors. By the end of the day, everything was in place for the grand opening of Santa’s Playground.

  “Mr. Siegel, did you find a Santa? I kept reminding my old boss to get on the schedule. He just had so much going on that he never got around to it.” Beth hovered in the door, looking worried.

  “Not yet, Beth. I’ll come up with someone,” Patrick reassured her as he reentered the office from his visit to the mall floor. He grimaced at the name etched on the door. “Call someone to replace this glass with the mall logo. No name this time.”

  “Right away, boss.”

  Thanking the assistant who’d stayed after her boss abruptly quit, Patrick Siegel walked into his office and approached the enormous glass wall. His new office overlooked the main corridor of the mall. Built high above the stores on the top floor, he could see a good portion of his mall. His father had built it ten years ago and had willed it to his son. With a competent manager in place, Patrick hadn’t had much to do with the Siegel’s mall until recently.

  “We have a Santa costume and all the necessities—beard, hat, belt, and pillow,” the secretary shared with him. “If all else fails, you could be Santa.”

  “That’ll be a last resort,” Patrick muttered as he turned to sit back at his computer, searching for some source of rent-a-Santa. Searching futilely online, he missed Beth’s departure. “I feel bad about Hank’s parents and understand that his family needed him. Selfishly, I wish he’d given me some warning and paid attention to upcoming events.”

  His departure had left Patrick in a lurch during the busiest season for the mall. He’d had to dive head forward into the business. That last series of phone calls had been a disaster. Distracted by his family obligations, the previous manager had forgotten to book a Santa for the Christmas season. Now, all the Santas were totally booked. His last desperate hope had been that the photographer had a line on a Santa.

  Patrick turned from his computer to look down at a petite figure below. The cheerful young woman unpacked and decorated the large area where Santa would listen to the kids’ toy requests for Christmas. Patrick knew he was in trouble. Who can I coerce into playing Santa?

  “Thanks. No, I understand.” Patrick pressed the red button on his phone a few minutes later. After a dozen phone calls to all his friends, Patrick still hadn’t found a solution.

  “Here’s the suit I was talking about.” Beth reappeared at his doorway to share helpfully. “It smells like mothballs, but I think it will air out. I’ll take it home tonight and toss it in the dryer with some fabric sheets. No one will ever know.” Holding it away from her body, the deliberately optimistic admin tried to disguise her reaction to the powerful odor.

  “It’s bad, huh?” Patrick laughed as he watched her struggle to answer positively and fail.

  “Bad doesn’t begin to cover it, I’m afraid,” she confessed. “I’m seriously thinking about hooking it in my trunk and letting it dangle outside. Maybe the streaming air through it on the way home would help?”

  “I’ll take it to the cleaners on my way home and ask for a rush job. Kids won’t snuggle up to a Santa that reeks of mothballs.”

  “Does that mean that you’re going to be Santa?”

  “Christmas is one of the busiest times of the year at the mall. We need all those kids to tell their parents what they want Santa to bring them. I can take one for the team. It won’t be that bad.”

  As his helpful admin nodded enthusiastically, Patrick could tell neither one of them really believed that statement was true.

  Chapter Two

  “Hello!” Erika waved at her bos
s, already rigging up the camera and lights. Dressed in a cute elf costume, she had arrived early to double-check that everything was in place. The cleaning crew had shifted around a few props overnight, but she quickly rearranged them.

  As the mall opened, a line formed at the North Pole. Only Santa was missing. Turning to peer for the fifth time down the narrow hallway where the employees arrived, Erika felt tiny beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. Those in line shifted restlessly as the photographer began to make frantic phone calls.

  “Hey! Is Santa going to be here soon?” shouted a burly man holding the hand of a toddler dressed as a princess.

  “Oh, yes, sir! He’ll be here in just a few . . .” Erika’s normally upbeat tone stopped abruptly at the sound behind her.

  “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!”

