“I can’t wear this.”
Lana stepped closer. “Actually, I think you wear it rather well.”
Her compliment was met with an audible curse. The Santa suit wasn’t just snug. It was skintight. This was no round-bellied Santa, no jolly old Saint Nick. This was rippling-muscles-beneath-crushed-red-velvet Santa. Broad shoulders and a flat stomach that would not shake when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
Maybe a bowl full of rocks or a washboard or two.
“Turn around,” she encouraged him. “I want to see what we’re working with.”
Giving her a distrustful look, Rick did as she asked. Not only was the Santa suit snug in the top, it was equally snug in the rear.
“Mrs. Claus is a very lucky woman.”
“I’m changing.” Rick stomped toward the bathroom.
Lana pulled him back. “I’m teasing you, dearest. It’s fine. Despite the sweets provided, I think a fit, healthy Santa is a good example for the town’s youth.”
It took some coaxing to get him down to the party room where the staff milled around. Their entrance pulled more than a few glances.
“Oh my.” Hannah eyed him in appreciation.
“That’s what I said,” Lana told Hannah, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I think I accidentally ordered the stripper Santa.”
Rick groaned. “Please stop saying that. You’re making this worse.”
She turned to him and straightened his beard as if it were a crooked bow tie.
“Trust me, Rick. With you here, this party will be perfect.”
* * *
No one showed up.
Not only did the party flop, there wasn’t even a party to begin with.
Rick hadn’t expected many people, knowing what he knew about the town’s feelings on her construction plans. But even he wouldn’t have expected everyone to boycott the event. For the first time in his life, Rick found himself ashamed of the town he came from and the people in it. People he loved but who he could have throttled with every passing hour.
They passed the time rearranging tables and decorating their own cookies, although with every failure of a body to come through the door, Lana’s disappointment grew harder for her to hide. On one table, a gingerbread recreation of the town stretched out, bowls of candy and little miniaturized marzipan figures waiting for tiny hands to decorate it.
“I bet the staff went cross-eyed trying to make those,” Rick rumbled, watching her straighten a small container of crystalized candy moose.
“Special ordered from Sweden.” Plucking two of the moose out with her festively manicured fingertips, she popped one in her mouth and offered him the second. “In hindsight, I probably could have spared myself the shipping charges.”
“Do you want to open it to the hotel guests?”
“No, this was for the town. It was supposed to be something special just for them.”
Another woman might have been in tears at the obvious slight from so many. Lana kept her head high. The door opened, but instead of the rush of townsfolk that Rick kept hoping would show up, it was only one person—Zoey.
“Lana, I’m so sorry we’re late. Graham and Easton are parking the truck. I kept telling Graham we needed to get a move on, but you know how he gets when he’s carving—”
Zoey dropped off midsentence when she saw Lana sitting there. “No one came.”
“It’s fine.” With a dismissive wave of her fingers, Lana added, “More cookies for us, right?”
Settling in next to her friend, Zoey put her arm around Lana’s waist, leaning her head on Lana’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging Lana tight.
Graham strode into the room, a silent Easton at his heels. “Hey, L, sorry we’re late. I’m sure Zo blamed it on me, but it was totally her fault.” Pausing, he glanced around in confusion, then his eyes softened in sympathy. “Damn.”
“It really is fine,” she said.
Easton’s frown was directed at the room, then to Rick’s surprise, he went to Lana and hugged her. “Sorry, people suck sometimes. Ash is working right now, or she’d be here too.”
“What’s happening?” Lana asked from behind the bulk of Easton’s shoulders, voice muffled.
“You’re getting an Easton hug,” Zoey told her. “It’s kind of like being hugged by Jason Momoa, isn’t it?”
Now, Rick didn’t mind for one second that his friends were giving Lana the support she needed. But the Jason Momoa part was a little rough, especially considering his current attire. Rick tugged at his snowy white beard, wondering if he was at least half-Momoa-esque. Red was his color after all.
When Easton stepped away, Lana had the funniest expression on her face.
“This is where she dumps me, isn’t it?” Rick said to no one in particular, earning a giggle from Lana. Which was worth the smirks aimed his way by the other males in the room.
On the plus side, Easton could eat a lot of cookies. Zoey was a hard second, and Rick had to admit he wasn’t above face planting in some iced deliciousness. In support of Lana, of course. Between the group of them, they made a fair-sized dent in the treats table.
Eventually, Graham and Zoey left to do some last-minute Christmas shopping before tonight’s tournament, while Easton left to do those things that Easton did (like wander in the woods in all his overly masculine glory).
It was possible that Rick was starting to get a complex.
He wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave Lana in peace, staring out the window down the snow-covered mountainside below.
“We’re going to start cleaning up now,” Hannah told Lana quietly.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, that’s fine. Would you be willing to gather up the food we didn’t use and see if any of the staff wants to take it home? If we have extra, please arrange to have it taken to a shelter in Anchorage. There are plenty of children who don’t have enough Christmas joy in their lives and could use a little more right now.”
Rick joined Lana at the window. “I know it’s early, but do you want to get a drink?”
Her glance down the mountain gave her away. “Why not?” Lana steeled her shoulders bravely.
“There’s a perfectly good bar several feet that way.” Rick tilted his head toward the restaurant on the far side of the lobby. “Let’s stay here for now. I don’t want to beat up every single person I meet for bailing on you today.”
He wasn’t lying. Maybe he sounded calm, but he really wasn’t. They found a place at the nearly empty bar. Apparently hiding in bars and drinking away their woes was something they liked to do together.