Happily Ever After Page 11

  Mike stopped midstep and let out another whistle. “Wow. Seriously? I didn’t think you were the marrying kind.”

  “I didn’t think so either.” Rachel rubbed her heated cheeks. “But then I met Lillian.”

  “Good for you.” Mike patted her shoulder. “So when are you planning to pop the question? Christmas?”

  Rachel had put a lot of thought into that too. “No. I don’t want Lillian to think I’m trying to avoid getting her a Christmas present by giving her the ring for Christmas, so I’ll do it the week before.”

  “Geez,” Mike murmured. “You women think too much.”

  Rachel didn’t bother replying.

  They patrolled past the Asian restaurant and the burger place. Rachel caught a glance of Lillian behind the counter. Even in the drab uniform of the fast-food chain, Lillian looked great. She had her long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail, making Rachel fantasize about kissing Lillian’s elegant neck and nibbling her way down to—

  “Hey!” Mike nudged her, a big grin on his face. “Mind on the job, partner.”

  Rachel wrenched her gaze away from Lillian and followed Mike back to the mall’s upper level.

  “So that’s why you want to get another job? To pay for the ring?” Mike asked.

  “I’ve been setting aside some money every week since the Supreme Court overturned DOMA in June, but it’s still not enough to buy the ring I want.”

  “Two thousand bucks is a lot of dough for a ring,” Mike said. “I got Beth’s for much less than that.”

  Rachel teasingly tugged on his tie. “That’s because you’re cheap. I want to buy Lillian the nicest ring I can possibly afford. If that means working two jobs for a while, so be it.”

  “So what job are you applying for? Moonlighting as a guard at a museum or something like that?”

  They stopped to glance into the toy store and then continued their last patrol of the day.

  “No,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to waste time on a long commute from one job to the other. I was thinking about a job here at the mall.”

  Mike swept his gaze over the stores on the upper level. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna sell women’s lingerie.”

  “I wish,” Rachel muttered. “No, the only vacancy they had was as a…” She bit her lip. If I tell him, I won’t hear the end of it for the next ten years.

  “As a what? Come on, don’t be so secretive.”

  Rachel sighed. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

  Mike clutched his chest and gave her his best puppy-dog look. “Would I do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Okay, okay, I promise. No laughing. Now shoot.”

  Rachel took a deep breath. “They’re looking for a mall Santa.”

  For a few moments, Mike just blinked rapidly. Then the corners of his mouth twitched and his face took on the color of a Santa suit while he struggled to suppress his laughter. He put his index finger into his left ear and shook it as if he wasn’t sure he could trust his hearing. “You? You want to be a mall Santa?”

  “Why not?” Rachel ignored his antics. “I hear Santas can make up to a hundred dollars an hour. Not too bad for a bearded, old guy, huh?”

  “But that’s just it. You’re not a bearded, old guy. You don’t have the snow-white beard, the large belly, or the chubby cheeks of a Santa. And don’t get me started on your lack of the holiday spirit, Ms. Christmas Grump.”

  Rachel fixed him with the stare she usually reserved for shoplifters. “I’m not a Christmas grump. I put on a Santa suit for Tyler last year, and he really loved it.”

  “Yeah, but he’s just one kid, and he’s practically yours. Are you sure you want to deal with thousands of kids of complete strangers?”

  “Sure, why not?” Rachel shrugged. “All I have to do is listen to what’s on their wish lists, pose for photos, and then send them on their way with a ‘ho-ho-ho.’ How hard can it be?”

  Mike regarded her with a sympathetic gaze. “You’re about to find out.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Lewis, but you don’t fit the job description,” the man on the other side of the desk said. He stroked his clean-shaven chin and then pointed at hers.

  “But I—”

  “Sorry,” he said again. “Nowadays, children are not as easily fooled as they were in the past. Some of them pull Santa’s beard to find out if he’s real, so we prefer Santas with a natural beard.”

  How’s that for gender equality. Rachel’s shoulders slumped.

  “But if you’re interested in working for us, there’s one more position that we haven’t filled yet.”

