Twelve Secrets of Christmas: A Secret Santa story

By Amelia Foster

FROM EXCITING ROMANCE AUTHOR AMELIA FOSTER

A Secret Santa story

A workplace connection gets murky when the heir to the company is involved.

Leah Carson' s four-year relationship exploded on New Year' s Day and soured her toward all holiday-related activities. She no longer excessively decorated her home and office for Christmas, choosing the grinchy path instead. Working for a media outlet forces her into some semblance of holiday cheer, especially when the up-and-coming channel sets its sights on making a mark with a New Year' s Eve special to rival all the standard offerings— something thrown into question when the host of the broadcast is put in jail, and Leah and her team are scrambling to fill the slot.

Brendan Lanza is heir to the throne of Lanza Broadcasting, but he has to earn his seat by learning every department within the company at his father' s orders. His term with the marketing team offers the unexpected bonus of getting to know Leah better. The respect his father holds for the woman becomes an understatement once Brendan sees how her clever brain easily handles issues, something only rivaled by the temptations her body creates in him.

But her less-than-festive spirit and the threat of losing their highly anticipated special lead Brendan to appoint himself as her Secret Santa, sending twelve anonymous gifts to Leah. Their office flirtation ramps up as Leah begins to receive presents from a secret admirer, creating a bit of conflict as she believes that she is torn between two men, and Brendan is left to decide if he' s betraying their blossoming bond by withholding the truth behind the packages she finds on her doorstep each night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Dec 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781839436642

Amelia Foster

Books, coffee, and chocolate make up both the heart and body mass that is better known as Amelia Foster. She has been a lifelong lover of the written word, both as a reader and an author, and completed her first manuscript at the ripe old age of five, complete with illustrations. Sadly, her art was a medium that never improved over time, although thankfully her writing has. From sweet to salacious, the only requirement Amelia has in books she reads – and definitely in the ones she crafts – is an excessively satisfying happily ever after… and then a little bit more.

Book preview

Totally Bound Publishing books by Amelia Foster and Deana Birch

Single Books

Luca’s Lessons

Secret Santa

TWELVE SECRETS OF CHRISTMAS

AMELIA FOSTER

Twelve Secrets of Christmas

ISBN # 978-1-83943-664-2

©Copyright Amelia Foster 2022

Cover Art by Kelly Martin ©Copyright December 2022

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2022 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.

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A Secret Santa story

A workplace connection gets murky when the heir to the company is involved.

Leah Carson’s four-year relationship exploded on New Year’s Day and soured her toward all holiday-related activities. She no longer excessively decorated her home and office for Christmas, choosing the grinchy path instead. Working for a media outlet forces her into some semblance of holiday cheer, especially when the up-and-coming channel sets its sights on making a mark with a New Year’s Eve special to rival all the standard offerings—something thrown into question when the host of the broadcast is put in jail, and Leah and her team are scrambling to fill the slot.

Brendan Lanza is heir to the throne of Lanza Broadcasting, but he has to earn his seat by learning every department within the company at his father’s orders. His term with the marketing team offers the unexpected bonus of getting to know Leah better. The respect his father holds for the woman becomes an understatement once Brendan sees how her clever brain easily handles issues, something only rivaled by the temptations her body creates in him.

But her less-than-festive spirit and the threat of losing their highly anticipated special lead Brendan to appoint himself as her Secret Santa, sending twelve anonymous gifts to Leah. Their office flirtation ramps up as Leah begins to receive presents from a secret admirer, creating a bit of conflict as she believes that she is torn between two men, and Brendan is left to decide if he’s betraying their blossoming bond by withholding the truth behind the packages she finds on her doorstep each night.

Trademark Acknowledgements

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

The Grinch: Dr. Theodor Seuss Geisel

GQ: Condé Nast

Business Insider: Insider Inc.

Crock-Pot: Sunbeam Products

American Express: American Express Company Corporation

NFL: National Football League

Super Bowl: National Football League

Boy Scout: The Boy Scouts of America

Macy’s: Macy’s Inc.

Chapter One

Leah

Bryce Ramone, arguably the most sought-after film star of the past five years, was arrested for tax evasion and fraud in an early morning raid led by the FBI. Mr. Ramone is currently being held in federal custody awaiting a bail hearing.

"You have got to be kidding me." I shot out of my seat, gripping my phone tightly in my hand as I read the news report that had popped up as an alert on the device. The wheeled office chair rolled a couple of feet behind me until it collided with the wall in the shared space.

