Santa Cam

by Maria Hoagland

  But then Seattle had happened. Five months ago, he’d taken his one free weekend from his team in New York City to head to Seattle to see his on-again, off-again girlfriend Mary Alice Howe. With his busy schedule and the fact that she’d moved back home three thousand miles away, things hadn’t exactly been great between them for months, so he’d gone to see if there was actually something there other than friendship.

  That particular weekend, Mary Alice had some kind of community cleanup event she was spearheading, something insanely important to her, so he’d decided to support her. Upon discovering his plans, Cam’s agent had contacted the local news and urged Cam to make the most of the opportunity. Not necessarily excited about helping himself out, Cam had reconciled with the idea that favorable press would help Mary Alice’s cause as much as his own, and he’d consented.

  Unfortunately, the reporter had gone completely off script. Seizing an opportunity to expose the new CEO of a worldwide aeronautics company, the reporter had forgotten all about making Camden look good in favor of making Mary Alice’s friend look bad. Things had quickly gone from bad to worse for Cam when he’d realized he no longer had Mary Alice’s attention and never had had her heart. Somehow, the reporter left Cam looking petty and immature where he would have easily stepped back with relief to allow Mary Alice and Ryland to be together. That had been the worst part of it for him.

  Even though that had been difficult, just because that opportunistic reporter had used him in Seattle didn’t mean Jocelyn had anything up her sleeve besides looking to report the local news. And yet, despite the fact that he’d given countless interviews since leaving New York for Dallas, anxiety had crept in. He had to find a way to trust again.

  Even as he stepped up to Jocelyn and the microphone, Camden looked over at Talia, searching for and finding comfort in her presence. Maybe he didn’t know her well, but after their easy back-and-forth tonight, he felt like with her he’d found the other half of his team. She was the elf to his Santa, and that was rare indeed. Warmth spread through his chest.

  As he concentrated on her face, a spark of doubt flickered in. He knew her from somewhere, and it wasn’t just the car dance or the cookie delivery. It was something significant. He searched his memory carefully, but after the gazillion people he met every year throughout every major city in the country, he simply couldn’t place her.

  8

  Talia couldn’t keep her eyes off of Camden, the only man who made a Santa suit look good. There was just something so magical about a man unafraid to give himself over so fully to the role he was playing. He was a natural with kids, completely comfortable in jumping into their world and making them feel good about themselves.

  Interrupting Cam and the kids, the reporter, Jocelyn Bartholomew, brought the microphone over to Hazel, who clammed up immediately. Jocelyn gave up without trying very hard to get the girl to talk, and turned her attention to Camden alone.

  As Jocelyn started her segment with him, Talia watched the Davis family’s exit—the family members joking and smiling as they left Santa. One of the boys pushed the wheelchair, pretending his sister weighed so much he could barely get it to move. Holding hands, the parents walked along behind their kids looking perfectly happy. One look and Talia was zapped with an unexpected pang of longing. A husband and kids had always been a dream sometime in the vague future, but watching Camden with the kids and the joy the parents had despite their obvious challenges left Talia wishing that dream could come true for her sooner rather than later.

  Jocelyn was still talking. “Here to represent DFW United is all-star midfielder Camden Sharpe.”

  The name in context with soccer brought understanding shooting through her like lightning. Camden Sharpe, professional soccer player. Of course. It hadn’t been just the car dance she’d recognized him from. The realization was like balm on a burn, and just as temporary. The guilt she’d felt toward him had been ongoing and nagging, and now that she could pinpoint the source, she should feel better, but she didn’t.

  The circumstances of their previous encounter came crashing through like a tsunami. Back in Seattle, Camden Sharpe had been her original assignment. If only she’d stuck with covering the community cleanup project and the visiting pro soccer player who was volunteering there. But that wasn’t how the day had played out.

