"Honey, I've never seen anything like this in my life. New York didn't have scenic views like this." Pierre pointed to the mountains.
She saw Marcy come to the stage and adjust the microphone. "Good morning, everyone."
"Good morning," the Clauses said together.
Pierre stifled a little giggle. "That appeared a little too rehearsed."
"Shush," Elle whispered, turning her attention back to the Marcy on stage.
“…. you will be spending the next few weeks together in one of the large houses here on the island. It will be your home. You will work together, eat together, sleep together. Couples will be doubled-up as each room has two queen size beds.”
Elle groaned. She hoped Marcy wasn’t going to include her in the house.
“The house is set up with cameras in each room. You signed the privacy waiver, but I want to re-iterate this. Everything you say and do will be recorded.”
Murmurs went out through the audience.
Marcy shook her arm and looked at her watch. “I’m now going to introduce you to the man behind the vision of The Last Santa Standing.”
Elle tuned out as Marcy edified the show’s creator. She wasn’t interested in the man’s resume.
“Sounds like this guy has done it all,” Pierre said. Elle hummed something non-committal.
“Please join me in welcoming Mr. Dancer Holliday to the stage.” Marcy clapped her hands and walked backwards behind the curtain as a tall man dressed in brown slacks with a navy cable-knit turtleneck sweater took the stage.
“Hmmm…, honey,” Pierre whispered. “That man has class. I rarely see a Cucinelli outside of Italy.”
“What’s that?” The man hadn’t turned to face the audience, but Elle thought there was something eerily familiar about him.
“The sweater, silly. That is a $5,000 cashmere sweater.”
That was more than her rent on the New York apartment! Elle looked at Pierre. “How do you know all this?”
“Retail therapy. I have three of them sitting in my Barney’s shopping cart. One day I might even check out.”
Elle shook her head. Pierre dreamed of living the affluent lifestyle. Maybe this job would propel him there.
The man handed a stack of papers to Marcy before stepping up to the microphone. As he looked out into the audience, Elle gave a little gasp.
“What is it?” Pierre asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I have. Remember I told you about that hot stranger I kissed on the elevator?”
“Uhm-uhm.”
“There he is.” Elle slunk down in her seat.
“Him?” Pierre said a little too loudly.
“Hush,” Elle whispered. Several of the cast and crew turned and looked in their direction. Her eyes drifted back to Dan, standing on the stage. He was looking directly at her. If he was just as surprised, he didn’t say anything.
The man she kissed was now her boss.
Could the day get any worse?
Dan wondered what Elle was doing in the audience. After he dropped her off at the lodge last night, he was tempted to cancel his appointment with Miss Richey so he could spend that time with the woman he couldn’t get off his mind.
By the end of the night he found himself addicted to her kisses. He intended to tell her that as soon as they were alone again.
Marcy coughed off stage. Dan looked down at his notes.
“I want to welcome everyone to the show here on Holliday Island. My idea was to create something wholesome that families could watch together. And what is more wholesome than Santa?
“Twelve couples have been chosen. You,” he waved his arm to the couples in the chairs, “were determined to have the traits of Santa and Mrs. Claus. You are kind. Reliable. Work with children. You are jolly and finally there is just a twinkle that says you are Santa and Mrs. Claus.
“The next three weeks will test your endurance, your patience and see if you have what it takes to really be the face of Christmas Spirit.
“Remember that the last episode will be live. Everyone will be participating, even those that are no longer in the competition. If that is you, you are invited to enjoy the rest of your stay here.”
Dan looked up and noticed that Elle stood up and left the room. He looked back down at the papers and shuffled them because he lost his place. Normally he was totally professional. What was wrong with him?
“The first filming will start Monday morning. Use the next few days to move into the Santa House and enjoy your time here on Holliday Islands.” He handed the papers to Marcy and rushed out the side door to see if he could find Elle.
He saw her climbing the stairs towards the upstairs room. “Elle,” he said taking the steps two at a time to reach her.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me who you were,” she hissed.
“Let’s not talk here.” Dan looked around. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the private workroom. She protested but relented and allowed him to lead her.
When they went into the small space, he closed the door and turned to face her. “What are you doing on my production?”
“What are you doing not telling me who you really are?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You led me on, Dan… Dancer… You didn’t tell me that you were one of the brothers.”
“It didn’t matter. None of it mattered when I was with you.”
“I feel like such the fool,” she spewed at him. “I came up here to be the hostess of your Santa program and now… I just feel silly. I even looked up the reindeer brothers before I came here. Funny how your face wasn’t anywhere in the tabloids.”
He grabbed Elle’s hands. “Elle, I do everything I can do to avoid being in the papers. That’s why you’ve not seen me. My brothers have lavish lifestyles, but I am a little more subdued.”
“Is that a Cucinelli sweater?”
“What?”
Elle pointed her finger in his chest. “Is that a Cucinelli?”
“I think so.”
“Then you have a lavish lifestyle too. One that I could never be a part of.”
“Why’s that, Elle?”
