But he didn’t look at her.
She waited for a moment, and he still didn’t look. So she left.
The wet snow had frozen onto the pavement. The sidewalk crunched beneath her feet. The walk home would be treacherous, and she knew she wasn’t going to pay attention.
So she walked the half block to the Sedgwick Station and took the L home. By the time she got there, she felt as bad as she had the night she met Niko.
What was wrong with her? Why did she always feel like she needed to walk away from that man? And why did she feel guilty afterwards?
She let out a breath as she removed the boots.
Because she believed him. Because she believed in fairy tales. Because she believed in magic.
And she wanted to be rational enough not to.
7
SHE SPENT THE next month researching and digging and searching and blogging about small things while looking into the big thing.
The big thing was magic and fairy tales and Claus & Company. The big thing was that kiss, which she couldn’t get out of her mind. The big thing was that pair of boots, which she looked up on the Internet and found that there were no other boots like them anywhere—not on eBay, not on Craig’s List, not on someone’s Pinterest page.
The boots were unique, they had no wear-and-tear, and they still fit, after years and years and years.
They were hers, and no one else’s. No one else had a pair like that.
The perfect boots.
She also researched the Uplift Foundation. She had no trouble finding its non-profit documents, its tax records, its backers, and its financial situation. Everything was as Niko said: He didn’t take a salary and he paid for the overhead out of his own pocket. He’d had to get some kind of legal exemption to do that, but he had, and it would all live beyond him.
The other backers were names she recognized, many of whom were very active in Chicago charities, others active nationwide. The fund had already established a bridge program for needy kids so that they would get meals when school was not in session. There were plans on the drawing board for a new kind of shelter (still under discussion) and ways to keep children in dangerous neighborhoods safe after school and on weekends.
There was very little promotional material about the Uplift Foundation. It sounded like a need-to-know organization. But it did have a website and a mission statement: To provide opportunities for every single child in the Greater Chicago area, no matter what the child’s circumstances, no matter what the challenges.
She loved that mission. She loved that dream.
And after she had done her research, after she understood that people with both millions of dollars and private detectives on the payroll believed in Niko enough to give him cash to run his organization, she realized that she was being too judgmental.
Niko believed in magic and fairy tales and Santa Claus. If he saw himself as part of a great lineage of fairy tale creatures, so what? It didn’t matter. Maybe those were the things that he told himself to get by at night, to make it through the days.
She had told herself a lot of untrue things to survive her childhood. And she liked peering around the edges, just like she had that day she met him—not just staring at the rich, but believing that sometimes even the most mundane events could produce just a bit of magic.
That dance at that mansion in Lincoln Park had produced magic. It had conjured Niko North and inserted him into her life.
He was a good man. She knew it; she could sense it. And even if she didn’t trust her instincts (and she clearly didn’t), other people believed the same thing. Enough to support him on a crazy project that even if he had had the backing of Claus & Company, it would still take a miracle to pull off—at least, on as large a scale as he wanted to.
She had taken a lot of risks in her life, but the one risk she had never taken, the one risk she had been unwilling to take, was with her heart.
It was time. Actually, it was past time.
She hoped he would give her one last chance.
8
SHE COULD HEAR the laughter from a block away. Despite the cold, the doors to DiGillio’s were open, and the laughter from inside had spilled into the neighborhood like the warmth was spilling onto the patio.
The restaurant was clearly past capacity and no one seemed to care. Somehow she managed to squeeze past the parents clutching their flocks of children, the grandparents looking on, and the restaurant staff dressed like Santa’s elves.
She found a place to stand near the back. She climbed on a chair and leaned against the wall. From her perch, she could see the gigantic Christmas tree near the fireplace. The most amazing Santa stood in front of it, holding a toddler above his head. The toddler, a little boy, was squealing with laughter. Santa twirled him and then set him down.
The boy ran off, holding a gift that Raine hadn’t seen Santa give him. A young mother scooped the boy up, asking him what he got. His answer was lost in the general din, but his look of pleasure was not.
All of the children here looked happy. So did the parents. So did the restaurant staff.
And Santa—fat and jolly and shaking like a bowl full of jelly—appeared to be having the time of his life.
The air around him sparkled, and more than once she’d seen an amazing twinkle flash from his eyes.
She watched in silence as the holiday brunch ended, with candy canes for everyone and a mighty ho-ho-ho from Santa himself.
DiGillio—the ugliest elf she had ever seen—somehow managed to get the guests out of the restaurant. They left laughing, exclaiming about the experience, comparing notes, and comparing presents.
She climbed down off the chair, using the wall to brace herself. Then she felt a hand at her back.
Santa stood behind her, helping her stay balanced. Up close, his youth was apparent. His eyes were a deep blue, and he looked a little unsure of himself.
She was unsure of herself, too. She wasn’t sure how to talk to him.
“Brett is right,” she said. “You’re the best Santa I’ve ever seen.”
Niko smiled—his smile, not the bow-lipped Santa smile. “Thank you.”
He paused, as if he were waiting for something. Probably her apology.
“I—.” She stopped herself. “I, um, want to say that I’m sorry…”
He put a gloved finger over her lips. “No. No apologies. Just a question.”
At first, she thought he meant she could ask him a question, but his finger remained.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. She would have to step away from him to answer, or pull his hand aside or something.
“Because I do,” he said. “That’s real magic. You look at someone, say, across a snowy yard, and you know, you just know, that person was waiting for you.”