  Her mouth went dry. She didn’t remember exactly how she’d treated Camden that day, but he’d been nothing more than a means to an end. He had tried to charm her; she remembered that well, because it had frustrated her at the time, but he’d done it on purpose. Because of him, the ones she wanted to focus on had made their escape. Now, she was grateful he’d kept her from making things worse than they had turned out, but what if Camden remembered her, remembered that day? What must he be thinking of her? She felt like she might faint.

  Talia tried to focus on Jocelyn’s words.

  “Camden was acquired from New York City’s team this past summer, and we’re lucky here in the Dallas–Fort Worth metroplex to have him on our team.” Jocelyn turned from looking at the camera to directly at the man in the Santa costume. “What do you think of Texas, Camden?”

  “I have to be honest with you, Jocelyn—” Camden began.

  For a breath of a second, Talia thought he would disparage Texas—a terrible idea if he wanted the fans to embrace him.

  “Texas is great. Even better than everyone makes it out to be.”

  There came that pro-athlete charm. The reporter beamed, accepting his words as if he were complimenting her personally.

  “The team is fantastic,” he continued. “The players are talented, the coaching staff insightful, the management fair, and the fans are top notch. I’d worried I wouldn’t get used to the heat—it was a real challenge when I came to play on the visiting team—but now that I’ve acclimated, I can’t think of better temperatures for year-round play.”

  He shook the Santa hat and beard in his hand. “Not sure it’s the best weather for Christmas, but . . .” He laughed easily, proving he wasn’t picking on Texas. “Tonight, I was introduced to a down-home Texas Christmas and people who truly want to help. As you’ve seen with Hazel and her family, Hartford Hope truly makes a difference in people’s lives. I’ve noticed that of the good people here. Y’all are the best! Thank you, Dallas–Fort Worth, for allowing me to be a small part of that.”

  He turned his mesmerizing smile on Jocelyn again, and Talia worked not to wrinkle her nose at his insincerity. He was so genuine with the kids, but with reporters, not so much. Yet noticing this . . . flaw . . . made him feel all the more real to Talia, and for a fake Santa, that was a pretty great thing. His “y’all” even sounded half natural.

  Jocelyn Bartholomew and her crew cleared out, leaving Talia and Camden, Ed and his staff, and a couple of stragglers in the wide-open room.

  “Looks like we’re done.” Camden seemed neither relieved nor disappointed, though he spoke low, his eyes slowly scanning the room behind her.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Having made the connection to their time in Seattle, she wasn’t sure she could joke with him as if nothing was wrong, not when he could be secretly seething over it.

  “Planning your escape?” she asked. He was probably just making sure there were no forgotten children. “You must have big evening plans.”

  Talia was an idiot for asking. She wasn’t angling for an invitation or anything. The family had already celebrated her birthday, and Talia’s own big plans centered around going through the evening’s footage for her MyHeartChannel angle. Just because they’d spent a pleasant evening together didn’t mean their interaction should extend outside this event.

  “I’m not sure packing for my trip tomorrow qualifies as ‘big plans,’ but I guess you could say I’m excited.” He unbuttoned the red coat as they spoke.

  “A trip does sound exciting.” Images of white sandy beaches, blue water, and swaying palm trees came to mind, but that was Talia’s version of the dream vacation. As an athlete
, maybe his ideal was snow skiing or some other such bitter-cold horribleness.

  “I never miss Christmas at home if I can help it, and I’ve been pretty lucky not to have missed any so far.”

  He didn’t seem the slightest affected and talked to her as he had all evening. Maybe it was okay to let her guard back down. If he didn’t remember her, she didn’t need to obsess over it.

  “Yes, I heard you bashing Texas Christmas weather on camera. Please don’t tell me you’re one of those who wants something cliché like snow at Christmas,” Talia teased.

  “That was bashing?” He looked concerned, probably running through his words.

  “Oh, don’t look so worried.” She blew it off with a wave of her hand. Everything was about image with these pro athletes, wasn’t it? “Being Santa was the perfect publicity stunt. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

  The worry melted from his face. She wouldn’t allow him to be comfortable long, though. “This little conversation—” She motioned between the two of them. “—has made me wonder how sincere you actually are, or if it really was just a media opportunity.”

