All I Want for Christmas

by Hadley Raydeen

“What is this?” I asked, eyeing it.

  The smugness on her face immediately returned after she got her items. “Oh, that’s a statement of financials for this year. If this store doesn’t get its profits up by year’s end, you will not have a space in this mall come the new year.” She winked and gave a nasty-nice smile, before turning on her heels. “But, I offered some support!” Her tone was sing-song while she held the bag up as evidence. “Thanks, ladies. Enjoy your day,” she said, before sauntering out of the store.

  Chapter Three

  Bryson

  “Oh, my God, what a day!”

  I looked up from my laptop as Tanya entered my office and took a seat, uninvited, on the opposite side of my desk. Though she was the last person I wanted to see at the moment, I couldn’t agree with her more. It had been one hell of a day. I was more than happy it was almost over.

  “What can I do for you?”

  I was in no mood for whatever BS she was cooking up, and it was always something with her. It was best to cut to the chase and get her the hell out of here.

  “Well, now, isn’t that a loaded question, Brys?” She looked at me under hooded lids, and I forced myself not to roll my eyes. I knew that look, and this was a road best left untravelled with Tanya. I’d fallen for her advances one too many times and usually ended up burned from it. I was not that person anymore. She was barking up the wrong tree if she thought batting her fake eyelashes, crossing her legs, and questions full of innuendo would do it for me. Nope, I wasn’t biting tonight, not again.

  “Tanya, please, what’s the point of you stopping by at this hour?” I asked, looking at my watch. It was already nine o’clock at night. The mall should be closing, and the executive offices were long since cleared out for the evening, but yet, here we both sat.

  “Cutting right to the chase, huh?” she pouted, clearly annoyed I wasn’t playing along with her little reindeer game.

  “Yes, I’m trying to. It’s late; I’m ready to call it a night. Why are you in my office? Better yet, why are you even still here at the mall, period?”

  She flinched as if I’d struck her. I knew my words were tight and direct, but you had to be that way with Tanya. She couldn’t catch a hint, softly lobbed or wailed directly in her face. I noticed she was holding something in her hand.

  “What is that?” I asked, gesturing to the folder.

  “Right. This,” she held up the manilla folder, “is a list of financials for the year for each store. Marshall printed them up for me, so I’d know what store owners to go have conversations with. The ones in this folder, are the stores I gave letters to; they were instructed to have numbers up by the end of the year, or they’d be out of a lease.” A grin spread across her face as if she was proud of dropping bombs on these people right before Christmas.

  “Wait, you did what?” I asked, holding out my hand for the folder. “That is not at all what we discussed, Tanya. You were supposed to let them know we would be looking at making some changes. We are reviewing financials to see if this was a mutual fit between their stores and the mall. I mean, you could have said anything to make it sound better. Why would you do this, just weeks before Christmas? I’m sure these people have families to think about. We could have delivered this news after the new year!” I flipped open the folder.

  She inspected her manicured nails while cracking on that infuriating gum. “After the new year would be well after the deadline we gave them. It’s by the end of the year, numbers up or get. the. hell. out,” she enunciated.

  “What on earth do you mean we? I didn’t sign off on—”

  “You know, it really is cute that you think you are still calling all the shots, Brys. But, this one came from above you,” she cut me off.

  “What do you mean above me?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Your father said—”

  “My father!” I roared, pushing back from my desk and standing. Tanya knew that was the one way to get under my skin. I wanted to do this project on my own to show him what I was capable of, without his ‘say-so.’ If he had any idea what was going on here, it was because this little snitch went behind my back and told him. “What does he have to do with this? What did you tell him, Tanya?”

  She held up her hands in a show of surrender. “Now, calm down, Brys. I didn’t—”

  “Don’t call me that. It’s Bryson to you, you snake. Have you been going behind my back talking to my father about what’s going on here? Christ, Tanya, are you sleeping with him, too?”

  “Of course not!” She scrunched up her face like my question truly insulted her.

