In my holiday novella, Naughty or Nice, Olivia has just finished work on Christmas Eve at the mall, and with aching feet and no real plans, her holiday could really use some cheer. As always at Christmas, Santa comes through . . .
“Uuuugh…” Olivia said with a groan as they walked through the mall to the main doors. “I can’t wait to get out of these shoes.”
Jill stretched her back. “You sure you’re not coming over?”
Olivia smiled. “I’m sure.”
“Well, if you change your mind, we’re home tonight. Tomorrow we split between his parents and mine, though.”
“Thanks, but really – I’m good.” Olivia yawned, staggering a bit on her stiletto heels.
“Ho Ho Ho, ladies!” Santa’s voice rang out from the tacky foamcore gingerbread house set up in the center of the mall. Jill waved back.
“Hey Santa! Whassup?”
“Still taking requests,” he called out. “What are you wishing for?”
“Alcohol!” Jill called back. “And a foot rub for my friend, here!”
Santa looked over at Olivia. His beard obscured his face, but she could tell he was smiling.
“Is that so?” he said.
“Yeah, but give her the kind of rub that starts at the feet and works its way up!” Jill suggested, waggling her eyebrows. “Somebody needs to unwrap her under a Christmas tree, if you know what I mean.” Continue reading
Britt DeLaney 