“You know I’m not a fan of interviews, Maggie.”
“I know you want to keep your personal life private. I get that. But the thing is, if this plays out the way we think it will, you could literally become a real-life Carrie Bradshaw. A successful young woman in New York City navigates the dating scene kind of thing. I’ve never seen the marketing department so excited.”
My heart practically stops. I could be a real-life Carrie Bradshaw?
“Of course, confidentiality as to who you’ve dated would be a priority,” she adds. “And because I know you don’t like the idea of going on television, we thought we’d start with influencer interviews, phone calls with journalists, that sort of thing, who will write articles about you. What we should have done was have you blog about this from the beginning, but whatever. What you should care about is the publicity you will get. Your books will sell like hotcakes. You’ll reach a whole new market.”
And I realize this is my chance to get what I want. I look down at number two on my list. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Oh, Kitty. Thank you. I know you will not regret—”
“On one condition,” I add.
“What’s that?”
“I write one more trope book. I do the publicity tour. And then I go back to writing whatever my heart desires.”
“I’m not sure I can agree to that. It just wouldn’t make sense. To build you up and then have you stop writing the tropes.”
“Sorry. But that’s my offer. Take it or leave it. And I want it in writing.”
“Kitty, I’m afraid I can’t do that. But you have my word. Now, onto the fun stuff. Who will you be dating this time?”
“I spun the wheel at brunch yesterday and got Santa. Hayley’s been wanting me to date Santa ever since we started doing this. And it’s the right time of year to write about something like that.”
“Oh, a holiday novel. Hmm. I’m not sure that will work though. We usually release holiday novels in the early fall.”
“Save it for next year then,” I say, really not caring anymore.
She agreed. I actually got her to agree.
“I’ll tell you what. If you write fast and send me a few chapters at a time, maybe we could do a surprise digital release. That might be fun. We’ve never done that before.”
“Sure. No problem,” I say, knowing I’m going to need to start binge-watching Santa movies.
“Well then,” Maggie says, “it was lovely speaking with you today, Kitty. This is going to be bigger and better than anything you’ve ever imagined. I can just see the ads now. A very Kitty Christmas. All right, I’m off. Got to get marketing going on this, stat.”
And then she hangs up.
It sounds silly, but because I was so nervous about my call with Maggie, I did my makeup, fixed my hair, and put on a cute sweater dress. I consider going across the hall to see what Matt’s up to and to tell him the good news—and possibly attack that fine body of his—but I know he’s busy working, and I need to respect that.
So, holiday movies, here I come.
Six hours and a bowl full of popcorn and a bag of licorice later, I’ve got a notepad filled with plot ideas, and I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself. I’ll never forget when this all started and Hayley first showed me the spinning wheel.
Another option caught my eye. “Hot Santa?”
She waved a hand at me. “I added that. I thought it would make a fun holiday edition. Plus, you’ll get to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what a naughty girl you’ve been.”
“Do you have any idea what the chances are of actually finding a hot Santa?” I asked with a giggle. “Maybe a dancer in a Santa costume but the type you see at the mall? Normally not that hot.”
“You’re the writer.” She shrugged as our burgers arrived. “You’ll figure it out.”
And I think I actually have.
I was sort of stuck on the idea of dating, like, the real Santa Claus. Going to the North Pole with the elves and the reindeer, but making that sexy just didn’t really fit. I’m pretty sure Mr. and Mrs. Claus don’t have sex because, otherwise, they would have children, and he wouldn’t have to live forever.
And then I remember when Bryce dressed up as Santa at the firehouse last year to hand out presents. And I think that will be my angle. Hero of the book is dressed as Santa for a charity event. He meets the heroine in a cute way—maybe she spills a drink on him like that girl did to Paxton. She later ends up sitting on his lap and telling him a secret wish. Something she needs for her sick mother perhaps. Whatever—something heartwarming. And on Christmas Eve, he will fulfill her wish, dressed as Santa. And they will kiss. And now, you know they will be together forever. Which is really a good jumping-off point. Because it will take my readers back to the sweeter version of me before I actually go back to writing it. This book will definitely be the sweetest of all the trope books. I think it has to be. Because even though Bryce was sexy under the suit, I just—
Cannot.
Picture.
Doing it with Santa.
And I hope Maggie can understand that.
I’m getting up to grab my laptop when there’s a knock at the door.
“Ho, ho, ho,” I hear along with the sound of jingling bells.
I swivel my head from the door toward the television, wondering if I hit the wrong button and didn’t shut it off. But the screen is blank.
“Weird,” I say to myself. But then I hear it again.
A knock.
And more ho, hos.
I fling open the door to find Matt and Phoebe. Phoebe looks adorable in a red Santa hat with white fur trim and a jingle-bell collar around her neck. She’s wagging her tail, and she wants me to pet her, but I can scarcely move.
Because Matt is dressed up too. His hat matches Phoebe’s. There’s a fake mustache and beard combination carelessly hanging around his neck. My eyes trail down to his naked chest, washboard stomach, and deep V line. The only thing covering his upper half is a pair of red suspenders decorated with little red-and-white Christmas trees. Further down are red velvet pants with white fur cuffs and shiny black shoes.
I’m pretty sure drool is coming out of my mouth. It’s definitely hanging wide open at the sight of him.
“What are you doing?” is all I can think to say because scratch my earlier plot.
I want to do sexy things to this Santa. I want to jingle his bells, sit on his lap, and tell him just how naughty I want to be. I want to talk about big packages, unwrapping his gifts, and going down the chimney. I want to lick his candy cane, make him come to town, and be his Vixen.
Matt gives me a wide grin and then says, “A little birdie told me you needed some inspiration. Figured this might be better than you trolling the malls.”
“Oh, Santa baby,” I say, pulling him inside before pushing him onto the couch and taking a seat on his lap.
Kris showed up at her door, wearing only part of a Santa suit. His naked chest glistened with new-fallen snow, indicating that he had driven all the way over there in his red Ford sleigh like this to see her. When they had talked about having a cozy night of drinking hot chocolate by the fire, this was not what she’d had in mind.