The Billionaire’s Christmas Miracle: The Billionaires’ Christmas Gifts Romance

by Hale, Chelsea

  “Down to the boots and gloves. How do you do that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  “I know how to order clothes and ship them. There’s this new fancy thing called the Internet. Not sure if you’ve ever heard of it, but you can order just about anything from the comfort of your home. It’s pretty amazing.”

  He laughed. “I know how the internet works. But how did you know my size?” In fact he’d meant to give her all of the information and had been so preoccupied with the Forest Festival and with Hailey, that getting information back to Cara about the size for his Santa suit had slipped his mind.

  “I used your tux measurements.”

  “And my shoe size?”

  “You keep an extra pair in your office closet. I just gave them the brand and the size and they went to work on the rest.”

  “Well, you’re amazing and resourceful. Thank you.”

  “I’m just doing my job. If I had to wait until you gave me the information, it would be St. Patrick’s Day before you got a red suit, and how would that be helpful?” She laughed.

  “You’re right, that wouldn’t be helpful at all.”

  “So you like the suit? Be honest, but know that I bought the highest quality upgraded everything, and it’s all custom to you. And it’s non-refundable. So if it doesn’t work for you long-term, I suppose you could always donate it to a charitable foundation who needed a Santa suit or something.”

  He laughed. “This is exactly what I had in mind. It’s perfect.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “Take a picture. I want to see how it turned out.”

  “I’ll do that,” he said.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?”

  “Nothing else at the moment. Just keep everything running as smoothly as you can this week.”

  “Check your messages sometime today or tomorrow. I’m only sending you ones that I can’t delegate or solve myself. You don’t have much, but there are a few messages you’ll want.”

  “Thanks, Cara.”

  “No problem, boss.”

  Chapter 15

  Troy made it downstairs and surveyed the lobby. Some people glanced his way, but after a few strange looks they went back to what they’d been doing before he arrived in the lobby. A few people mingled, a few others drank coffee in solitude while reading the local paper that was set on each table. Hailey was nowhere in sight. That was good. Two high wing-backed chairs sat on one side of the fireplace. The gas fireplace seemed to create more ambiance than actual heat, but Troy was already feeling warm in his suit.

  Next time he’d wear cooler clothes underneath his suit—shorts and a t-shirt. He wanted to sit in the chair farther from the fireplace, but he wanted the look of him being closer to the fireplace when Hailey saw him. He wanted to get her first impression.

  He pulled the spectacles down farther on the bridge of his nose, thankful that the glasses didn’t actually have a prescription. He opened “The List” book halfway, pretending to be engrossed in the blank pages, just like he would with a novel. He fanned the pages. Every page was blank until he came to the last several pages in the book. There were instructions on talking about Santa’s Famous List.

  Guidelines included asking questions without judgment on whether or not someone had been naughty or nice. It focused on the positive, allowing for children to want the attention of saying that they’d been bad or deserved coal. Between this and the booklet he’d skimmed over quickly upstairs, the Santa Claus persona felt like an in-depth perspective on a whole different life.

  He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up expecting it to be Hailey. It wasn’t. A girl with dark ringlets and hazel eyes stared at him. She couldn’t have been more than four. He looked up to see her parents at a nearby table.

  The dad spoke first. “I’m sorry to bother you, uh, Santa, but she wanted to come and tell you what she wanted for Christmas. Is that okay?” The dad looked at him hesitantly.

  Troy looked between the dad and the mom. The mom looked earnestly at him.

  Troy nodded, but his mind went blank. He wasn’t really Santa. He’d had no training for this. Five minutes with a how-to manual was not training for how to talk to kids about what they wanted for Christmas. Sure he looked the part, but he had literally no clue what he was doing. He pulled from everything he’d just read. It had to be enough. It had to be what he needed.

  He smiled at the little girl, keeping his voice quiet, realizing just how conspicuous he was in the middle of the hotel lobby. “Ho, ho, ho,” he said. “And what’s your name?”

  She moved forward, immediately grabbing his gloved hands. “I’m Kenzie,” she said. “Are you Santa?” The girl’s hazel eyes seemed to pierce right through him.

  He looked toward the front desk where George seemed to be watching the scene with interest. Kenzie’s parents too, seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for his answer.

  He gave Kenzie the biggest smile he could, wondering if it could even be seen under his white beard. “That’s what people call me. But I have lots of names. Sometimes I go by Santa, and sometimes I go by Kris Kringle. And in other parts of the world I have other names.”

  He could almost catch Kenzie’s parents releasing their breath, relieved at his answer.

  Kenzie’s eyes widened. “I have more than one name too!” She said it loudly, with excitement. “My real name is McKenzie, but almost everyone calls me Kenzie. And sometimes my dad just calls me squirt. I don’t really know why he calls me that, but he does. I think it’s because maybe one time I squirt him with a water gun at the swimming pool.”

  The girl was delightful and Troy found his laugh coming out in another jolly, “Ho, ho, ho.”

  “Kenzie, I have a very important question to ask you.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes grew large, expectantly awaiting every word he spoke.

