Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Mrs. Saint Nick ©2013 by Caroline Mickelson.
Published by Bon Accord Press
ISBN 978-0-9851296-8-2
Formatting by Sweet 'N Spicy Designs
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Mrs. Saint Nick
Caroline Mickelson
www.carolinemickelson.com
Dedicated to
Lisa, Jennifer and Meg ~
Best Sisters Ever!
Chapter One
"I can save Christmas this year, Mr. Claus.” Efficiency expert Holly Jamison pulled a resume from her briefcase and reached across the massive oak desk to place it in front of Santa. She sat back, folded her hands in her lap and tried not to look as anxious as she felt. She wanted this job. Correction. She desperately wanted this job.
“Save may be a bit of an overstatement, Miss Jamison.” Santa smiled genially, kindness evident in his blue eyes. “With my daughter Carol away for the holidays I could really use an efficient, level-headed right hand during this last week before the big day.”
“As you can clearly see, Mr. Claus, I have extensive experience with hectic pre-holiday schedules and-”
Santa raised a white gloved hand. “Yes, Miss Jamison, I can see that you spent close to five years working as Mr. Sand Man’s chief assistant.” He peered over his gold wire rimmed glasses at her. “Although I’m not quite certain that we can compare the frantic energy of the North Pole the week before Christmas to nightly bedtime, can we?”
Holly met his gaze straight on. She couldn’t quite read his expression but she could hear the doubt in his voice. She took a deep breath and launched into her well-rehearsed sales pitch. “Oh, you’d be surprised, Mr. Claus. At Nighty Night Central we deal with the same number of children that you do, actually even more because not every child celebrates Christmas.”
Santa’s eyebrows rose. Holly’s heart sank. Perhaps she could have left that last bit unsaid. “We saw massive spikes in the number of restless children before every holiday, especially Christmas. Also consider the impact of birthdays, which occur every single day of the year. Nothing, short of Christmas of course,” she hastened to add, “keeps a child wide awake like having a birthday the next day.”
Santa nodded thoughtfully. “You have a valid point there.” He glanced over her resume again before tossing it on his desk. He sat back in his chair and eyed her thoughtfully. “Without Carol here I need someone who can jump right into the madness. Your references are impeccable, Miss Jamison, and your prior job performance is impressive. But what I really need to know isn’t about numbers or systems but how do you feel about Christmas?”
There it was, the question Holly had been dreading. “How do I feel about Christmas?” she repeated as if she hadn’t practiced answering the question a dozen times already. “Well, I think Christmas is simply splendid, a lovely time of the year.”Once the words were out of her mouth, Holly resisted the urge to slap herself on the forehead. What a boneheaded answer. Simply Splendid. A lovely time of the year. Ugh.
Judging by his expression, Santa didn’t appear especially enamored of her answer either. He took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Miss Jamison, might I remind you that I have the ability to tell when someone is being nice and when they are being naughty? This also gives me the opportunity to discern the truth from a fib, shall we call it?”
Santa sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his belly. A heavy silence descended. Holly’s mind raced for the right words to string together that might get her off the hook but none came. Fine. The truth it would have to be.
“I feel that Christmas is necessary.”
“Necessary?” Santa echoed.
She nodded. “Yes, necessary. I think the word sums it up perfectly. It’s how my mother felt about the holidays.”
Santa waved a gloved hand, indicating she should continue speaking. “Tell me more.”
“My mother raised me by herself. My father left her when I was two years old, on Christmas Day incidentally.” Holly took a deep breath to steady her nerves. This job interview was rapidly beginning to feel like a visit to a therapist’s office. It wasn’t going at all how she’d rehearsed, but what could she do? Get up and walk out? No. Not without fighting for this job.“More? Okay. Christmas, for my mother, was a way to mark the end of one sad year and the beginning of yet another.”
“Oh, dear,” Santa shook his head. “This isn’t good.”
“Not for me, no,” Holly agreed. “Each year, starting the day after Thanksgiving, Mother would begin a month of frenzied activity and she’d drag me along with her. We would knit sweaters and socks for the troops overseas, help organize the nativity pageant at not one, but two different churches, and Mother would volunteer to help school children write their letters to Santa. I mean to you, that is.”
“All very admirable,” Santa said.
“Yes, of course,” Holly reluctantly agreed. “But it was like a mad blur, Mr. Claus. The shopping, the cookies, volunteering at the soup kitchen, buying and wrapping presents for needy children…it just didn’t stop. It was exhausting. Draining.” She leaned forward and rested her hands on Santa’s desk. “And do you know what the worst part was, Mr. Claus?”
He leaned forward and shook his head. “Tell me.”