  Good, at least she is telling the truth about one thing.

  She continued, “I wouldn’t do that to you...or your family. You know I care about you all.”

  And, enters the bull shit, again.

  She reached out, trying to touch my hand as I leaned over my desk, glaring at her. I could feel my temperature rising.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t try to touch me and offer some crap apology. Tell me what you’ve been telling my father! Damn it, Tanya. You know good and well I’m doing all this to prove I don’t need his oversight on every damn thing, and you are still feeding him info behind my back?” I shoved my fingers through my hair and paced my office.

  “You can do this. I have all the faith in the world you can. Please sit down; let me explain,” she pleaded.

  I stared her down before retaking my seat.

  “Before I left that job, I was helping him with in Houston, your father clearly said, ‘To start off strong, we need to cut the dead weight. The underperforming stores have to go, so we can bring in stores that will make us money. I was only going off that advice. Therefore, I informed them of the increase in rent, and their need to up sales, or goodbye.” She shrugged as if it were as simple as that.

  The breath I’d been holding, I let slowly expel. My father had always said that, even when we were interning with him, those years ago. He wasn’t checking on me through Tanya. I could breathe for a moment. I still didn’t like how she was handling this, though. Clara was right; I needed to keep my wits about me when it came to this one.

  I nodded at her. “Okay, Dad is known for saying that. But, don’t do this again without clearing it with me. You don’t work for him anymore, not directly anyway. You are working for me now.”

  “I was only trying to help you be successful…” She stopped her excuse the minute I gave her the ‘don’t play with me right now’ face. “Okay, fine. Fair enough,” she said, holding up a manicured hand in surrender. “I will run things by you before I act next time. However, this act is already done.” She pointed at the folder on my desk. “More than ten stores in this place have been put on notice. They contribute, or they get out. Point, blank, period. Now is the time to be tough, Brys. You can’t be a softie when it comes to this. They won’t know we mean business. They have to produce.” She stood and walked behind my desk; standing behind me, she put her hands on my shoulders, massaging deep. I stifled a moan. I was stiff as shit from the stress of taking on this new gig and trying to prove myself to my family. I was just as good as my dad. I had the educational degrees in business and the experience to succeed. I’d flip this mall into something profitable.

  “Oh, Brys, you are so knotted up. Let me take care of it for you,” she said in a low, seductive tone close to my ear.

  “Tanya…”

  “No no, I insist. You have a lot on you right now. I know how it can be. Don’t worry about it. Now, I did all the dirty work. I informed the stores; your name wasn’t even in it. You won’t be considered the Grinch before Christmas. Why don’t you come back to my place? You can take your mind off of all of this for a little bit. We can get all comfy and cozy by the fire. Maybe have a nightcap…”

  At this point, I was tuning Tanya out. She always had an agenda. And, I wasn’t playing into it. I flipped open the folder she’d handed me and looked at the list of stores. Some I knew had been in this mall for years. I remembered them
from when I was in high school.

  “There has to be something building management can do to help bring shoppers into this mall. It’s not all on the business owners,” I protested aloud, more to myself than to Tanya. I knew she really didn’t care, and this was my responsibility.

  “I thought we were done talking about work for the night, Brys,” she pouted, clearly upset I hadn’t taken her up on the nightcap offer.

  “You may be done, but I have a mall I need to be concerned about.” I stood, causing her hands to fall away from my shoulders. I turned and looked at her. Back and body rub time was over.

  Her lips tightened as she gave a curt nod. “No, you’re right. We do need to do something. We can talk to Phil tomorrow about that.”

  Phil Keaton was over our social media and marketing platforms. He would make sure to get the word out about any exciting things going on for Christmas to draw in the crowds. “We will get all the shops to give Phil whatever holiday specials or sales they’d like to put up on our social media pages. We will start with these stores on this list.” I nodded, picking up the list. I scanned it, my eyes narrowing on one name in particular.

  Sensual Essentials.