  “Have you been a good girl this year?”

  She nodded solemnly, like she was taking the question to heart.

  “And what are you hoping for, for Christmas?”

  Her eyes searched his. She leaned an elbow on one of his knees, propping her chin in her hand. “Can I ask you for anything?”

  How could he answer that question? He looked to her parents, who seemed just as interested in her answer. He smiled, wondering how much of his smile was actually seen through the snowy white curls that fell across his cheeks, mouth, and chin. At least it did a good job of covering up his own beard. He resisted the urge to pull the white hairs out of his mouth, not wanting to mess up his appearance, or give away the secret that he wasn’t the real Santa.

  “You can ask for anything,” he said, knowing that asking for something and actually getting it were mutually exclusive.

  She looked back at her parents, then turned to Troy. She curled one finger repeatedly, until he’d bent his ear low enough for her to whisper to him. “What I really want most of all for Christmas is a baby brother.” From the expressions on her parents’ faces it was evident that they’d heard her answer.

  Troy couldn’t read Kenzie’s parents’ expressions, but he stroked his beard, trying to appear ponderous as the wheels inside his head spun into overdrive. Nothing in his perusal of the Santa Booklet gave him any idea on how to answer her. He took a deep breath, hoping her parents would be okay with what he said. “Baby brothers or sisters are not something that I can bring in my sleigh.”

  “But I really want one,” she said.

  He nodded. “I’ll write it down on the list. Is there another thing you might want?”

  “You mean I can ask for two things?” The child’s wide eyes shimmered, as if she’d never considered asking for something else.

  He nodded again.

  “After a baby brother, I want my very own playhouse, with a bed for each of my stuffed animals.”

  “I’ll let my elves know,” he said, looking toward her parents. They nodded, smiles on their faces.

  As the mom walked hand in hand with Kenzie
toward the front doors of the hotel, the dad stayed behind.

  Troy stood, and the man shook his hand. “I can’t thank you enough,” the dad said.

  “You’re welcome,” Troy said, confused by the dad’s gratitude.

  “She’s been on a little brother kick for the whole year. Every time we ask her what she wants to do on the weekend or who she wants to play with, she only says she wants to play with her baby brother. When we asked her what else she’d like for Christmas, she has replied with the same thing—a baby brother. Thanks to you we have at least one other thing to think about getting her this year.”

  Troy nodded. “I’m glad I could be helpful.”

  “You’re the best Santa I’ve seen in a long time,” the dad said.

  Troy nodded at the compliment and the dad hurried to catch up with his family. He blew out a breath, sitting back in the chair, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. That had been harder than he’d planned. He hoped it would get easier, thinking on his feet about what to say, knowing that in all reality there was no way for him to promise anything that children asked for. It was a very difficult situation.

  “Still, the best Santa he’s seen in a long time is saying something,” he muttered to himself in the quietest, jolliest voice he could manage.

  “I agree,” a familiar female voice said.

  Troy looked up to see Hailey. She seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  He coughed. “I didn’t know I had an audience,” he said a little sheepishly.

  She shrugged. “I’ve been waiting for someone. He should be here any minute, but in the meantime I had to take the moment and watch you with that little girl. She was adorable.”

  Troy nodded. “She really was.”

  “Mind if I have a seat while I wait for my friend?” she asked.

  Troy wanted to laugh. Was she pulling his leg, or did she really not recognize him? He gestured to the seat next to him. “It’s all yours,” he said. “I was saving it for you.”

  She laughed, taking the seat next to him. “How long have you been doing the Santa gig?”

  He coughed. She really didn’t recognize him. Did his voice sound that different muffled under the beard? “It’s a relatively new thing,” he said. Should he tell her it was him? He wondered how long she’d take to figure it out. Likely not long.

  “Well, you’re a natural. I run events for people and trust me, I’ve worked with a lot of Santas and not many of them have been as convincing as you.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “But I think it’s the suit.”

  She scrutinized the fur on his wrists and looked at his boots, and finally his velvet present sack. “It’s definitely a nice suit, but that’s not the reason why you’re so good at it.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say, so he kept quiet.

  “What did she ask you for?” Hailey asked. “The little girl, I mean. What was she hoping for, for Christmas?”

  Troy wondered if there was some sort of code against telling other people’s Christmas wishes. He’d better play it safe. It was one thing for Kenzie’s parents to know, and quite another to tell someone else. Besides, if Hailey had recognized Troy, maybe she was testing him. He’d better err on the cautious side. “Santa can’t tell what other people want.” He winked at her.

  “An excellent answer,” she said. She drummed her fingers on the chair arms and looked at her watch. Now would be a good time to tell her that he was here, and she didn’t have to wait for him anymore. Surely, she recognized him, right?

  “Can I ask you a question, Santa?” she asked.

  “You want to ask for something for Christmas?” he asked, wondering if Hailey would actually tell him something personal, especially if she thought he was a stranger.

  She shook her head. “I’m a little older than your typical demographic to be interviewed on whether I’ve been naughty or nice.”