  She turned to see Santa coming from the executive elevator. What was he doing up there? As he got closer, Erika could see that he had to be a novice at playing Santa. His white beard was partially askew, revealing jet-black whiskers underneath, and the top of the pillow forming his belly peeked over his red velvet jacket. What a disaster!

  Plastering on a peppy smile, Erika rushed forward on her green elf slippers to wrap an arm around Santa’s waist. “Hi, Santa,” she greeted him as she jockeyed around to block everyone’s view. Her hands moved discreetly and rapidly to correct his costume and hide his beard. She didn’t consider how intimately she was touching him until her hands reached under the bottom of his long jacket to tug the pillow down.

  “Whoa, Little girl! Santa’s not going to bring you any toys if you’re naughty,” the man protested, stepping back away from her hands brushing over his pubic area.

  “Just hold still for a minute! You look like a big faker! First time being Santa?” she whispered to him while maintaining that smile for the audience.

  “I can’t imagine how you guessed.”

  That dry sense of humor startled her. Erika met his gaze directly for the first time, and her pretend smile widened into a genuine grin. His blue eyes twinkled with hidden laughter and a bit of self-deprecation. A bell rang in the back of her mind. This Santa reminded her of someone. Shaking that thought from her mind. Erika focused on her guess that he must have really needed a job to take this one. Instantly, she decided to do everything she could to make this work. They needed each other.

  “Santa’s ready to meet you all!” she announced loudly as she turned so the line would hear and settle down slightly. Hooking her arm around his, Erika tugged the fake Santa toward the immense chair where he would greet all the children.

  Getting him settled in place, she whispered all the advice she could think of quickly after years of visiting Santa herself and hearing the parents’ chatter. “Just do your best. Try to get them to smile. Parents really want to hear what their kids want for Christmas, so repeat their requests loud enough so they can hear as they hover nearby. Watch your hands. People are suspicious of perverts these days.”

  “Wow! You’re an expert. Have you sat on Santa’s lap often?” he asked with a wink.

  Feeling her face heat, Erika knew that her blush gave her away. “I love sitting on Santa’s lap,” she confessed, dropping her eyes to the red carpet below his feet.

  “Try to get them to smile. Talk loudly. Don’t be a pervert.” The handsome Santa ticked off her three pieces of advice on his gloved fingers as he deflected the attention from her admission. Turning to the crowd, he shouted, “Ho, ho, ho! Who is coming to see me first?”

  Erika whirled with her hands held up to hold back the masses as half of the little kids started running forward while the other half burst into tears. The photographer stepped in quickly to shoo everyone back into line. While their unhappy parents got them back under control, she turned slightly to whisper one more direction to the inexperienced Santa. “Let us handle crowd control, please.” His immediate nod reassured her he’d already figured out that was the wrong thing to say.

  Erika soon ushered the first child up the red carpet to meet Santa. About five, Erika judged that he would be a good first participant to help train the pretend Santa. Already smiling and pulling energetically on his mother’s hand, the little boy was excited to share everything on his Christmas list. So eager that he clambered up into Santa’s lap himself, kneeing the white-bearded man in a very private spot.

  When the man looked up at her as he tried to mask his agony, Erika pantomimed picking up the children by their sides and placing them carefully on his lap. Newbie! He had so much to learn. She was impressed, however, by his ability to school his expression into a pleasant smile. Quickly, she pulled up the two pictures the photographer took and selected the best for the parent’s souvenir snapshot. Working quickly as the photographer had taught her, she printed it on the miniature printer and tucked it into a colorful sleeve.

  When the photographer nodded at the little boy, who hadn’t gotten through what appeared to be half of his Christmas list, off Santa’s lap, Erika approached and applauded loudly to interrupt. “You must have been super good this year to have such a long list. Santa wants you to email him your list so he doesn’t forget anything.” She leaned in confidentially and whispered, “If you tell him too much, he’ll get mixed up. I got a blue hat one year when I asked for a black cat.”