She ducked her head to one side. She couldn’t help herself. She was a reporter and a realist. “Love’s a pretty big word,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “It is.”
She stared at him. He tugged on the beard, and it came off as if nothing had held it in place. But she knew dozens of little hands had tugged on it too, and in those instances, it had stayed on.
“Do you believe in it?” he asked.
“Love at first sight?” She thought for a second. Attraction, maybe. But that moment when he appeared behind her, wearing a tuxedo and looking like something out of her dreams, that was the moment she’d thought of instantly when he had asked the question.
“It’s like magic, isn’t it? Love?” he asked, unable or unwilling to wait for her answer. “You don’t believe in it until it happens to you.”
She smiled at him. “Magic’s a big word too.”
He shrugged one red-clad shoulder. “There was a lot of magic here today.”
“And happy children,” she said.
He nodded.
She could ignore his questions. She could take this one hour at a time, rather like she’d planned
when she got here. But she had been thinking about risk—and taking risks.
“I think there are different kinds of magic, like there are different kinds of love,” she said. “I think what you did here today, that was magic.”
He froze, like he had that day of the press conference.
“But I also think that getting people to support a new charity, one you really believe in, is a kind of magic. Just like breaking away from an old system, one you don’t believe in, takes a kind of courage that most people never have.”
He let out a breath.
“I’m really cautious about some things,” she said. “My heart. I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight.”
He looked down, and then away, like he had that day a few weeks ago, the day she had walked out on him again.
“But I believe that the world gives you second and third chances to fall for the right person,” she said. “This is my third chance.”
His head snapped toward hers. It was so odd to see his handsome face beneath a shock of white hair. She knew she was seeing his future. One day, he would look like Santa Claus, whether he was or not.
“And?” he asked.
“And,” she said, “I’m going to take it, if you’re still willing.”
“Willing to what?” he asked.
“Show me magic,” she said. “Let me help you build the Uplift Foundation. Kiss me again.”
He grinned. “I can do those things.”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
He let out a small laugh, then leaned forward, hands around her waist, pulling her close despite the fake belly. He kissed her. His flavor, the same as before, chocolate and peppermint, and something else, something so him she wondered how she had lived without it.
Maybe she didn’t believe in love at first sight. Maybe she needed evidence of magic.
But this, this moment, it was going a long way to convincing her.
He broke the kiss, and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he said softly.
She smiled. “Is that a good thing?”
“Oh, yes,” he said.
“I’ve never met anyone like you either,” she said, and then she kissed him again.
She was falling in love. She could feel it. Just like she felt magic around her. It didn’t matter if it was true magic or just the magic of the holiday.
But it was real to her.
And to him.
This time, she broke the kiss. “I can help you. With the Uplift Foundation, with promotion—”
“Later.” His lips brushed hers. “We’ll think about all of that later.”
“What are we going to think about now?” she asked playfully.
“Nothing,” he said, “Except…”
He leaned away from her and looked at DiGillio.
“Got a room?” Niko asked him.
DiGillio laughed. “I thought you would never ask.”
He pointed to a door near the Christmas tree. Niko wrapped Raine in his arms and half-led her, half-carried her to the back.
Once inside the room, he closed the door, and peeled off the top of his fat suit. He was perfectly proportioned. He put his arms around her, and pulled her close.
“Christmas magic,” he said softly.
She laughed. “Show me how it works,” she said.
And so he did.
Keep in the holiday spirit with Fiction River: Christmas Ghosts, edited by Kristine Grayson and available from your favorite bookseller.
Be the first to know!
Just sign up for the Kristine Grayson newsletter, and keep up with the latest news, releases and so much more—even the occasional giveaway.
So, what are you waiting for? Click here to sign up or go to kristinegrayson.com.
But wait! There’s more. Sign up for the WMG Publishing newsletter, too, and get the latest news and releases from all of the WMG authors and lines, including Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Dean Wesley Smith, Fiction River: An Original Anthology Magazine, Smith’s Monthly, and so much more.
Click here to sign up or go to wmgpublishing.com.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Called “The Reigning Queen of Paranormal Romance” by Best Reviews, bestselling author Kristine Grayson has made a name for herself publishing light, slightly off-skew romance novels about Greek Gods, fairy tale characters, and the modern world.
She writes romantic suspense as Kristine Dexter and historical mysteries as Kris Nelscott. She also writes in a variety of genre, from literary to science fiction to contemporary romance, under her real name—Kristine Kathryn Rusch. She has won dozens of awards for her writing.
As Kristine Grayson, she also edits the romance volumes of Fiction River: An Original Anthology Magazine.
For more information about her work, go to the Kristine Grayson website and sign up for her newsletter.
Look for These Other Titles from Kristine Grayson
The Fates Trilogy:
Simply Irresistible
Absolutely Captivated
Totally Spellbound
The Interim Fates:
Tiffany Tumbles
Crystal Caves
Brittany Bends
Holiday Novellas:
Up on the Rooftop
Visions of Sugarplums
Dressed in Holiday Style
Sign up for the WMG Publishing newsletter to receive updates about new releases, bonus content and more at wmgpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Introduction
Up on the Rooftop
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
Visions of Sugar Plums
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
EPILOGUE
Dressed in Holiday Style
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Newsletter Signup
About the Author
Look for These Other Titles from Kristine Grayson
Copyright Information
Santa Series: Three Stories of Magical Holiday Romance Page 27
