Unlikely Santa

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter,” she said, though her voice was lower than usual. “Everyone calls me Brandon, Elise. We are a first name company."

“I’m more of a Halloween girl,” Elise said to her new coworker.

The middle-aged woman shrugged, saying, “It’s all the same thing, an excuse to celebrate still being alive.”

Elise was about to disagree when a tall, energetic man burst through the conference room doors carrying a giant red sack. Though he was dressed as Santa, his body was anything but round. The sleeves of the costume were taut against his muscular arms, yet the body of his red and white coat sagged loosely over his abdomen. The fake beard hung below his chin revealing a hard jaw line and plush lips.

Elise watched as he danced around the room. Stopping in front of each employee, he reached into his giant sack and produced presents.

“Brandon outdoes himself every year. Last year he got me a set of crystal champagne flutes to use at my daughter’s wedding, engraved with the date and everything,” the woman next to her said.

“That’s Brandon?” Elise questioned.

The unlikely Santa was moving closer. His deep voice made it to her ears, and she remembered the phone interview that had gotten her hired.

“You seem exceptional, Elise.”

Brandon was now standing in front of the woman next to her with a dinner sized wrapped box in his hands.

“Open it, Anne,” he murmured.

Elise watched as Anne ripped the paper. Stealing a glance at Brandon, she could see the fake beard stretch against his cheek as he smiled.

Anne gasped, tears forming in her eyes, as she stared at the plaque in her hands. “Oh, Brandon, this is stunning. How did you do this?”

“Your husband helped. He sent me your favorite pictures of little Xavier.”

Anne turned her head and explained, “I lost my fifteen-year-old Yorkie last month. I used to bring him to the office all the time.”

“He was our unofficial mascot,” Brandon declared, speaking to Elise for the first time since their phone interview. “It’s good to meet you in person, Elise. I’m sorry I haven’t been to the office since you started.”

She struggled to reply. Her throat was instantly dry under the scrutiny of his dark eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter,” she said, though her voice was lower than usual.

“Everyone calls me Brandon, Elise. We are a first name company.”

He reached into his sack and handed her a small box. The emerald, green wrapping paper sparkled, reflecting the overhead lights. After a nod from him, she unwrapped the unexpected gift. Unwrapped, the box looked like a jewelry box for a ring. Her heart rate increased, and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Once opened, she saw a miniature Christmas tree statue. The decorative lights were small rhinestones. Turning it to view all sides, she noticed the Swarovski label on the bottom.

“This is gorgeous. Thank-you.”

“She doesn’t like Christmas,” Anne said.

Brandon smiled even more at her, saying, “Really? You’ll have to tell me why?”

“I prefer Halloween. I never said I didn’t like Christmas,” she said, feeling like she had to defend her stance on the Holidays.

His smile disappeared. Standing up straighter, his chin above the level of her head, he said, “That reminds me, I never did our one-on-one since your hire. Do you have a moment right now?”

“Right now?” she questioned, nodding her head at the office party.

“Yes, right now. My office.”

He turned on his black shiny heels and she skipped on her feet to keep up with him. He eased through their small crowd, through the conference room doors, and down the hallway to his corner office. He pulled the Santa hat and beard off his face as he walked through the door.

She stepped in front of him, standing awkwardly as he closed the door and made his way to sit in his desk chair.

“I knew you were exceptional, Elise. I’ve been following your articles for a long time,” he said, adding, “Not just professionally.”

Her head swam, wondering what he meant. She moved to sit in the chair across from him, but his deep voice said, “Not there. Wouldn’t you rather sit on Santa’s lap?”

He leaned back suggestively. His legs widened and he placed his hand on his thigh.

“Is that a good idea?” she wondered out loud. “You’re my boss.”

“Not for the past forty-eight hours. I sold the company. I plan to announce it this evening during the toasts. I’ve been planning it since before I hired you. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

She shifted on her heels, saying, “I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. We’ve spoken once over the phone.”

“And I was instantly attracted to you. Are you attracted to me?” he asked. When she hesitated to answer, he asked instead, “Why do you not like Christmas?”

“Unrealistic expectations.”

He rubbed his palm on his thigh and murmured, “I’m not your boss anymore. If you’re worried, you can ask Anne. I don’t date women at work, haven’t in the ten years I’ve run this magazine. I have high expectations for the woman I date.”

She stepped closer, eyeing his lap, wanting to sit.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick? How do I know this isn’t your Christmas routine to sleep with a woman?”

“Whoa, Elise. I asked you to sit on my lap, I didn’t say we would be having sex. I want a date first, maybe even a kiss. Maybe I can change your mind about Christmas too,” he said.

Elise stepped between his legs licking her bottom lip. She sat on his thigh as his arm wrapped around her waist. He cupped her face with his hand and brought their lips together. After a few seconds, he pressed his tongue forward. Her body sank against his when their tongues met.

Leaning back with a satisfied smirk, he said, “Tell Santa how you feel about Christmas now.”

“Ask me next Christmas, Santa,” she replied with a smile.