“Best place to hide something is in plain sight, right?”
“Depends on who’s around. I come from a nosy family. They pick up and shake every present.”
She has a point. My blue Santa doesn’t miss details. Which is why suddenly moving them might make him suspicious. “My brother Chris was like that. Had his nose in everything. Still, I miss him. I wish he was still around.”
“Where’d he move to?”
“He’s gone.”
“West coast?” Her smile fades. “Oh, you mean gone, gone.”
I nod. “He got mixed up with a gang when he was a teen. Everything changed after that. My parents were never quite the same and when they got sick…” I shrug. “I guess they kind of gave up.”
“That’s how you got into this line of work?”
“It gave me something to focus on, a purpose, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. My parents are back in Jersey. I had to get away from them and all their anti-alien, pro-Brotherhood garbage. I have a few close friends I call family. It feels less lonely that way, if you know what I mean.”
“You have Max.”
“I didn’t want to rub that in. Besides, he’s in the doghouse right now. He’s been on my case about working so many hours. Why do men always think their jobs are more important?”
“Good question. I’m sure you two will figure it out before Christmas.”
“If not, I have a backup plan. Treating myself to a cup of hot cocoa, if I can find any on the black market, and snuggling with a good book under three heavy blankets.”
“The heat’s out again?”
“For a change. Landlord says he can’t pay his bills until we pay the rent. I’m not paying rent on a place that’s falling apart.”
“He’s full of shit. That guy owns four properties, one of which is for people with plenty of money.” Note to self, have a talk with her landlord. One he won’t forget.
“Joe’s here with the truck. Do you want me to ride shotgun so you can stay here with your blue candy-cane?”
I lean against the doorframe. “He does look quite lickable.”
Donna reaches for the list of addresses we’re delivering to and lifts the clipboard from a nail in the wall. “Let me know the answer when I get back.”
Before I lose myself in Nikkov, I ease the clipboard from her and scoop up one of the smaller candy-cane wrapped presents. “I have to take this run.”
“I’ll have Santa come in here to wrap when he’s finished fixing those toys.”
That makes me cringe. He’ll see my pile of wrapped gifts, the only ones still in here. “Sorry, Santa’s coming with me.”
“Care to rephrase that?” she says with a smirk that almost makes me regret my word choice.
“I need to see how he is with kids.”
“Talking to them or creating them?”
“You’re so bad. Better not let Santa hear those dirty thoughts.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Those silver eyes haven’t moved from you since you opened that door.”
She’s right but I tear my attention from Nikkov, grab my winter coat, shove the present in a pocket, and walk right past him as if he’s the enemy.
In some ways, he is. Fuck. Life isn’t fair sometimes.
