All I Want for Christmas

by Hadley Raydeen

  I eyed Marshall at the far end of the table. I’m pretty sure he helped me with that bottle of Jameson that night I wound up in the parking lot, but he still wouldn’t admit it. He was my finance guy. He’d crunched the numbers and figured out what stores were turning a profit and which we’d had to cut loose.

  “Steve,” I said, looking at the man sitting to my left, “once Marshall gives you the green light, you find us stores that can bring in the new tenants.”

  “I’m on it, Cap’n.” He gave a fake salute, mimicking what I usually said to my father when he pulled on his, ‘bossy britches’ as my mother called them.

  I rolled my eyes at Steve and looked at Tanya. She’d stuck with the company, though she was still a pain in my ass and trying to find her way back into my bed. But, I’d not been that weak in some time. It didn’t quite sit right with me how she’d left me drunk and damn-near passed out in a car while she hopped in rideshare with some randoms from this mall that night. Though she did call Jules to come and get me, I guess I shouldn’t be overly pissed. I’d kept an eye on her these last ten years in case she’d do something equally as shady. So far, she’d been an asset and not so much a hindrance.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, none-the-less, making sure I had her attention, and my intention was clear. “You already know your job.”

  Most people would dread these conversations, but not her. She was looking forward to it. Maybe that is what bothered me about her. Who liked giving bad news, especially at Christmas? I know I didn’t want to have to do it. I already had too much on my plate, keeping my father off my back. A good leader delegates and that is what I’d do. Plus, it was part of her job as a Tenant Relations Manager.

  “I want reports on my desk by the end of the week. We can reconvene to work on a game plan after—”

  My speech was short-lived, cut short as sounds of an alarm blared overhead.

  “I swear to God if it’s not one thing after the next,” Tanya mumbled. She eyed Julian, who sat directly across from her and also worked for me as the Lead of Asset Loss Prevention when he was off duty as a cop. At that moment, his cell phone began to buzz. Without missing a beat, he put the phone on speaker, so we all could hear. “Speak to me, Kyle; what the hell is going on out there?”

  Kyle was the supervisor of mall security and reported directly to Julian.

  “We have a runner, Sir.”

  Julian put a hand to his head. ‘“Tell me you have a handle on this. Do I need to come down?”

  The guys are after him now. It’s, um...it’s Santa.”

  “Santa?” Clara put a hand to her mouth—probably because it was the most absurd thing anyone had heard.

  Santa stealing at Christmas time?

  “What the hell do you mean it’s Santa?” Julian barked into the phone.

  “Yea, I know it sounds a bit crazy. But, the lingerie store down on floor one had a Santa in for the holidays; it seems he has a penchant for...panties.

  Tanya snorted into her coffee. “I have heard it all.”

  I take in the sight of everyone sitting around the table while listening to the frazzled supervisor on the other end of the line.

  I pushed back from the table, stood and exited the room.

  “Where are you going, Bryson?” I heard Clara call after me.

  “To see why in the hell there is a thieving St. Nick running around my mall!” I threw the comment over my shoulder. If they wanted to sit around the table and listen to incompetent Kyle and his team of rent-a-cops bumble through the great Santa Caper, that was on them; but, I had no problem getting up to see what’s going on around me. I walked out into the hallway and looked over the railing, three floors down, to the main area of the mall. Kyle was not lying. I watched as a man dressed in an over-sized Santa suit, ran through the mall with an arm full of...panties.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” I mumbled to myself as two security guards chased after him. I turned in time to see a black female sprint alongside the overweight, and clearly out of shape, security officers right before she open-field tackled Santa the Sniper.

  “Holy Shit! Hot Damn!” Marshall and Steve exclaim at the same time behind me.

  “Who in the hell is that?” I asked as the woman stood and put a high heel boot on Santa’s back as he lay face-planted into the floor of the mall. The two guards, who would receive a gym membership as a Christmas bonus, caught up with her and handcuffed the thief.

  The woman, whose legs went on for days in those hooker-high heels, flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and leaned over to pick up the women’s delicates from the ground, surrounding Santa.

  “Speak to me. Who on earth is that woman that just took down Santa?” Jules barked into the phone.

  We all watched as Kyle joined the two officers and the woman. “Ma’am, are you okay?” he asked.

  I could hear her talking through the phone. She caught her breath before responding, “I’m fine—the rewards of growing up with older brothers and playing football in the backyard after family dinner.” Her voice sounded like music almost, low and husky. I felt a smile creep across my face for the first time in a while.

  “How unladylike?” Tanya said, joining me beside the railing.

  “I want her name.” I turned to Tanya.

  “What on earth for?” Tanya met my gaze, her brown eyes flashed with annoyance.

  “You are head of Tenant Relations—go relate.” I turned away, feeling her glare burn a hole in me as Clara snorted at my comment.

  “How do you know she works here?” Tanya asked, her voice biting.

  “She does,” Jules confirmed, hanging up with Kyle. “She is the owner of the boutique that was just robbed. “She was getting her merch back, one way or the other.” He shrugged.

  “That a girl—taking care of business. I like it.” Clara clapped her hands together with glee.

