Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Coming,” I mutter, reaching for the handle and swinging the door open. My father stands in the open doorway with his executive assistant Frederick. And no, his helpers aren’t elves. They are regular people like me and Mila. I never really understood where the whole elves thing came into play, but once whispers of Santa’s little helpers hit the modern world, they ran with it. I suppose little magical elves aren’t so far-fetched considering the reindeer farm right outside my kitchen window.
“Santa,” Frederick says with a chipper tone and a wide smile that makes me want to knock out his two front teeth.
I let out a sigh, cutting him off before he has a chance to say whatever he came to tell me. “It’s Nick, Fred. I don’t know how many times I need to remind you.”
A sheepish look crosses his face. “Sorry, Sa—Nick. Old habits die hard. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to calling you by your name. It makes me feel all . . . squirmy.”
“Squirmy?” I question, arching a brow as I step back into my office and grab my belt, all while my father silently watches me from Frederick’s side, clearly wondering if he’s made the right decision to retire. Though I managed the last two years without fucking up, so I think I’m good.
“Yes, Sir. Squirmy,” he says, as I nod toward the corridor, indicating for my father and Frederick to walk with me. “Now, getting on with important matters. The list has been checked and double-checked. However, there have been a few last-minute additions to the naughty list. I recommend taking one final glance at it before you take off.”
“Will do,” I mutter, forcing myself to keep my mind off Mila and get serious about what I’m supposed to be doing tonight. “How are my reindeer looking?”
My father takes it upon himself to answer this one. He’s always had such a soft spot for our furry friends. “All good, son, but you know they also get a little . . . squirmy on Christmas Eve. I believe they’re eager to get going.”
A small smile pulls at my lips. My father isn’t the only one who has a soft spot for our reindeer. They truly are magnificent animals, and for the most part, they were my best friends growing up. After all, there are not many other kids to play with out here. “No surprise there,” I say, glancing back toward Frederick. “Gifts?”
“I have a team still loading them into the sack. Maybe another hour or so and it’ll be ready to go.”
“Perfect.”
I start heading toward the vault that houses the list, determining who’s been good this year, and I smile knowing damn well that Mila would have easily found her way onto the naughty list for the Christmas wish she sent my way. Only that’s the kind of naughty I like most.
Frederick gets on his way, overseeing all the ins and outs of my workshop, and just when I expect my father to follow me into the vault, he clutches my elbow and pulls me aside. “Are you ready? It’s a big night ahead.”
“As ready as I can be, Dad. You’ve spent the last twenty years preparing me for every type of situation. I know what I’m doing.”
“I know you do, but . . .” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m concerned about you, Nicholas. If you remember, I oversaw the Christmas wishes this year. I saw what that girl wished for, and I don’t want you to get distracted. You have an important night ahead of you, and I know you’ve always had a certain . . . fascination with this girl.”
Well fuck. I was expecting a lot of things to come out of his mouth but certainly not that. I wonder how Mila would feel learning that the jolly old Father Christmas she grew up with saw just how filthy her desires truly are.
“Honestly, Dad. I’m good,” I lie, stepping up to the door of the vault and putting in the code. “Last year, I had an extra few hours up my sleeve. I even stopped for a concert appearance in Sydney. Blew a few people’s minds.”
“I don’t want you rushing just to try and prove a point,” he reprimands. “That’s how kids get missed. Take your time, and try to remember that Christmas is all about spreading joy.”
A smirk pulls at my lips as the vault door begins to open. I’ll sure as fuck be spreading something, though I can’t guarantee that it’ll be joy.
“I’ve got it all under control, pops. You don’t need to worry this year. I know my priorities.”
He arches a brow, and the jolly old man the rest of the world is used to seeing disappears, left with the stern father who raised me to be the perfect carbon copy of him. Only, I’m not quite sure it worked. I’m nothing like him.