  Rachel perked up. “Mrs. Claus?” That might not be so bad. Unless they make me wear a skimpy dress. No way I’d do that. Not here in the mall, where all of my colleagues could see me. She eyed the man warily.

  “No. We already have a Mrs. Claus. Plus we need her to work full-time, not just a few hours each day like you want to. But we can offer you a job as a Christmas elf. You’re a little tall for an elf, but what the heck.”

  “Hmm. A Christmas elf…” That sounded much less glamorous than being Santa Claus.

  The man smiled brightly. “Yeah, you know, the little helpers who live with Santa on the North Pole, make the toys, and take care of the reindeer.”

  “I know what a Christmas elf is. What does it pay?”

  “Ten dollars an hour.”

  Now that doesn’t exactly put me in the Christmas spirit. Quickly, Rachel calculated how many hours she’d have to put in to afford the ring before Christmas. Damn. I think I’ll have to give up sleeping.

  “So?” The man tilted his head. “Are you interested?”

  Rachel didn’t hesitate. Lillian was worth it. “Yes.”

  “Great.” They shook hands. “You start the Monday after Thanksgiving. Come back tomorrow to pick up your elf costume.”

  Costume… Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.

  “Can I look now?” Mike shouted through the door to the employee locker room.

  “No, you perv. Not yet,” Rachel called back. Grimacing, she wrestled with her green-and-red-striped tights. She hadn’t worn tights since she had been old enough to refuse at the age of six. Oh, the things we do for love.

  A little bell jingled as she put on her green, cone-shaped felt hat. It took her a minute to get the pointy latex ears to stay in place. Finally, she exchanged her work boots for the elf shoes that were turned up at the toes. She stepped back to look at herself in the mirror, making the bells on her shoes jingle.

  Christ. Is that supposed to be such a tight fit? She slid her hands down the green and red top clinging to her chest.

  Finally, she couldn’t avoid it any longer. One more deep breath and she stepped out of the locker room.

  “Wow.” Mike stared at her chest. “You look…um…great.”

  “I look like a stripper for a frat Christmas party,” Rachel grumbled. “It’s a wonder none of our colleagues are rushing over and arresting me for solicitation.”

  Mike laughed. “Well, the day’s still young.”

  Rachel sent him a glare.

  His laughter stopped instantly. “Want me to walk you over to the Christmas village?”

  “No, thanks. Can’t have the kids thinking one of Santa’s helpers got in trouble with mall security. But you could do me a favor.”

  “Sure,” Mike said without asking what it was.

  Rachel stopped glaring and smiled at him. Sometimes, Mike might be a pain in the ass, but he was also a great friend. “If you see Lillian heading that way—” She pointed in the direction of the Christmas village. “—stop her. Normally, she heads straight home after her shift, but you never know. If she sees me in this costume, she’ll know something’s up, and I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  “Where does she think you are after work?” Mike asked.

  “Um, I told her I’m working overtime this week because Barry’s out sick. I’ll think of another excus
e next week.”

  Mike fiddled with the tie of his security guard uniform. “What am I supposed to say if she tells me she wants to go see Santa?”

  “I don’t care. Be creative. Just keep her from seeing me like this. Can you do that?”

  Mike nodded. “Who am I to say no to a Christmas elf?”

  Rachel grinned and patted his shoulder. “That’s the spirit.” As she hurried away, she prayed that Lillian would not be able to say no to a Christmas elf either. After all, if Lillian didn’t accept her proposal, this would all be in vain.

  Four hours later, Rachel had found out three things.

  One, elf shoes might be a nice accessory, but they were not made for walking. Two, baby drool didn’t make good hairspray. And three, children around the age of two were not big fans of Santa.

  The line of excited children and fussy parents didn’t seem to get any shorter.

  She stepped up to the next family and forced a cheerful smile. “Are you ready to see Santa?”

  A little girl of about six jumped up and down and nodded while her younger brother clung to his mother’s leg, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

  “So what are your names?”

  “I’m Jessa,” the girl said.