  “Well, I’ve never seen such a thing. She should have just let the guys handle it.” Tanya inspected her hands as if the other woman’s actions made Tanya break a nail.

  “Ha! If she had waited on them, her product would be out the mall doors by now,” Marshall scoffed. “You need to reevaluate your staff, my man.” He pointed at Julian before walking away from the rail.

  “You worry about your department, money man; I’ll worry about mine,” Jules retorted, walking in the opposite direction, no doubt to go downstairs to see about the Santa fiasco.

  Tanya popped her gum and stomped after Steve and Marshall, back into the executive office suite.

  Clara laid a hand on my arm, stopping me from joining them. “I don’t want to intrude, Brys; I know you are a good man, and you want to see the best for this mall. You’ve done it before, I know you will do it again. But, you should really reconsider...some things,” she said, looking after Tanya’s retreating back.

  “What?” I asked, not catching her drift at first.

  “Some people,” she clarified, just as the door closed behind Tanya.

  “Oh, no, Clara. That is not a thing, trust me.” She raised a brow at me and put a hand on her hip. “Okay, Okay. I admit, there was something between us at one time, but that was ages ago.”

  We’d worked our way up the ranks after that graduation night, me, through hard work and determination, and Tanya, I feared by sleeping with half of the executives on my dad’s team. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  “I know she was a high school and college fling. But, she will find any way to get her hooks back in you, and you are too nice of a guy for that. I’d like to see you successful at this job not dragged into her…B.S.”

  “Oh my, Clara. Did you just use ‘a swear?’” I put my hand to my mouth like she did when she heard about the Santa panty thief, all while using her vernacular.

  “Stop it.” She swatted my arm. “Besides, your mother is one of my dearest friends, and she would have my hide if I let that conniving girl get the better of you.”

  I laughed. “I appreciate you worrying about me, Clara. And,
Mom won’t have your hide for the holidays. I won’t be pulled back into Tanya’s shenanigans; I promise. But, for now, we need to figure out a way to get this mall back up and running. I’m committed to doing that in any way necessary. I know you will help me with that, right?”

  The older woman smiled at me. “Of course.”

  Chapter Two

  Jamilya

  “You have to admit, that was some funny shit, Jamilya. I’ll be laughing about that until doomsday.” Janiya, my little sister and manager of the boutique, was still laughing about the entire scene that had just taken place.

  The Santa, mall management hired to sit in my shop, had just gone crazy on the panty display, grabbing a handful of thongs and boy shorts, before bolting for the door.

  “I did not see that coming.” Niya shook her head. “I thought he was a little strange when he asked ‘how do these panties feel against the skin? Ho ho ho'”

  “What the hell; when did he ask that? And, please don’t tell me he ‘ho ho ho’d’ after it. God, Niya, really?” I whipped my head in her direction as I continued folding the pile of panties I’d retrieved from the mall floor.

  “On his first day here, I swear to God, he said it,” she answered, standing beside me, folding like the pro she is.

  “Why on earth didn’t you say something? I would have had mall management kick his butt out.. We don’t need a skeevy, perve Santa here, in a lingerie store of all places. We have customers to consider. I don’t even know why they sent him down here in the first place.”

  I wish I could hire my own Christmas crew. It was strange how that Santa douche just showed up… Now, I find out he wanted to know how the panties felt?

  Gross.

  “I didn’t think much of it, because he asked during a rush. Which, you have to admit, we haven’t had much of those here, lately,” she said, looking around the place. Two women were checking out bras at the opposite end of the store.

  Our boutique, Sensual Essentials, had been a dream of mine since I’d been a girl. Not necessarily a lingerie store, but I’d wanted to own my own business; I accomplished that. My sister helped me manage the store since I still had my day job at the local newspaper. Next to being an entrepreneur, journalism was a close second on my list of things I’m passionate about.

  But, with sales tanking, due to the popularity of online retail, we were taking quite a hit this time of year. I hoped it would pick back up. All I wanted was to end the year on a high note.

  “I don’t think the idea of a Santa here went over too well with the customers anyway. Who wants a creepy looking Santa staring at them while they are buying a sexy nightie for Christmas Eve?” I scrunch my face up while arranging panties on the table.

  “What we need is a sexy Santa to sit over in that corner, while the ladies shop. I’m sure that would bring them in.” Niya let out a whistle. “Telling Santa all kinds of naughty things. Mm-hmm, Santa…all I want for Christmas is...” She let the question linger with a grin.

  I looked up at Niya. “That isn't a half-bad idea. I could always put out a help wanted ad in the paper for guys in the area that would be interested in being a sexy Santa. Maybe a college student on holiday break who could use the extra cash, right? And, it would be someone we hire…we vet, not someone the mall provides. That way, we don’t run into this shit we just had to deal with. I’m sure the female shoppers would like a male perspective on the items they buy for their man. Oh! And, you know millennials love taking pictures and selfies. I'm sure they would be down for that. They could tag themselves on our Social Media pages and get the word out about our store.”

  “Just so I get to interview the sexy Santas,” Niya announced, folding the last pair of panties and tossing it on top of the pile.