  “This store here...” I said, pointing at the name of the store.

  “Which one?” she asked, moving closer than needed, just to see what I was referring to. The smell of her strong perfume had already assaulted my nose when she came in the office, now it went right up my nostrils and caused me to cough.

  I stepped away from her. “Is this the lingerie store of the owner who tackled Santa today?”

  “Hmm,” Tanya said with nonchalance. “Yea, I guess it is.”

  “Why are they on this list?” I raised a brow.

  “Because they aren’t making money,” she snapped. “I stopped in there today, and that girl had the nerve to lie out her face and said they’d end the year in the black? I don’t see how, as they’ve been in the red the whole year. I heard her and her sister concocting some plan to get another Santa in there. I mean, really? After the one they had tried to take an armful of panties and bolt—if it didn’t work before, why try it again? It’s complete insanity if you ask me. I know when I’m shopping for panties, I don’t want some creeper, old man staring at me. But, I did find the cutest bra and thong set there today, though.” She wiggled her brows at me and twitched her hips in my direction. If you want to follow me back to my place, I could pour us a few drinks, and I could model it for you. What do you say, Brys, for old time’s sake?” She winked at me.

  I looked her over as she suggestively ran a hand between her cleavage, pushed up with padding and wires.

  “You went into that woman’s store and bought lingerie, and told her she could very well be evicted after Christmas? That is cold, even for you, Tanya. Look, I’m going to pass on the fashion show. And, for now-now, let’s stop going around talking to the shop owners. I told you to create relationships, not burn bridges. For us to make money, we need these stores to thrive. I think it’s time for us to go home for the night and think up a better strategy.”

  “So, do you still want to come over—” she attempted.

  “I meant to go to our own homes, Tanya. Good night.”

  Chapter Four

  Jamilya

  Niya handed me a glass of Chardonnay and plopped on the oversized armchair opposite me.

  “Girl, it is late; how long are you going to be here?” I whined sipping from the glass.

  “Oh, shut up. I’ll leave when we get this ad right. It has to go up tonight.”

  She was referring to the Craigslist ad she’d decided to do in conjunction with the ad I was putting in the newspaper. Mine was already done; she was still trying to come up with something ‘witty.’

  We started working on this when we closed up shop for the night and came over to my place for take-out and a brainstorming session. ‘Operation Sexy Santa’ was underway.

  “We have to decide on a younger Santa or a silver fox?” I said, sipping my wine.

  “No, no silver fox. I mean, you might be into that, but the younger girls aren’t gonna dig someone that looks like their grandfather. I mean, we like older men but not old-old.” She shook her head with a look of disgust on her face

  “Niya, you think forty is old.” I roll my eyes.

  She smirked. “Technically—”

  “If you don’t shut up. You know I’m over here pushing thirty-seven, and you are gonna say that? The vital parts work just as well at forty as they do at twenty-five. Might be a little stiff in the joints, but we can get the job done.”

  “Lalalala, I don’t want to hear this,” she said, sticking her fingers in her ears.

  “Oh my God, grow up.” I picked up a pillow from beside me on the couch and tossed it in her direction. She batted it away with the one free hand before sipping her wine with the other. “You were a later in life baby; Mama had you in her forties. So, that means her and Daddy were—”

  “Hush, Milya; I don’t want to hear it. We know you are twelve-years older blah blah blah. Let’s get back to the ad, please.”

  “Fine. You are such a brat sometimes.” I scowled at her.

  “That’s what makes me the perfect baby sister.” Niya winked at me. “Now, for the ad... We need to catch the perfect Santa’s eye. How about we write it like a ‘Dear Santa’ letter?”

  “What?” I asked, throwing her a look.

  “You know. Dear Santa, I’ve been a bad, bad girl. Can I make your naughty list?” She batted her eyelids.

  “Bye, Niya,” I said, shaking my head. “This is gonna have a little professionalism to it.”

  “Girl, please; you are soliciting a sexy Santa for a lingerie shop. We’re allowed to be a little raunchy. Tis the season to be jolly, after all.”