  “And this is Justin,” their father added.

  “All right.” Rachel mentally repeated their names. An hour ago, she had confused “Bradley” and “Brayden,” and the boy’s grandmother had looked as if she wanted to kick Rachel when Santa had gotten her grandson’s name wrong.

  “What’s your name?” Jessa asked.

  “Uh.” Belatedly, Rachel realized that the elves, unlike Santa’s reindeer, were unnamed. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, making the bells on her shoes jingle. “My name is…um, Jingle.”

  The girl giggled. “Jingle?”

  “Yes.” Rachel gave a little bow. “Jingle the elf. So, let’s go see Santa.” She held out her hands.

  Jessa readily took Rachel’s hand. “Come on, Justin.”

  Hesitantly, Justin let go of his mother and, after one last glance back at his mother, slid his hand into Rachel’s. His fingers were sticky.

  Rachel suppressed the urge to grimace and led the children toward Santa’s chair.

  “Do Christmas elves really eat reindeer?” Jessa asked.

  “Um, where did you hear that?” The questions the kids came up with boggled Rachel’s mind.

  Jessa shrugged.

  “No, of course we don’t. Elves are vegetarians.”

  “Really?” Jessa looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

  Rachel tried not to fidget under the child’s skeptical gaze. “Would Santa’s helper lie to you?”

  A hearty “ho, ho, ho” caught Jessa’s attention before she could answer.

  Saved by Santa.

  Before them, her colleague Walt sat on Santa’s throne, flanked by two other elves. Walt was in his seventies and looked as if he was close to passing out under the weight of his faux belly.

  Rachel leaned close. “You okay, Walt?”

  Walt wiped his brow and nodded.

  “Their names are Jessa and Justin,” Rachel whispered while one of the other elves distracted the children.

  “Hello, Jessa and Justin,” Walt said, lowering his voice to a baritone. “I hear you’ve been good all year.”

  Jessa nodded eagerly while her brother stared at the bearded stranger.

  “Come on up here,” Walt said.

  Jessa didn’t have to be asked twice. She immediately climbed on Santa’s lap.

  Justin didn’t move.

  “Come on, Justin,” Jessa called. “It’s Santa.”

  Rachel tried to tug him forward.

  Screaming, Justin pulled his slippery hand from hers and kicked out.

  Pain rushed through Rachel’s shin. Suppressing a curse, she hopped around on one leg for a moment while Justin ran back to his mother.

  The mother lifted him up and tried to put him on Santa’s lap, ignoring his tears.

  Justin struggled. Not even the candy cane Rachel held out could distract him.

  “Maybe we could just take a photo of Jessa with Santa,” Rachel said.

  Justin’s mother shook her head. “Oh, no. Justin should be in the picture too. I promised his grandparents a photo.”

  Great. I bet Grandma and Grandpa will love it. Nothing says happy holidays like a terrified two-year-old.

  Poor Walt had to keep a grip on the crying boy while the photographer elf hurriedly snapped a picture.

  Rachel wondered if the experience would do any lasting psychological damage. Would Justin be terrified of bearded men from now on?

  “So have you told your mother to send me your wish list?” Walt asked Jessa after Justin’s mother had finally freed him of the boy.

  Jessa nodded. “Yes. I want a Nintendo 3DS. Or an iPhone.”

  Rachel stared at the little girl, who continued to name every item in the Toys “R” Us catalogue. Oh, wow. Thank God Tyler is a little more modest.

  When Jessa finally climbed down from Santa’s lap, she looked up at Rachel. “Justin kicked you. That means he was bad. Can I have his gifts now?”

  Rachel’s second day as a Christmas elf wasn’t any better than the first one. Her hair was a tangled mess after being grabbed by sticky candy cane hands. Her feet hurt, and she would have given everything to get to deal with shoplifters and muggers instead of crying children and fussy parents.

  The same old Christmas songs blared from the mall’s speakers for the hundredth time, getting on her nerves.

  To add insult to injury, her security guard colleagues had all made it a point to stroll over and stare at her in her elf costume with broad grins on their faces.