  “We'll both interview. You aren’t getting all the eye candy to yourself, Sister. I will put the ad in at work tomorrow. We can write what we want it to say tonight and see what kinda hits we get. Just so it’s not anymore thieving creepers—”

  We both jumped when someone cleared their throat behind us. I turn to see a woman, sharply dressed from head to toe, with her nose high in the air, looking at both Niya and me with scrutiny written all over her face. It was the same face she used on me when we were in high school.

  Tanya Cavanaugh.

  This girl was the bane of my existence in my senior year. She did everything in her power to make my life miserable, from calling me names to tripping me in the hallway. It was all for attention to look better in front of her popular friends and her quarterback boyfriend, Bryson Tillerman. She may have been intimidating in high school, but too many years had passed, and I was a totally different person than I was back then. She’d already been here once already, trying my patience. She’d brought that Santa down and told us he would be stationed in our store—of all stores. Something about it never did sit right with me. She was up to something. I’d get to the bottom of it.

  “Hello, Mily.” She smirked, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder and standing with the other hand on her hip.

  “I don’t go by ‘Mily’ anymore, Tanya. It’s Jamilya. What can I do for you?” I heard the irritation in my tone. I didn’t want to give her that, though. She never deserved it even though she was able to get it out of me so many times. I try to plaster on a smile, but I know it’s just as fake as she is.

  “Yes, so you know I'm with Property Management.”

  Whatever, you only work for the Tillermans, cause your daddy is their friend. You have no experience whatsoever.

  When I don’t acknowledge her little ‘title drop’, she continues, “I wanted to talk with you about some changes we are looking to implement after the new year. One of them would be to your rent and the setup of your shop,” she said the word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “Management is raising rent?” Janiya asked.

  “I'm sorry, you are?” The woman turned her nose up in my sister’s direction.

  Niya glanced at me with a look that said, ‘girl, you better get this snooty heffa outta here.’

  “This is Janiya Hawkins, my sister. She manages the day to day of the shop for me.” I stepped in before Niya delivered a high heel to the side of this woman’s head.

  Oh, a pleasure,” she said, glancing back at Niya briefly. “I put a hand on my sister’s shoulder before she pounced. This woman was one second away from a tongue lashing like she’d never seen before if she kept up with the snark.

  She looked around the store again. “It’s not very busy in here for this time of year. Is it always like that?”

  I cleared my throat before answering, “Tanya, what kind of changes are we talking, besides the increase in rent?”

  I could feel my temper flaring. Not only did she come down here saying she was ‘making changes’ that would cost me more money, but she was rude to my sister and insulted my store in true Tanya fashion. But, this woman controlled my business location, and I couldn’t snip at the hand that fed me; but everyone has a boss. I knew she worked for the Tillermans, but I wondered if it was for the father or son?

  Thoughts of Bryson Tillerman crossed my mind. I’d written about him in the article I just released on the front page of the newspaper. He’d been good-looking in high school, but he was another level of handsome as a man. I had a few pictures to choose from for the article, but I took care of inspecting each one to show off just how fine this man really was—brown eyes, dark hair, chiseled jaw with just a hint of a five o’clock shadow as a covering. I’d pay the extra rent, plus some, just to know how that whisker burn would feel right between my thighs…

  “Jamilya!” my sister cut into my dirty thoughts about the guy I had a crush on as a teen and now shamelessly lusted after as a woman. “Are you okay?” Niya raised a brow at me. “You got really quiet and have a weird look on your face like you’re a million miles away.”

  “Yea, Sis, I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I have been at this location for almost a year, Tanya. Sensual Essenti
als has done just fine, so far. We have ended every quarter in the black. I don’t see why this year-end would be any different.” I stared squarely at the smug face in front of me.

  “Well, that’s nice,” she said without an ounce of sincerity in the statement, turning from me and running her hand over one of the pairs of panties we‘d just folded. “These are cute.” She picked up a pair of black lace trimmed with pink satin ribbon tied in a bow in the front.

  “There are bras that match right over there,” Niya offered, as the ever promising saleswoman.

  “Is that so?” Tanya looked in the direction she’d pointed.

  “Yes, what size are you—an A-cup?” Niya asked sweetly, but I know she bared her claws.

  She might as well called her, ‘flat-chested bitch.’ I hid my smirk. The woman’s mouth fell open as she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I am a 34-B, thank you very much.”

  I hadn’t been a 34-B since I graduated from junior high school. I wished, once upon a time, I was her size. But, I learned to live in the skin I’m in.

  “We have that. We accommodate most sizes,” I said, turning back with the matching bra in her size. “This would look great on you. It will turn the man in your life right on.” It literally hurt my face fake smiling at her.

  And, I pray to God that man isn’t still Bryson…she didn’t deserve him.

  “Gotta catch him first,” she mumbled.

  “I’m sorry; what was that?” Niya asked.

  “Nothing. I’ll take it and the panties in medium,” Tanya said, digging in her bag for her wallet.

  I flipped through the neatly folded stack of panties for her size and walked the set over to the register.

  I rang her items and gave her the total. As she handed over her platinum card, I traded for her black bag with pink tissue paper and her receipt. She, in turn, handed me a white envelope.