  “He’s old,” the boy loudly whispered back. They both looked at Santa’s white beard knowingly. “Don’t worry about remembering, Santa. My mommy will send you a list.” Hopping off his lap with a wave, he ran to rejoin his mom.

  “This job is going to be tough on my ego. Good thing you’re not my Little girl. That senile comment would have earned you a spanking,” the pretend Santa warned.

  Erika fled back to the line to escort the next child to meet Santa. This time, she noticed him quickly perch the little girl on his knee. He’s learning!

  Like every year, the group learned to work together. They got into a pattern that flowed smoothly despite meltdowns and children who refused to get anywhere close to Santa. As word spread about this year’s handsome Santa, young women lined up along with the kiddos.

  “How can you stay focused on the kids?” a thirty-something mom asked as she reapplied screaming-red lipstick. “I’m going to sit on Santa’s lap, too,” she informed Erika.

  Mentally doubling the fee, Erika wondered why it bothered her to see other women sitting on Santa’s lap. Selecting a picture when the woman had taken a seat, Erika has forced herself to select the better of the two. “Meow!” she told herself, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t normally the jealous type.

  The morning flew past. Erika closed the line to new arrivals when directed to allow all of them to take a break and have some lunch. While he was obviously not a professional Santa, the man had done a pretty good job. He dealt with screaming children and flirty women with good-natured charm. The kids loved him and didn’t care if his beard and tummy were fake.

  “That’s it, Santa, or Patrick, now that we’re on a break You get thirty minutes for lunch. I hope they warned you to bring something with you. You can’t go down to the food court to pick up pizza without getting mobbed,” the photographer warned him. “You’ll excuse me. I have to escape from the bustle of the mall. I always eat in my truck. Call me if you need me.” With that, he disappeared.

  Standing with a groan, Patrick stretched his back muscles and shrugged his shoulders. “Thirty minutes? That’s not going to be enough time,” he commented.

  “Sorry, that’s what the sign reads,” Erika chirped, pointing to the large sign by the entrance. She needed him to be back on time or everyone would get testy. Even at just one day on the job, she’d figured out that crowd control was important.

  “Got it! I was hoping I’d have time to dry the wet spot on my pants,” he answered, drawing her attention to a large darker splotch on his upper thigh. “That last kid got me.”

  Peals of laughter welled up from deep within her. His dry tone combined with his wet pants triggered her weird sense of humor. When h
e joined her giggles with a low, deep chuckle, she crossed her legs urgently as she realized just how badly she needed a break, too. “Don’t make me laugh!” she requested desperately.

  “Little girl, you need someone to take care of you. Hurry along. I’ll be fine. I promise to be back on time and not to tear off my beard and jacket in front of our audience.”

  Nodding her thanks, Erika raced away. It was not until she was washing her hands that his words echoed in her brain. Little girl! He’d called her Little girl again. Surely, there’s no way he knows, is there?

  Patrick watched the cute elf costume disappear into the crowd. He’d enjoyed watching her more than the kids lining up to sit on his lap. Most of them were cute, but she was downright adorable.

  He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Erika was a Little. It had shone through her interactions with the children. He’d noticed her making notes on a card thrust into her pocket as she talked about Christmas presents with those waiting in line. Suddenly, this Santa gig didn’t seem as much of an imposition of his time as it had been that morning. Waving goodbye, he strode back to the executive elevator and escaped to the top floor.

  “You’re doing an amazing job! I checked on you several times. Those moms are quite eager, but the kids seem to enjoy talking to you,” Beth observed as he stepped through the sliding doors. “You look like you’re having fun.”

  “I’ve been avoiding some roving hands for sure.” He’d dismissed the pushy women. “It’s not the worst job I’ve ever had,” he answered before changing the subject to something he really wanted to know. “Beth, contact the photographer’s staff. I want to know the full name and any information they have about the elf assistant. Her first name is Erika. Try not to raise any alerts. She has done nothing wrong. I just need to know more about her.”