“Christmas Eve night,” Holly said. “After serving a mid-day meal to the homeless, we’d go to early church services and then go caroling at a senior citizen center. All very admirable, as you put it.”
“But?” Santa prompted her.
Holly sighed and sat back in her chair. “But we weren’t doing it for the right reasons. My mother was miserable. She’d be on the verge of tears all day. Then once she was in her room at night she’d sob her heart out.”
“You heard her?”
Holly nodded. “Every year. I’d sneak out onto the landing between our rooms and I’d listen outside her door. She’d cry as if her heart were shattering into a million pieces.”<
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“A million pieces? Oh, that’s not good.” Santa dropped his face into his hands for a long moment before he slapped his hands on the desk and stood. “I cannot apologize enough, Miss Jamison, that I didn’t do more to help make Christmas a happier time for you and your mother.” He began to pace his wood paneled office. “Christmas is about joy and happiness, it’s not something to be merely endured.”
Holly stood. This wasn’t going at all the way she wanted it to when she arrived for her interview. She needed to regain control of the situation. “Mr. Claus, what I just shared with you was very beside the point.” She rushed on when she saw him about to interrupt. “When I heard that you were looking for an assistant for the week before Christmas I knew I had to apply. I have no emotional attachment to anything Christmas related. It’s all about running an efficient operation with strict adherence to system compliance. I’d be perfect for the job.”
Santa stopped pacing. He stroked his beard and gazed thoughtfully at her. “Yes, perhaps you might be at that.”
Holly held her breath. She was so close to getting hired she could feel it.
“The job is yours, Miss Jamison, if you’d like it,” Santa said. “However, there is one more thing you should consider before you give me your answer.”
Holly exhaled. She didn’t care what the one last thing was. She was taking the job. But good manners dictated she appear interested in the fine print. “What might that be, Mr. Claus?”
“If you are hired on, you’d be working directly with my son Nicholas.”Santa grinned. “Nick is a wonderful boy and I couldn’t ask for a better son. He carries the true meaning of Christmas in his heart year round. It’s just that…well, he doesn’t quite have the penchant for organizational skills that you appear to have.”
Ah, so the son was a dead beat. Holly wasn’t bothered by this little bomb shell. Nicholas Claus could just sit in a corner with a coloring book for all she cared as long as she was allowed to carry on with her work. “I don’t see that as an issue, Mr. Claus. I’m sure we will be able to work together with no problems.” Holly smiled. She couldn’t help it. She’d done it, she’d gotten the job.
Santa clapped his hands in delight. “Splendid. Welcome to Christmas.” He picked up a clipboard from his desk and opened the door to his outer office. “Follow me, Miss Jamison, and I’ll show you around the busiest place on earth.”
* * *
“She looks like trouble if you ask me.”
Nick Claus tore his gaze away from the flat panel screen and swiveled around in his chair to face his companion, Rapz the elf. “I have to agree with you Rapz, she does.”
“I mean, did you see her?” Rapz demanded, knowing full well that Nick had just watched the same job interview via Santa Cam that he had. “She thinks she’s here to save Christmas. Bah.”
Nick pointed the remote control at the screen and clicked the off button just as Santa ushered Christmas Central’s newest hire out of his office. He settled back into his recliner. “Let her think what she wants. So long as she doesn’t get in the way of my project, I don’t care who she is or what she does.”
Rapz raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right. Sure. Totally believing that one, Saint Nick.”
Nick grinned. “Are you referring to the fact that Miss Holly Jamison is absolutely and utterly lovely?”
Rapz nodded. “She’s gorgeous.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Nick said. He tossed the remote onto a nearby sofa and reached out to take a heavily frosted and sprinkled tree shaped cookie from a platter. He chewed thoughtfully for a long moment. “What I did notice was that our Miss Jamison has a bit of a fixation on efficiency, wouldn’t you say?”
Rapz shrugged. “Some people might think that’s a good thing.” He snuck a sideways glance at Nick. “Your father certainly seems to think it’s important.”
“Dad would. But that’s just because his whole world centers around Christmas.” Nick pointed to the tray of cookies. “Help yourself, buddy.”
Rapz shook his head. “You need them more than I do. When are you going to start gaining some weight?” He cast a doubtful eye at Nick’s athletic form. “One day you’re going to have to fill out that red velvet suit.”
Nick groaned. “I know, don’t remind me.” He heaved himself out of the recliner and stretched. “But until the day comes that I take over as Santa Claus I am perfectly happy to just be known as good ‘ole Saint Nick.”
Rapz coughed. “About that…Nick why don’t you let Miss Jamison know what you’re up to? Why hide your project?” He jumped off his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You should just tell her.”