Brendan lifted one eyebrow that was far more perfectly shaped than my own neglected ones. Hot sale on those overpriced shoes you love so much? His rich, teasing baritone seeped through my skin more than I was willing to admit.

When my boss Emilio, founder and CEO of Lanza Broadcasting, had first announced that his son would be working with me, I had been irritated at the prospect. However, the younger Lanza—who had graced the covers of both GQ and Business Insider as the next ruler of the communications world with stunning good looks to complete the package—was actually less of an asshole than I’d expected. We’d even managed to form a fairly congenial working relationship. I’d almost call him a friend. Almost.

The churning of my stomach as I read and reread the paragraph, hoping against hope that it would somehow change, kept me from offering a pithy response or a cutting glare, either of which would be standard for me. I swallowed back the acidic bile threatening to rise up the back of my throat and shook my head. Words refused to form in either my brain or my mouth, so I simply turned my phone toward Brendan and waited as he absorbed the same information that had thrown me into a mental freefall.

His gaze narrowed in on the article and his eyes widened as he scanned back and forth across the screen. The speech that had failed me seemed to have no problem forming for Brendan as a long string of epithets burst from him. He stood and walked laps in the minimal open space, running his fingers through his just-a-little-too-long golden-brown locks. "We’ve already released a shit ton of announcements that he was supposed to be hosting the first New Year’s Eve special Lanza Broadcasting has ever produced. Half of our sponsors only signed on because he was the main event."

Every cell in my body tingled, and I wondered absently what a stroke felt like. Brendan stopped his pacing right next to me, and I blinked up at him. Is it too early to start drinking?

After this? I feel like it isn’t early enough. He curled his lips into a small smile, but the concerned creases in his forehead didn’t fade.

I bit back the question burning on my tongue as to whether he was serious or not, because nothing sounded better at that exact moment in time than a skinny margarita, heavy on the salt, but there were still a couple of hours left in the workday, not to mention the added load of this mini crisis. New Year’s Eve is such a cursed holiday anyway. It comes on the heels of Christmas and doesn’t actually have any meaning other than you need to change your calendar.

At my assertion, Brendan’s smile grew into a broad grin, and a fraction of the tension melted from his face. Sounds like someone is a little jaded. I feel like you’re just a little too young to be that way.

I sighed and sat back in the chair at my desk which, for the past three months, had been arranged to be right across from his so that when I looked up I was faced with warm eyes that seemed to change color nearly every time I tried to pin down their exact shade. Normally they ranged from green to a hazel tone nearly dark enough to be called brown, but always with glittering specks of amber that glowed with mischief—not at all what I’d expected from the next communications overlord.

Tipping my ‘Let me drop everything and work on your problem’ mug toward me, I sighed at the solitary drop remaining at the bottom. I definitely do not have enough tea to deal with this. This calls for a fresh cup.

I’d barely reached the door of our joint office when Brendan fell into step behind me and let out a low, moderated whistle. Isn’t that your fourth or fifth cup today? Better slow down there, Chief.

I snorted and flicked on the tab for the electric kettle as I set my mug down on the counter and began rummaging through the overhead cabinet in the break room for my Assam black tea. Without a doubt, I needed the bold, strong flavor to perk me up and get my brain firing on all cylinders to attack the issue at hand. Sorry… Did I miss the memo handing over the reins of this operation to me instead of you? I added a wink to my semi-snarky rhetorical question to make it clear I was teasing. Pretty sure you’re the chief-to-be here, Golden Boy.

He bumped his hip into mine as he poured coffee into his own cup. Over the past several weeks, something had changed. I’d begun to notice warmth blossoming within me when he was just a little closer than normal or when his hand would graze over mine. And that same heat didn’t fail to wash over me again, no matter how unwelcome and unwanted it might be.

Brendan leaned down until his mouth was close enough that his breath tickled my cheek when he spoke. You and I both know that you’re one hundred percent in charge. But I sure do like that nickname. He took a long draw of the black liquid, and my tastebuds recoiled just watching him. I had no idea how anyone drank that stuff.

The bubbling kettle clicked off, and I reminded myself of the thousands of reasons that nothing—absolutely nothing—would ever happen between us, not the least of which was that he was the owner’s son. And I was still nursing a broken heart…even if it had been nearly twenty-four months since the rat bastard that I’d thought I loved had decided our four-year-long relationship was disposable as soon