  I chuckle at her. “Anyway, give me that. Let’s see what we have so far.” I took the tablet from her and stared at the ad box.

  “Dear Santa, Do you have what it takes to make our sexy list? Sensual Essentials Lingerie Boutique at Parkway Central Mall is looking for the sexiest Santa to listen to all those Christmas Wishes. What do we want for Christmas? We want a Sexy Santa who is so hot, only adults can sit on his lap... This holiday season, one Sexy Mall Santa will model our new men’s lounge line. For every Sexy Santa selfie shared via #SexySanta, proceeds will be donated to Toys for Tots Charity for Christmas.

  Do you have what it takes to be one Sexy Santa? Respond to this ad with a picture or stop by the store for consideration.” I looked up at Niya. “What do you think?”

  “That sounds corny as hell and not at all as spicy as I would have done. But, it has the right amount of cornball flavor to catch someone’s eye and get the job done. I think the gifts for Toys for Tots is a nice touch too.”

  Toys for Tots is a program run by the United States Marine Corps Reserve, which distributes toys to children whose parents cannot afford to buy them gifts for Christmas.

  “Yea, I think if the Sexy Santa doesn’t drive the women in, at least knowing they are helping children for Christmas, will. Plus, it’s an opportunity to get our new men’s line out there and hopefully drum up some sales before the end of this year.”

  I was hopeful this plan would work well if we advertised the right way. I had to check with management to see if we could advertise on the mall’s social media sites as well—anything to get this done and have it be as successful as possible.

  I can not lose my shop because the Tillermans want to raise the rent after the new year and show me the door. The thought burned me up. I don’t know if the idea came from the family or Tanya. She hated me in high school because she thought I was after her man. She made it her mission to make my life hell just to keep us apart. Bryson was in a few of my classes. He’d been entirely too easy on the eyes, and every girl in school ogled him every chance they got. He was the captain of the football and basketball teams. He’d never gave me the time of day. He’d barely gave me the time of day until I helped him with his studies. E
ven the one day, when I’d run smack into him in the hallway; he’d look at me as if I disgusted him. Of course, the popular rich, high school jock wouldn’t be interested in the middle class, overweight black girl. It was right after we’d moved to town my senior year. Daddy was promoted at work, and we moved from our little two-bedroom apartment on the east side of the city, into a four-bedroom house on the south side of the city about thirty minutes away from my old school. I’d been happy not to have to share a bedroom with my six-year-old sister any more when I was eighteen-years-old. But, the prospect of going to a new high school in my final year was rough. I’d been lucky to make new friends quickly. I was thankful for the diversity of the school, no predominance of any one race. However, just like every school, there was still a class-system and cliques galore. Bryson Tillerman and I did not run in the same circle, at all.

  He’d mumbled an apology when he ran into me in the hallway that day, reaching down for the book he’d knocked from my hand. Before I could thank him, one of his teammates had called him over to join them. I took the book from him, our fingers brushing only momentarily. He looked back at me as my gaze shot up to his brown eyes—they softened a bit. I thought he’d felt it too. Was it a spark? Nah, just something I’d eaten at lunch, obviously, because he turned around and went in the direction of his laughing friends. They couldn’t believe he was talking to me either, I bet.

  I shook off the memory of Bryson. I hadn’t really thought about him much in years. That was nearly eighteen years ago. Last I checked, or knew, he’d gone to college and grad school. There was an incident outside of the mall all those years ago. He’d been caught in the car with a bottle of liquor. I did my best to keep that story out of the newspaper. But, I was new to the paper, then and didn’t have much say-so, yet. I hadn’t heard much about him, until now, when we did the story on him and the mall. I knew his father’s property management company owned the mall and damn near every building in town. But, I was surprised to see Bryson had worked on this particular project himself, without his father’s oversight. He’d mentioned the older Tillerman’s strict rule the few times we interacted at school while I was his tutor.