  “One is never too old to ask for something from Santa,” he said, lifting the fake bushy white and gray eyebrows that were attached to his own.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “I’m curious about your timing. Isn’t November a little early to start dressing up?”

  Troy smiled. “Maybe this was my Halloween costume?”

  She laughed. “That was last month. What brought you here?”

  He scratched the side of his cap. “A car? Reindeer sleighs aren’t the fastest at delivery 364 days of the year. They save their speed for Christmas Eve.”

  She laughed. “Did you come up with that on the spot, or is that from a ‘Santa Joke Book’ or something?”

  His eyes widened. “Is there such a thing as a Santa Joke Book?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. Do you teach lessons on how to be Santa?”

  Was that a thing? As an event planner, maybe she’d know. Santa lessons might come in very handy, though he supposed if she hadn’t figured out who he was yet, maybe he was playing the part convincingly enough. He looked around the room, wondering how many people heard their conversation, but it seemed like no one was paying much attention. He lowered his voice anyway. “I’m making this up as I go along. Are there actual places Santas can go to take lessons?”

  She bit her lip. “I’ve never heard of a place, I was just curious if you teach it. I have a … friend … who’s never done this before. Maybe you could give him some pointers?”

  He tilted his head. “Is this the same ‘friend’ you’re waiting for now?”

  She blushed. “Yes. He should have been here by now.” She looked down at her phone, but made no attempt to text him. Thankfully Troy had put his phone on silent before dressing up in his Santa suit. He didn’t know much, but he felt like it might kill the Santa Claus picture if his phone suddenly rang. “So, you’re dressed up in November just to spread Christmas cheer early?”

  It was time to let her know who he was. “I was actually trying on the new suit. I heard there might be a need for a Santa for a fundraiser around these parts.” He cringed. Did he just say ‘these parts’? It sounded much more Western than Santa.

  Her face actually fell at his reason. That was not the response he’d expected. “You’re an amazing Santa,” she said. “You really are. And what a coincidence that I’m running into you here, of all places. I’m actually the one who’s in charge of the Forest Festival. Well, me and my friend.” She twirled her hair between her fingers, a gesture that he hadn’t seen from her since the first day they met. Was the Santa persona really able to break through people on such a subconscious level?

  “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said.

  Another twirl of her hair. “I don’t usually either.” She glanced around the room, probably looking for himself again.

  “So about the Forest Festival?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. If Santa were an auditioned role, you would have the part, no question. But that position of Santa has already been filled. I can’t go back on my word. I think he … probably needs it more.”

  Troy nodded. An itch from the beard penetrated through his skin on his left cheek. He was in danger of ripping the entire thing off to show Hailey it was him. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the few other guests in the lobby, but he felt instinctively that he couldn’t burst the Santa bubble that he’d created. It was better to leave this moment how it was.

  “Maybe another time,” Troy said.

  “If something comes up, I’d love to use you as a backup, or book you for another Christmas party,” she said, her words came in a rush. “Do you have a Santa card? I suppose it’s too much to hope that you travel for this gig?”

  Troy patted his Santa coat, as if he were feeling around for a card. He would never need to have a Santa card. This wasn’t going to be something he actually did on a regular basis, but he’d play Santa for Hailey if she needed him for a backup at a party. “I don’t have a card … with me.”

  She nodded. “Do you travel?”

  “When the reindeer are free I can make it down from th
e North Pole.”

  “You’re already getting booked up for the holidays, I bet.” It wasn’t a question.

  He nodded. “I have several days already booked.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. The Forest Festival was almost a solid week, plus the deliveries and then his assistant had thankfully already blocked off his calendar for the night of his company Christmas party. He’d originally assumed that everyone would recognize him, but Hailey still seemed to be oblivious. Maybe that’s how he should run his own Christmas party too. Just show up with the Santa persona, and not be the CEO for an evening.

  “Is there a good way to get a hold of you?” She held out her phone.

  He blinked. She really was serious and she had no clue who he was. He turned over his gloved hands. He wouldn’t be able to put in a number on her smart phone. She understood and punched in the numbers as he gave her the digits. He’d send her directly to Cara’s number, on the off chance that she’d call before he told her it was him.

  She looked at the number. “New York?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Santa has to have a home base. Reception in the North Pole is dicey.”

  She laughed. “This is your number?”

  “My elf will answer the phone. Her name is Cara. She’ll get you in touch with me.”

  “And I ask for …?” She held the screen toward him. The name on the contact was currently blank.

  He cleared his throat. Did he sound different? “Ask for Santa.”

  She put in Santa on the name line and saved the contact. Then she stood. “I’d better go see what happened to my friend. He’s never been this late before.”

  “Is he more than just a friend?” Troy couldn’t help but ask the question. The way she used the word throughout their whole conversation. Was she trying to convince Santa or herself?

  She blushed. “Maybe more than just a friend. I don’t know what we are actually. He’s something. We’re … something, maybe—maybe that’s my Christmas wish.”

  Troy wanted to react to her statement by telling her who he was, but he kept himself in character. She’d basically told Santa her feelings for Troy. He touched the side of his nose, hoping it seemed like a “Santa” thing to do. “I thought so.”