  Cam’s head reared back in lighthearted defiance. “By the way, snow is not cliché. It’s classic.”

  So he was just going to ignore her comment about it being a publicity stunt. Interesting.

  If he wanted to parse her word choice, she’d give him another. “Traditional.” She kept her tone flat and disapproving as if she wasn’t a fan of traditional Christmases; there was no way for him to know she was.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Traditional is not synonymous with boring.”

  She quirked her eyebrow—or at least she tried—right back at him. “I didn’t say that it was; however, you don’t need snow to have a traditional Christmas.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Traditional could mean something different to everyone.

  He frowned. “I feel sorry for you.” He shook his head in mock solemnity. “But I guess if all you’ve ever experienced is Texas’s fake Christmas, you wouldn’t know any better.” He laid a heavy hand on each of her shoulders and looked down at her.

  She pretended to bristle at the slight and stepped back until he dropped his hands. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. It had been nice having that closeness.

  “That’s rich—” She reached out and gave his fake beard a playful tug. “—coming from a fake Santa.”

  “Those kids weren’t complaining.”

  No, they certainly weren’t. She couldn’t recall one child who had left with a scowl or a tear.

  It was time to head home, but Talia needed to grab her keys and clothes. “I’ve got stuff in the employee lounge. You?”

  They started walking that way. Ed was chatting with a couple of the remaining guests, but his employees were starting to move furniture, empty trash containers, and sweep the floor. Camden followed her back down the maze-like hallways to the restricted areas, and she continued their conversation.

  “Where’s home for you?” she asked.

  They turned the corner where no one else could see them, and Camden snatched the hat and beard off. He’d taken it off for the TV interview, but had put it on again as soon as he was away from the camera. Now, he rubbed his hair vigorously and gave as satisfied and relieved a sigh as she’d ever heard.

  “Cobble Creek, Wyoming. A small town outside of Jackson that no one’s ever heard of.”

  “Sounds like a place that gets its share of clichéd snow.”

  “And then some.” He grinned, obviously filled with happy memories. Again, when he got to the door, he opened and held it for her.

  Inside, a man in a rumpled Ed’s Family Fun polo scowled at them. “You’re not going to throw away any trash in here, are you? I just emptied it.” He tucked a stringy lock of gray hair behind his ear, but it popped back out when he leaned over his broom handle.

  Talia wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be offended. One look at Camden, though, and she bit back her reaction. The two ignored the employee to say their goodbyes to each other.

  “It was great working with you, Jingle the Elf.” Camden reached out a hand and offered a warm smile. “I hope you have a very merry, traditional-without-snow Texas Christmas and a happy new year full of new career opportunities.”

  That confused her for a moment before she remembered she’d told him elfing was her new career. “Nice to—” She stopped herself from finishing with “see you again.” She wasn’t meeting him for the first time, so she couldn’t say that either. And if he didn’t remember her from Seattle—and he didn’t seem to—then she wasn’t about to remind him.

  It was interesting, though. When she’d met him before, he’d been charming and nice, purposefully distracting her from her target, but he hadn’t flirted with her like he was now. She found she kind of liked this side of him. “Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” She floundered, trying to decide on the right words. “Enjoy your snow.”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  She gathered her tote bag and then waved at Camden and the surly janitor. Her discussion with Camden about “fake Christmas” had inspired her. By every yardstick she could think of, Camden had been the perfect Santa—outgoing and friendly, funny and encouraging.

  Similarly, she was willing to give Hartford Hope the benefit of the doubt. While Camden had been wrapping up with Jocelyn and chatting with Zeke and Ed after the interview, she’d visited with and recorded interviews of her own with Kendall Hartford as well as Hazel and her parents. What she’d learned satiated her skepticism, and she was convinced it was legit.