“Not happening, Rapz.” Nick crossed to his desk and began to make a mess of the files that were neatly stacked. Once they were strewn to his satisfaction he nodded. “I don’t need the pressure of her looking over my shoulder.”
“You’d better get used to it, Nick. Once you’re Santa everyone will look to you for everything.”
Nick frowned at Rapz, but it was a playful scowl. “You’re getting too serious. Now, Dad is going to be around here with his new protégé any moment so help me cover my tracks, would you?”
They worked industriously to make a mess out of Nick’s office, something they both had a great deal of experience doing.
“Hey, I think I hear them,” Nick said. He nodded at a wood paneled pocket door at the back of his office. “Help me cover that up. I don’t want Miss Jamison to know I have a private entrance.”
It took them only a moment to slide an eight foot tall framed portrait of Nick in front of the secret door. Just as they finished doing so there was a knock on the outer office door.
“Go ahead, Rapz, let them in.” Nick ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his collar. “Remember, whenever Holly is around, treat me like the happy go-lucky good for nothing son of Santa that I am.”
Rapz frowned. “That you pretend to be, you mean.” He lifted a warning finger and wagged it at Santa’s only son. “Push me too far and I’m exposing you for the good hearted genius you really are.”
“Don’t you dare ruin my fun,” Nick warned him.
Chapter Two
It took Holly only a split second to decide that Nicholas Claus, despite his good looks, was a self-centered egomaniac. Her first clue? The larger than life portrait of himself that he casually leaned against as if it were a Greek column and he was Zeus. Oh, he was handsome and charming, that much was immediately obvious. But as she and Nick made small talk under his father’s watchful gaze, she decided it would be smart to keep a close eye on him lest he interfere with all the plans racing through her mind.
“Well, then,” Santa said, with a pleased expression, “it appears as if you two young people will be able to work together splendidly. Wonderful, that’s a real load off of my mind.” He clapped a white gloved hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m off then. I promised Mrs. Claus a ride in the new sleigh and we all know there won’t be time in the days ahead.”
“Have fun,” Nick said. “Perhaps I’ll give Miss Jamison a spin later.”
His smile was so bright, and so flat out charming, that Holly forced herself to look away. “I’m sure we have far more important things to do, Mr.-” she broke off and looked from father to son. “How do people here differentiate between you both?”
Santa laughed. “I’m just plain old Santa, no one here calls me Mr. Claus.” He smiled fondly at his son. “Our Nicholas goes by Saint Nick.”
Saint Nick? Seriously? Holly glanced between the two men to see if they were serious. Santa she could manage but getting ‘Saint Nick’ to trip off her tongue was going to be a bit of a stretch. “Why don’t you just call me Holly and I’ll call you Nick,” she suggested.
“Well, Holly,” Nick said, drawing out her name a little longer than she thought strictly necessary, “There are more elves than you might imagine that answer to Nick, Nicky, Nicholas, Nico, Nicole, Nicolette…you get the picture. So anyone who wants my undivided
and immediate attention calls me Saint Nick.” He winked at her. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”
Holly stared at him. Was he for real? She wasn’t sure but like it or not he was the boss’s son, a part and parcel of her new job. She forced herself to smile at him. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” She turned to his father. “Now, Santa, I have a million questions. If you could just spare me a few moments before your sleigh ride I would greatly appreciate it.”
Santa shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t, Holly. Between now and the twenty-sixth every moment is at a premium. I’m going to turn you over to Nicholas here. He’ll be your primary contact for, well, absolutely everything.”
Oh, no. Holly’s heart sank but before she could protest, Santa was already speaking to his son.
“We came straight here from my office so I’ll trust that you’ll give Holly a comprehensive, top to bottom tour first thing. I want you to do everything in your power to make her feel as if the North Pole is her new home.”
Nick nodded. “Not to worry, Dad. I’ll take it from here.” He flashed a quick smile in her direction. “Miss Jamison is in very good hands.”
Holly couldn’t think of a single thing to say but she knew one thing for certain. Nicholas Claus was far too full of himself for his own good. She added taking him down a peg or two to her mental to-do list.
“Wonderful, wonderful,” Santa boomed. “I’ll see you both at dinner at seven sharp. You can give me a report on your plans then.”
Holly’s heart began to race. “Plans?” If she was to make a presentation in less than ten hours she needed details. “What precisely did you want to see, Santa?” She reached into her briefcase for her tablet, ready to take notes. Did her new boss prefer Power Point presentations or old fashioned paper reports? Darn, she should have asked earlier. Perhaps preparing both was her best bet. His reaction would tell her which method he preferred.
“Dad just wants a quick rundown on what we’ll be doing between now and Christmas,” Nick said. “No big deal.”
Mrs. Saint Nick : A Christmas Central Romantic Comedy Novella Page 1