“Because I don’t want to be the one that gets you on the front page of the tabloids.”
“Are you leaving Holliday Island?”
“No. I was hired to do a job and I’ll do it. But from now on we are strictly professional. Understand?”
“Elle. If you just…”
“Understand?”
Dan dropped his hands. “Understood.”
“I have to go practice my monologue for the opening tomorrow.” She pulled open the door and exited the room.
“Elle,” a voice called.
Dan stepped out of the room. Andrew Grayson was standing in the lobby.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have meetings with Mr. Holliday.”
Elle turned around and looked at him. “Which Mr. Holliday?”
“That one,” Andrew pointed to Dancer.
“What about?”
“About the building he purchased.”
“Building? In New York?”
“Yeah. He bought the building where the news station is.”
Dan watched the anger play out on Elle’s features.
“I can’t believe this. I’ve been betrayed by both my ex-boyfriend and my new employer.”
“Elle,” Andrew started.
“Can it, Andy. I don’t want to hear anything right now.” She pivoted on her heel and headed up the grand staircase to the second level of the lodge.
Dan watched her retreat and then turned to the man who had succeeded in tipping Elle over the edge. “What are you doing here, Grayson?”
“You told me if I wanted to talk, I needed to come here. So, I did.”
Dan looked at the crowd that was starting to collect in the lobby. “Let’s go to my office to talk.” He knew that everyone had a camera, and he didn’t want to risk being on th
e next trashy talk show.
As he and Andrew headed towards his office, Dan couldn’t help but take one last glance up towards the stairs.
Chapter 10
Elle adjusted the hat on her elf costume as Pierre applied lipstick to her lips with a brush.
It had been three days since she had seen Dan. She tried to avoid him. It was easier to keep her relationship professional that way. The last thing she wanted was to be the target of gossip, or have Dan be.
She had been thinking about it all weekend. They were just too different. If he was wealthy, that would be alright.
Pierre stepped back and made a popping sound with his lips, signaling to Elle she needed to do the same. She did and then rubbed her lips together.
“How do I look?” she asked. Pierre had curled her brown hair into ringlets, and they fell from the red and white felt hat she wore.
“You look absolutely adorbs,” he replied. “That man won’t be able to take his eyes off you.
Elle paused. “What man?”
Pierre chuckled and pointed to the other side of the set where Dancer Holliday was looking at a clipboard and motioning to the camera men. “That man right over there. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since we arrived.”
“That isn’t true,” Elle said. “It is strictly professional.”
Pierre gave her a knowing look. “Uh-huh, sweetie, you keep telling yourself that.” Elle swatted at him with her white mitted hands. Pierre jumped back and laughed. “Christmas is the time of miracles, Elle.” She saw Marcy waving to them. Pierre lifted his hand. “I gotta go and see if the rest of the couples are ready.” He gave her a little wave and glided towards the costume area.
Dan caught her eye. He was looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. He made a quick note on the clipboard before handing it off to one of the camera men. Then he walked over to Elle.
“You weren’t kidding,” he said as he approached her. “You really do look like one of those dolls. A real life elf.”
Elle blushed and looked away. She clapped her mitted hands together nervously; it made a muffled sound. “That’s me. Elle on the Shelf, based on the beloved childhood character.”
“Are you feeling comfortable? Do you have your lines?”
Elle looked back at Dancer and nodded. “It’s definitely different than telling the weather, that’s for sure.”
“You’ll be amazing.”
“By the time the live broadcast happens I’ll probably have my role down.”
“I know you will.”
“But for now,” she gave a little laugh, “I’m just trying to keep my lunch down.”
“Stage fright is a real thing.”
“I’ll be okay once we get filming.”
“Where’s your friend?”
“Phillip?”
“I thought his name was Pierre.”
Elle waved a mitted hand in the air. “That is his stage name. His real name is Phillip.” Dan nodded slightly. “He said he was going to go check on the other couples.”
Dan nodded. “Elle, listen…”
Elle held up one of her mittens. “Dan, don’t we just need to get through the filming of the show? I don’t belong in your world, any more than you belong in mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wear top of the line clothes. I have holes in my socks. You eat moose filet and lobster. My family has tacos for Christmas.”
“Tacos?”
Elle nodded.
“We go live in five,” a voice called from across the studio.
“You’ll need to tell me about your Christmas tacos, but you better get to your place,” Dan said softly.
“Where will you be?”
“I’ll be in the soundproof room, watching from a monitor.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
Dan didn’t say anything. “Elle,” he finally responded. “You could never disappoint me.”
“Four minutes,” the voice called again.
Dan leaned forward and lifted Elle’s chin with a finger. He lowered his face, so he was close to her. “Good luck,” he whispered, then he was gone.
Elle watched him walk towards the room where he said he would be watching.
“Three minutes.”
Elle hustled over to the stage where she stood behind a set of tall wooden doors, waiting for the signal to open them.
Maybe Pierre was right, she thought. Perhaps Christmas was the time of miracles.
