Chapter 1

Jackson McCullough was hot in his blue Santa suit, and his beard was scratchy. It was his duty, however, to play Santa at the company's annual Christmas party. He would have liked to skip the whole thing this year, but it was his company after all.

So Jack sat with a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face and six-year-old Nicholas Kazinski in his lap. Nicholas squinted at Jack's fake beard, trying to see where it was attached.

"You been a good boy this year, Nicky?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. Your voice sounds familiar," said Nicholas, his eyebrows knitting as he continued to stare at the beard.

Precocious child, Jack thought. Instead of answering, he decided to evade.

"Do you think I've got something in my sack for you, buddy?"

It worked. Nicholas's eyes were diverted to the large, blue velvet sack that Jack's wife, Margaret, had sewn years ago. Jack shuffled through the contents of the bag, and after some speculative looks at Nicholas, pulled out a square package wrapped in candy-striped paper and sporting a big green bow.

"What does this one say?" he asked.

Nicholas grabbed the package and studied the tag.

"To Nicholas, from Santa," he said, grinning.

Jack grinned too. "Merry Christmas, bud."

Nicholas slid off his lap and shouted, "Thanks, Uncle Jack," as he shot off across the room to open his gift with the other children.

Jack sighed. He was wondering how much longer he would have to stick around, when Kaylee Kazinski, Nicky's older sister, sidled up to him.

"I'm not sitting on your lap, Uncle Jack," she said. "I'm too old."

"Uncle Jack?" Jack feigned surprise.

"Yeah, I know it's you." Kaylee said, leaning against his knee.

"I see," said Jack. "But you want a present anyway?"

Kaylee giggled. "Yep."

"Well, I'm sorry, young lady. If you want your present, you gotta sit on Santa's lap."

"No, I don't." Kaylee countered.

"Oh, yes you do, Miss Kaylee," Jack said. "Furthermore, now you have to give me a hug too."

Kaylee made a grab for the sack, catching the drawstring in her hands.

"Come on. Gimme my present!"

She pulled hard on the gold draw cord, as Jack held onto the bag. The cord gave way with a sudden snap, causing Kaylee to stumble backward and nearly fall on her behind. She held the broken end in her hand with a stunned look on her face.

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Jack. I didn't mean to break it."

"Oh, Kaylee!"

Suzanne, Kaylee and Nicky's mother and Jack's office manager, had approached just as the cord broke.

Kaylee's eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face against her mother.

"It's okay, honey," Jack said in a soothing voice.

It wasn't, of course. This was Maggie's bag, and the cord had snapped, just as the cord connecting her to Jack had snapped two years ago when she had died unexpectedly. The loss had created a huge hole in Jack's life that he had been unable to fill. For the first time, he was glad for his fake beard because he thought perhaps it hid his despair.

Jack reached out to pat the little girl's back and smooth her fair hair.

"Kay, it's a very old bag. It wasn't your fault," he murmured. "But now you really have to give me a hug."

Kaylee lifted her head and peeked sideways at Jack.

"And give me a kiss."

Kaylee giggled as Jack grabbed her in a bear hug. Then, reaching inside his sack once more, he extracted a box similar to the one he had given Nicholas and presented it to her. However, before she could reach for it, he snatched it away.

"Kiss," he demanded, leaning his cheek toward the girl.

Kaylee wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and gave him a long, loud, exaggerated kiss, and Jack handed her the gift.

"Thanks, Uncle Jack," she said and ran off to join her brother.

Memories rushed back as Jack examined the broken cord on his bag. He remembered how he had balked at the blue bag and matching Santa suit.

"What kind of Santa wears a blue suit?" he had asked.

"It's the perfect color for you, honey. You know I love you in blue," young Maggie had said all those years ago. "It matches those sexy eyes of yours."

It was her favorite color and, coincidentally, the same shade as Jackson Staffing's logo, so he had relented. Margaret had loved the holidays, and she loved these parties. She had always ensured that everyone in attendance received a gift from that sack.

"Do big girls get to sit on your lap too, Santa, or just the little ones?" Suzanne asked.

Jack had almost forgotten she was standing there. He held his arms open, and Suzanne settled herself on his lap and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"I'm sorry about your sack," she said.

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'm sure it can be fixed." But Maggie wasn't there to fix it, he thought. She wasn't there to fix anything. "So, what do you want for Christmas this year, Suzy Q?"

Suzanne looked good, Jack thought. Her red dress hugged her curves, and the V-neckline showed a bit of cleavage. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes twinkled.

