Only 15 Shopping Days Left...

By Elizabeth Bevarly

In this lighthearted holiday novella, Sophie Gift is spending her first Christmas alone after a broken marriage left her with nothing. And working in a department store this time of year, as one of Santa's elves, no less, isn't exactly putting any cheer into the holiday. Mitchell Lauderdale has never been big on Christmas to begin with. He comes from a long line of retailers and doesn't see much to celebrate, other than the piles of cash that find their way into the registers of Lauderdale's Department Store. It's going to take a special kind of spirit to bring together these two souls who have lost (or never known) the meaning of Christmas. But then, everyone in Chicago knows that Lauderdale's is haunted by the ghost of one of its long ago Santas. And that ghost has a thing for matchmaking...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Bevarly
• Release date: Dec 5, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466115071

Elizabeth Bevarly

Elizabeth Bevarly is the award-winning, nationally number one bestselling author of more than seventy novels and novellas. Her books have been translated into two dozen languages and published in three dozen countries. An honors graduate of the University of Louisville, she has called home places as diverse as San Juan, Puerto Rico and Haddonfield, New Jersey, but now resides back in her native Kentucky with her husband, her son, and two neurotic cats (as if there were any other kind).

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Only 15 Shopping Days Left…

Elizabeth Bevarly

Copyright Elizabeth Bevarly

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Prologue

Christmas Eve 1946

Nicholas Frost ran a quick brush through his snowy white beard and perched his reading glasses on his cherry red nose. He bypassed the array of rouge, wigs, fake beads and glue that all the part-time Santas at Lauderdale’s Department Store had to use when they worked and made his way to his locker in the break room. Being overweight might have its health concerns, he thought, recalling his doctor’s most recent warnings about his heart, but it sure did make him a convincing Santa Claus.

He buttoned his massive red coat, popped a peppermint candy into his mouth and cinched his wide, bell-laden belt with a merry jingle. Then he practiced a few perfunctory Ho-ho-hos, an action that was simply habit by now, because Nicholas Frost was the epitome of Christmas spirit. He was by far the best Santa Claus Lauderdale’s had ever employed, and everyone in Chicago knew it.

Not that Nicholas was one to be prideful about such a thing. He was simply pleased to be providing children with a bit of holiday magic, a little something special to believe in at a time when the whole world was rebuilding after a terrible war and a terrible depression. For too long, Christmas had been celebrated in the shadow of violence and poverty. For too long, families had been forced to do without and worry about their loved ones, some not certain whether their sons and brothers and fathers were even alive. For too long, Christmas had meant indigence for too many, and loss for too many more.

But not this year.

This year, the economy was on the upswing, and the people of America were feeling hopeful for the first time in nearly two decades. Chicago was alight with holiday decorations, and snow was falling in a white, crystalline cascade, cleansing the dirt from the streets, and buffing all the rough edges from the city. White Christmas sounded from the store’s radio speakers, and in thirty minutes, Lauderdale’s would open for the last shopping day before Christmas. Once again, Nicholas would experience the delight and satisfaction of hearing the breathless wishes and dreams of scores of children.

But best of all, on Christmas Day, his namesake and favorite granddaughter Nicole would be getting married to a fine young man. Nicholas had been looking forward to the wedding for months. He knew his family considered him to be a sentimental old fool, but the only thing that brought a warmer feeling to his heart than Christmas did was to see two young people fall in love and commit themselves to marriage. Nicole had purposely chosen her grandfather’s favorite holiday—Christmas Day—to exchange vows with her future husband. She’d done that for Nicholas. His heart still swelled with love and joy at the knowledge.

He settled his Santa hat atop his head, the bells adorning the white fur cuff jingling as cheerily as those on his belt. He unwrapped another peppermint candy as he made his way toward the locker room door. Out of nowhere, another one of those annoying little pains pinched his chest, and he pressed his fingers to his breastbone in an effort to rub the sensation away. He’d been suffering such pains too frequently lately. He supposed he should do as his wife insisted and go back to see his doctor. Next week, he promised himself. He’d make an appointment with Dr. Grady the day after Christmas.

The pain in his chest pinched tighter, and Nicholas pressed harder to make it go away. But it didn’t go away. He flattened his palm over his heart and pressed harder still as he pushed open the locker room door. To take his mind off the pain, he thought again about Nicole, about Christmas, about how there was nothing in the world more wonderful than two people falling in love during a holiday meant to celebrate just that. Nothing in the world—especially a little pain in his chest that meant nothing—would make him miss Nicole’s Christmas wedding…

Chapter 1

Christmas 2011

Santa’s workshop was abuzz with activity, even more hectic than the elves had anticipated, with barely a month standing between them and Christmas Eve. Piles of gaily wrapped presents, some of them as large as appliance boxes, were scattered everywhere, behind and around the jolly old elf’s huge, bejeweled throne. Teddy bears, dump trucks, choo-choos and dolls littered the floor, and a rainbow assortment of oversized lollipops and peppermints sticks jutted at odd angles along the gold picket fence enclosing the workshop area. Energetic elves bedecked in red and green hustled hither and yon in an attempt to manage the chaos, some of their efforts successful, others not so much.

Two elves, however, had managed to slip away from the confusion, for a quick breather and an even quicker cup of cocoa, and stood observing the action from the doorway of the break room nearby. The break room was only one of the many concessions the elves were proud to have won this year, after they’d threatened to strike during the holiday season. They’d also been awarded a slight raise in salary and a dental plan, however meager, along with brand-, spanking-new uniforms.

Okay, so the faux-fur-trimmed, skin-tight, miniskirt and top were probably better suited to a Christmas centerfold than they were to Santa’s workshop. The old man was getting on in years, and his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. And hey, if a short skirt would make St. Nick merrier, who were they to argue? With the Christmas holiday fully upon them now, there wasn’t exactly time for more complaining anyway.

Good cocoa, the first of the breaking elves muttered after she inhaled a deep drag from her unfiltered Camel. She expelled the smoke in a slow, steady stream of white and enjoyed another sip.

Mmm, the second elf murmured in agreement.

Only one thing missing from it, the first added.

The second sipped carefully from the sweet concoction. What’s that?

A couple fingers of Bourbon.

The second elf laughed. Now, now. You know Santa would never approve.

Like hell, the first countered. Haven’t you noticed the way the old guy’s left boot bulges? It’s because he has a fifth of rye tucked inside.

The second elf chuckled merrily. Yeah, well, it is his busy time of year. And with Mrs. Claus being menopausal and filing for divorce this year, it’s not quite the holiday he’s used to.

Both elves trained their attention to the plump, silver-haired woman berating the man in red. As she complained loudly of his bad breath and wide girth, she tried to settle a wriggling, crying toddler in his lap. Still bemoaning Santa’s many shortcomings, she moved back to the camera settled on a tripod and snapped a few pictures of the wailing child and disgruntled St. Nick. Then, throwing back her bonneted, bespectacled head, she shouted, Neeeext!

Sophie Gift laughed at the scene as she tugged up the low-cut elf suit that clung to her like a second red-and-green skin. To no avail. Just as it always did, the scooped neck fell right back down to hover just above her breasts. Along with the triangular skirt that barely covered her fanny, the little holly-spattered hat dipping low over her long black bangs, and the curl-toed, bell dangling red ankle boots, her outfit made her feel more ridiculous than she’d ever felt