  She scanned the crowd waiting for their turn with Santa, trying to make sure that none of her colleagues would snap a photo or, even worse, film her. Her eyes widened.

  Instead of her colleagues’ grinning faces, she looked into a pair of startled blue eyes.

  It was too late to duck behind Santa’s chair. Lillian had already seen her and was inching closer to the corralled-off North Pole set, holding on to Tyler’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd.

  “Hey, Kate, can you take over for a moment?” Rachel asked the elf on the other side of Santa’s chair. When Kate nodded, she slunk over to Lillian. “Hi. What are you doing here? I thought we’d take Tyler to see Santa next weekend?”

  “That’s still the plan,” Lillian said. “We were shopping for your Christmas present and Tyler wanted to take a look at the Christmas village on the way out. What’s going on? I thought you were working.” Lillian’s gaze swept up and down Rachel’s body, lingering on the tight elf top before moving back to Rachel’s face.

  Rachel rubbed one of her latex ears, nearly dislodging it. “Um, I…uh…”

  “Did Santa ask you to help out again?” Tyler asked.

  It took Rachel a few moments to figure out what he was talking about. Last year, when she had dressed up as Santa Claus and he had recognized her, she had told him that Santa had asked her to help out. “Um, yes, he did.” She waved to Walt, who waved back.

  “Wow.” Tyler stared at the man in the Santa costume. “That’s so cool.”

  But, of course, Lillian wouldn’t be put off so easily. Once Rachel got home, she would demand an explanation.

  “Hey, Jingle,” Walt called.

  Rachel winced.

  “Jingle?” The corners of Lillian’s mouth twitched.

  Rachel shook one of her feet, making the little bells on the elf shoes jingle. “Yep. That’s me.”

  Walt called for her again.

  “Go,” Lillian said and kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  Sighing, Rachel went back to work.

  Rachel stopped the car in front of the house. For a moment, only the sound of a cheery Christmas tune filled the car. Growling, she shut it off, gathered the elf hat from the passenger seat, and climbed out of the car.

  Sh
e hadn’t taken the time to change. After a long shift patrolling the mall and then six hours as an elf, all she wanted was to sleep and hope she wouldn’t dream about anything Christmas-related. Now that Lillian had found out, there was no need to change back into normal clothes at work.

  Their neighbor, who was just lifting grocery bags from his car, stared at her.

  “Hi, Bill,” Rachel called as if this were her normal work outfit. Not in the mood for long conversations, she continued up her driveway and unlocked the front door.

  Lillian stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.

  For the first time in two years, Rachel found herself tongue-tied around Lillian. “Where’s Tyler?” she asked when she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

  “In bed. It’s late.”

  “I’m sorry.” Rachel ducked her head. She hadn’t been there to read Tyler a bedtime story this week. Since she started to work as a Christmas elf, she hadn’t been able to spend much time with her family. Sometimes, she wondered if it was worth it. Then she glanced into Lillian’s eyes and knew the answer.

  Lillian tugged her into the kitchen, pressed her down on a chair, and warmed up a plate of chicken pasta for Rachel. “So,” she said when she handed Rachel a fork, “want to tell me why you look like this?”

  “They require elves to wear a costume.” Rachel nodded at the cone-shaped hat tucked under her arm.

  “I gathered that. But why are you working as a Christmas elf and never said a word? You told me you have to work double shifts because a colleague is sick. You lied to me. That’s not like you.”

  What could she say to that? Rachel sighed. She hated lying to Lillian, and now she had to do it again. “I lost a bet, and I was too embarrassed to tell you.” It was the first thing that popped into her head.

  Lillian arched a brow. “A bet?”

  Rachel stuffed a large forkful of pasta into her mouth, preventing her from answering, and nodded.

  “What kind of bet?”

  The pasta formed a lump in her stomach. “Um, a guy in a suit set off an alarm when he left the lingerie store. I bet Mike that it was a false alarm.”

  Lillian sat across from her. “It wasn’t?”