Dan could see both the front of the sound stage and the back behind the large prop doors. He watched on the monitor as Elle took a deep breath before opening the doors and stepping out into the studio covered with fake snow. The cameras panned over the twelve couples, each one smiling at Elle.
He was glad they weren’t filming outdoors. It was a little too cold for that. Dancer didn’t even go outside unless he absolutely had to. The large doors matched the house where the rest of the filming would be taking place. It was only for this scene that they needed the pretend ones.
Elle really was a natural in front of the camera. She embodied everything magical about the holidays. From the top of her red and white hat, past her red top and white skirt with red snowflakes appliqued on them, all the way down to her red tights and pointy red leather shoes.
Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing red footed pajamas, he thought. He didn’t want to think of her in anything remotely connected to bedtime.
Pierre curled her hair, so it fell in ringlets past her shoulder. Dancer recalled the way it held tight to his finger as he pulled one of the curls.
She wore stage makeup that sparkled on camera. Her cheeks were rosy red circles and she had gold glitter around her eyes. Pierre must have applied some type of false lashes, as she kept blinking.
Dancer wasn’t sure if she was frozen. He was about to whisper something to the stage manager when suddenly, Elle tossed forth the stage snowflakes and threw her arms open wide.
“Welcome Santas and Mrs. Clauses!” she exclaimed. “I’m Elle Richey and I’m your hostess with the mostess, for this celebration of all things Santa!” She smiled at each couple and Dancer could see them visibly relax. “It wasn’t an easy road to get here. You were judged by your application, video and how you conveyed your holiday spirit. Congratulations. You are the best of the best.”
The crowd broke into light applause.
“Not only that,” she giggled. “You were the only ones willing to come to Alaska at this time of the year.” She rubbed her arms and hopped from foot to foot. “I know I’d rather be somewhere warm.” The crowd broke into laughter. “But Santa needs the North Pole, and how much closer can you get than here in Alaska.”
“She’s a natural.”
Dancer turned to see who was behind him. Pierre was looking over his shoulder to the monitor where Dancer watched Elle talking to the couples.
“That she is.” Dan turned back to watch the monitor. He felt Pierre staring at the back of his head. He turned back around. “Was there something you needed?”
“I guess there is. I want you to be careful with her,” Pierre warned. “She’s not from your world. She doesn’t understand what comes with being a billionaire and everything that entails.”
Dan’s eyes flicked back to the screen. Elle’s voice came through loud and clear on the speaker.
“…. we will be spending the next few weeks…,” he heard Elle say.
“What does it come with?” Dan asked in a hushed whisper. He didn’t need anyone to accidently overhear the conversation.
“Power. You’ll have power over her, and she won’t recover once you toss her aside. She’s still angry about Andy and his bimbo manipulating the station for ratings.”
“I filed a lawsuit against the station and the brokerage company for that. I don’t play games in business, Mr. Simone.”
“I’m glad to hear that. And yet, here you are, Mr. Holliday. Playing a reality game that is being watched by millions of folks all around the
world. Don’t play a game with Elle’s heart.”
Dan looked at the young stylist and tried to determine if he was serious or trying to be funny. Given the look on Pierre’s face, Dan knew he was warning him in all seriousness. Dan turned back to the screen. “I have no intention of hurting Elle, so your warning is misplaced. If you excuse me, I have a show to produce.” He turned back to the screen, dismissing Pierre.
“The winning couple will be selected based on several criteria: your holiday spirit, your way with children, your creativity, your knowledge of holiday traditions in other countries, and the way you perform the expectations of a Mr. and Mrs. Santa.
“There are six days of competition. If you notice we have twelve couples, which means that we will be eliminating two couples every evening. On the last night, Christmas Eve, the final two couples will compete in the challenges of all challenges and the winner will be announced.
“The winning couple will win $50,000 and a donation of $10,000 to the charity of their choice.”
The sound of applause carried through the speaker. Elle looked directly in the camera and Dan thought she was looking at him. The television audience would eat that up.
She smiled at the camera. “Welcome. To. The last Santa standing.”
“And cut,” a voice called out.
Elle was having a ball. She had never worked with a nicer group of people than the couples that were competing for the title of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. They filmed during the day when it was light outside and each evening, they congregated around the floor to ceiling fireplace and told stories, ate popcorn and drank cocoa.
Dan and Marcy joined them, and even one night Mr. Holliday senior stopped by to give his praise of the show. Elle could see Dan glow under his father’s praise. She had to turn away. Even looking at him hurt her heart.
Each one had their own story and experiences, but each was a Santa and Mrs. Claus in their own heart. Over the past few weeks she had become close to most of the couples.
There were four couples left in the competition. The other eight had been eliminated from competition when the other Santas iced their name on a cookie.
Today was the last day of filming before the live show on Christmas Eve. Elle couldn’t believe they were into December already. Even more, she couldn’t believe that she was becoming acclimated to the cold.
Dancing To The Altar (Holliday Islands Resort Book 2) Page 8
