Page 7 of The Naughty List Agreement

Ana was Nick’s little sister who’d decided to give up her immortality for love almost a century ago. Nick believed that was the reason his parents had decided to retire. They’d visited Ana often during her life, but after she died, his parents had changed and his dad had pushed Nick to become Santa before he was ready. Neither of them would admit it, but Nick had seen their sorrow and grief, however much they tried to hide it from him.

“Yeah. I’m struggling to get her eyes right. The shape is fine but I don’t know how to capture that spark she had.” Ana had loved Christmas and Nick knew she would be disappointed in him if she were here today. He was disappointed in himself. Letting Krampus get so close to taking charge was not something that would have happened in his father’s day. They’d promised each other they would always keep the spirit of the season at the heart of everything they did. Nick felt like he was trying his best, but he wished he could ask her advice. He missed her so much.

He wanted to make sure he had something that would do justice to Ana’s spirit—and blow the marshmallow out of Cora’s mocha. He’d bet his favorite hockey skates she was going to suggest he industrialize his manufacturing process to some sort of assembly line. Joke’s on her, the elves already had that sorted.

Thinking about the dollhouse, he felt inspiration flow through him. Home. Family. Joy. He knew what he had to do. But he’d also need a dedicated staff to get them all completed in time.

“I can see you’ve got an idea. Catch you later,” Jack said as he left. Nick waved in his friend’s direction, his attention focused on his work bench.

Nick directed a beam of magic to the intercom. “Buddy, Gemma, and Wils, please come to my workshop.”

Grabbing his drafting paper, Nick began to sketch his idea. He took his time on the details, knowing that rushing only caused mistakes.

“We’re here boss,” Buddy said. “What’s up?”

“I’ve had an idea for a new version of our most popular toy. I want to get started on it and I need a prototype in a few hours.”

“What are you thinking?” Wils asked.

“Your Town—a build-your-own set that would include a drafting app for kids who like to design. I want it to be adaptable. If kids want it already assembled, they can get that. Include all the bells and whistles. It needs to be something they can enhance and maybe even use their devices to connect to a larger online community where they could showcase their towns. What do you think?” Nick said, the toy already taking shape in his mind. He could envisage the multitude of different variations and schematics. “Can we make one before tonight?”

Wils was the master scheduler who was in charge of making sure all toys were completed by Christmas morning, wrapped and ready for delivery.

“I bet we could make two to three different buildings tonight. A house, and maybe a school and a shop?” he said.

Wils loved the challenge of a tight deadline.

Nick smiled, feeling his magic surge as the elves got excited.

“Let’s do it.”

Driving through Pine Falls was like stepping into a Christmas movie but on steroids. Every shop window was full of twinkling lights and elaborate displays of nutcrackers standing guard over velvet-bow-draped trees with toy trains circling snowy villages. Oversized wreaths with long red satin bows hung from every door, inviting you in to the cozy warmth and smiling faces of bustling proprietors. It was exactly the way it was supposed to be.

Frosty Jack’s was located on the outskirts of town, on the opposite side to Nick Bari Toys. The winding mountain road twisted and turned until Cora was high above the town. Nestled in a clearing of blue spruce and ice-crusted stone stood a half-timber lodge that looked as if it had been there forever. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the windows were fogged with laughter and good cheer. The hand-painted sign read Frosty Jack’s and the letters had somehow caught a glittering frost that glowed faintly blue.

Parking her car, she skimmed her hands down the sides of the smart cigarette pants she’d changed into for this meeting. She wore her favorite pink angora sweater which had a cute reindeer embroidered on the front of it. She’d put her hair up and even added a red lip just because.

Cora was determined to close the deal with Nick tonight. Everything depended on her turning this lie into a truth; she’d gone into a board meeting this afternoon and pretty much promised them the world—plus more money, more visitors, and more publicity than the last five years combined.

Yeah, she might have overdone it, but the panic at potentially losing her job had taken hold. She’d found herself saying whatever she needed to. She wouldn’t leave until she had Nick’s agreement. Whatever it took. She took a deep breath of the crisp air and stepped inside.

She was immediately struck by how alive the place felt. At first the cool air raised goosebumps on her skin but the heat of the fire in the stone hearth warmed her as she moved further into the room. Icicles dangled from wrought-iron chandeliers, seeming to catch every droplet of light and reflect it as a hundred—no, a thousand—colorful prisms. The air was scented by fresh pine boughs mixed with cinnamon and bourbon, and someone had tucked sprigs of holly dotted with red berries into the corners of the mirrors. The whole vibe was like a grown-up version of Christmas.

The bar, she noticed, had been made to look like a slab of ice, carved with curling patterns that shimmered and glistened in the light. Glancing around at the other patrons, Cora could see that the crowd was a mix of both locals and tourists. She spotted Nick, leaning against the bar and still wearing his flannel shirt and those sexy jeans that made her itch to reach inside and⁠—

No! What was she thinking?

She forced herself to tear her eyes away from Nick and focus instead on the man he was talking to behind the bar.

He was tall, thin, and breathtaking in a way that was both beautiful and dangerous. His hair was artfully styled and made him look like he’d just stepped out of a winter storm. When she got closer, she noticed his eyes were the color of a frozen lake. Wow. And yet her eyes slid inexorably back to Nick.

“Hello.”

“You’re early.” The low timbre of his voice brushed over her senses like a warm breeze, which she studiously ignored.

“On time is late, as far as I’m concerned,” she said tartly.

“Couldn’t agree more,” the barman said and smiled at her. “Jack Frost.”