"Well, Santa," Suzanne said sighing, "I don't know if I'm ready to tell you what I want."

Jack laughed. "Why not?"

"Oh, maybe a little later." She regarded him seriously. "Thanks for Nicky and Kaylee's gifts, though."

"Sure. You look great, honey. Got a hot date later?"

"Maybe," she said with a wicked grin.

"Oh, really? Well, good for you."

Suzanne showed no sign of rousing herself from his lap, so Jack reached for his sack and extracted an envelope with her name on the front and handed it to her.

"Merry Christmas, sugar," he said.

Suzanne tore the envelope open and peeked inside.

"Oh, damn, Jack. You're always doing stuff like this." She hugged him tight and whispered into his ear. "It's too much."

He wrapped both arms around her holding her just as tight, and said, "You deserve it, Suzanne. I don't know what I'd have done without you since Maggie..."

"Jack." She kissed his cheek again. "Thank you so much."

She leaned back, and Jack saw tears in her eyes. She kissed his cheek once more, and then stood and walked away. Jack watched her walk, admiring her plump ass and shapely calves in the high-heeled black pumps. Yep, she looked good. Whoever she was going out with later was a lucky guy, indeed.

For the next hour Jack concentrated on passing out the rest of his gifts. When he was finished, he stood by the bar and had a drink with his good friend and accountant, Bill Ritter. Bill and his wife, Patty, had been trying unsuccessfully to fix Jack up with single ladies of their acquaintance lately. They'd been campaigning to get him to attend their annual Christmas Eve open house for weeks. No doubt they had some buxom widow or divorcee from their church or Patty's card club to parade for Jack's approval.

"So, are you stopping by the house tomorrow night?" Bill asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Well," Bill said, "I wish you would. I don't like the idea of you being alone on Christmas Eve."

"The kids will probably stop by or something," said Jack.

It was a lie. Both of his children were out of town for the holidays. It was just as well, Jack thought. Last Christmas had been morose without Maggie. This year, Jack, Jr. and his young wife were spending the holidays with the in-laws in Vermont. Becky, a senior in college, had stayed on campus and would be spending Christmas with a friend.

Bill Ritter's long face with the drooping jowls looked even more mournful than usual. "Well, alright, but if you change..."

He never got to finish because just then loud music blasted from the karaoke machine in the corner, and a couple of the office girls began to sing "Blue Christmas." Jack looked at Bill and rolled his eyes and moved on to another group of people. He was tired of making excuses and glad to be spared the necessity of making more.

The singing went on for quite a while. The booze was flowing freely, and everyone was feeling particularly courageous and festive. It seemed very loud to Jack, and he helped himself to another scotch on the rocks. He told himself it was for medicinal purposes, as his head had begun to pound, when his secretary, Marla Doogan, took to the stage with her rendition of the Carpenters' "Merry Christmas, Darling."

"Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you a-a-and to say that I wish you Me-er-ry Christmas. Happy New Year too," Marla sang in her high, reedy voice.

Karen Carpenter must be rolling in her grave, thought Jack. It really was awful. Marla finished with a flourish and bowed, her too-tight skirt scooting up her chubby, pantyhose-clad legs. Jack was embarrassed for her. She was a nice lady.

Then, to his horror, Jack saw Suzanne taking the mic from Marla.

"Hey, everybody." Suzanne's voice echoed through the room. "This next one I'd like to dedicate to our very own Santa, Mr. Jack McCullough."

Suzanne pointed to Jack, and everyone cheered. Jack's face flamed as the music started, and he was again grateful for the fake beard. He felt rooted to the floor as Suzanne began to sing.

Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for me
Been an awful good girl, Santa baby
So hurry down the chimney tonight.

She was actually quite good. Jack was pleasantly surprised, if still slightly embarrassed. As Suzanne warmed to the crowd, she began to move with the music, emphasizing certain words by swiveling her hips and shimmying her shoulders. She peered at Jack through half-closed eyes at times and pursed her lips à la Marilyn Monroe. Hell, those blonde curls kind of made her look like Marilyn Monroe, Jack thought.

Think of all the fun I've missed
Think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you check off my Christmas list

Jack was breathless watching her. He had always known she was a pretty woman, but damn! When had she become so utterly sexy? He had not known she could sing either. She had worked for him for years, but he felt as if he were seeing her for the first time tonight. He glanced around the room. All the men were mesmerized, but she was singing to him. Those beautiful green eyes were looking into his, and she was singing to him. Jack was feeling aroused for the first time in a good long while, and it felt good. He folded his arms across his padded belly and smiled.