  Maybe it was time to be a little less suspicious as a whole. Maybe it was time to believe. She wanted to believe Hartford Hope was the real deal. She wanted to believe Camden Sharpe was too. And although Dallas wasn’t what most people thought of as the perfect Christmas destination, it made for a pretty great backdrop to the happiest times in her childhood. Maybe it was time to concentrate on the good and share it with her viewers.

  Share the good. That might be a good slogan. Could it be a new series? How about See the Good? Maybe Christmas could save her channel and her sanity.

  Her mind sparked with ideas of how to take that idea and translate it into videos viewers could get interested in. Dallas–Fort Worth didn’t get inches of powdery snow at Christmas, but that didn’t mean the area didn’t have some pretty great holiday traditions, and her viewers could help generate a list of the best. Her body tingled with the excitement of the new project. Had she ever been so excited about starting a new series?

  A few hours’ worth of editing later, Talia had the bulk of her story in order. She just needed to put on the finishing touches.

  “What’s more common than a fake Santa at a shopping mall?” she said into her camera. “How about charity scams at Christmas? Talia’s Truth Cam digs into DFW’s own Hartford Hope, discovering if there’s any foundation for concern.”

  The scenes that followed included an explanation of the charity, that night’s event, and interviews with Hazel and her parents. And because there was so much good material, she couldn’t resist throwing in a snippet of the interaction between Santa Cam and the kids.

  “My conclusion?” she continued, talking to an audience who wasn’t there yet. “You know I was skeptical coming into this.” Otherwise, Talia wouldn’t have taken it on. “I see the good they are doing, and it warms my heart. If you want to bring joy to someone else this holiday season—or any time of year—Hartford Hope is a charity worth looking into. Contact them for volunteer opportunities, and if you want to donate, click the button below and help others have a very merry Christmas. All proceeds go straight to Hartford Hope this Christmas season.”

  She paused for a moment. “If you have your own experiences with Hartford Hope, comment below or share your own posts and videos with #SeeTheGood. This is Talia’s Truth Cam wishing you a very merry Christmas.”

  She approved the post and scheduled a few shorter, funny videos of conversations between
Santa Cam and the kids for release—one a day until they ran out. When she was done, she leaned back into her chair with a satisfied and exhausted sigh. It felt good to not even care about her own page views or making money for herself. If she could help families like Hazel’s, it was worth it.

  It was the best end to the biggest birthday she could remember, and the fact that it was three in the morning made her smile. She might be ten years past that college twenty, but she could still keep functional—and creative—past the midnight mark. She had a feeling that #SeeTheGood was going to turn out amazing.

  9

  Who knew playing Santa in a bowling alley could leave Camden with such a sense of fulfillment? Not that it was supposed to be that. Sure, it had started out as self-promotion—forced self-promotion by the manager—but as soon as he quit worrying about being Camden Sharpe, pro soccer player trying to make a good impression, and settled into being Santa Claus, purveyor of all things magical, it went from being about him to being about the kids. Amazing how being fake Santa could make him feel the most genuine.

  Fake Santa. Fake Christmas. Even now, a day later, that conversation with Talia stuck with him. He had thought about it while he packed his suitcase that night. While he brushed his teeth, he’d pictured how she wore that elf outfit without apology. Snippets of her kind, caring interactions with the kids had occurred to him as he walked through the house, turning off lights and securing doors. And he’d heard the melody of her voice and the gentle teasing of her words throughout his sleep cycle. She flitted through his dreams, an ethereal filament just out of reach when he turned over to find a comfortable position, and soothed him back to sleep with the memories gently lapping at the edge of his consciousness.

  To think he hadn’t wanted to be Santa. He’d been shocked that any kid would buy into him being Santa, and yet they had. He’d figured kids these days were much more cynical and savvy than he’d been at their age, and that they wouldn’t fall for it. Except, when it came down to it, they hadn’t been. They bought into it because they wanted to. There had to be a life lesson there.