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“Wait a HO-HO-HO second!” Joy exclaimed, spinning carefully so she wouldn’t tip over. “You can’t be Santa.”

“Why not?” he asked, eyeing her with determination. A determination she knew well and didn’t like. It was Van Adler’s determination, and it said arguing was futile, but she would still try.

“Because…” Joy motioned wildly at him, her crutches swinging in the air. “You’re you! You’re fifty years too young and one hundred pounds too light to pull off Santa Claus.”

“We don’t have time to cancel, Joy. People are already arriving,” he replied.

“There has to be someone else who can do this,” Joy said. “Maybe one of our shop owners can do it!”

“If I’m here and willing, what’s the problem?” Kian asked, resting a hand on his hip. “This is my mall. Let me help with it.”

“He’s right. We have people lining up to see Santa, yet we don’t have a Santa or even a Mrs. Claus,” Marci said, her words gentle even if they cut into Joy like knives.

Groaning, Joy tossed her head back to stare at the ceiling. What was her hang-up with letting Kian be Santa? She was in a jam, and he could get her out of it, so what was the big deal?

“It’s just too different,” Joy whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

When she lowered her head, Kian stood before her, tears in his eyes, too. “No one knows that better than me,” he promised, rubbing her shoulders. Joy tried to focus on anything but his warm hands comforting her, but it was futile. He was strong and steady, and as much as she hated to admit it, kind and understanding, nothing like the man she’d pictured him to be. In her mind, he’d always been a grown-up version of the boy he'd been. Suddenly, with his warm hands grounding her and his brown eyes brimming with tears, she didn’t see the boy anymore. She saw a man who was grieving but still stepping up to do the job. She wasn’t sure if her constitution was as strong as his, but she had to try.

“For Lorelei,” Joy whispered.

“Because the show must go on. We fumble this, and we lose the holiday season,” Kian said, his chin trembling.

Laughter escaped despite the pain in Joy’s chest. “She always said that like it was going to be anything but perfect. It didn’t matter what event was about to happen or what calamity occurred; the show must go on. We can’t fumble it this year, Kian. God, I loved her so much,” she said, a half-sob, half-laugh escaping her lips.

Suddenly, she found herself in Kian’s arms as he hugged her tightly. Half of her was sure he was trying to comfort her, but the other half wondered whether he needed the hug as much as she did. Kian didn’t linger. He stepped back and pulled off his glasses. Before he could wipe his face, Joy did it for him. She ran her palm down his cheek, the warmth of his tears soaking into her soul as a shared experience of grief.

Kian took a deep breath. “Should we do this?”

“I don’t see any other choice,” Joy said, not in the mean way she intended. More resigned, as if she was okay with it. “We fumble this, and we lose the holiday season. Marci, where’s the suit?”

“Break room,” Marci answered, standing and joining them. “The sleigh is parked by the back door.”

“Oh, crap,” Kian said, grabbing Joy’s shoulders. “I don’t know how to drive the sleigh!”

Joy couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing, and Marci quickly joined in. Soon, they were all giggling, with Kian trying to keep a straight face but losing the battle.

“What’s so funny?” he finally asked, still giggling.

Waving her hand, Joy took a deep breath to calm herself. “The sleigh sits on a golf cart. It’s battery-powered, so one pedal accelerates and the other is the brake. To turn right, tug the right rein; to turn left, tug the left rein. Just like driving a car.”

“Got it. Why not just use a steering wheel?”

“Duh,” Joy said, leading them toward the break room. They didn’t have much time for him to get ready. “The kids would see it when they climbed onto the sleigh. With Lorelei, it was authentic or nothing,” she said with a wink. “Which is going to be a problem since you don’t have a beard like Mr. Carrington. She always said the beard was the most authentic part of the experience for the kids.”

“You mean there’s no beard with the suit?” he asked as they walked into the break room. “Maybe The Cozy Claus Emporium has one.”

Marci snapped her fingers. “Yes! He has beards. I’ll run down and get one. Joy, run upstairs and get the Mrs. Claus coat.”

“Wait a HO-HO-HO second!” Joy exclaimed again. “We have a Santa. We don’t need a Mrs. Claus.”

Marci shot Kian an insufferable look, then darted out the side door and let it slam shut behind her.

“Put this on first,” Joy said, handing him the specially padded belly piece that went on like a shirt. “Your pants will go over it.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. “I’m not wearing the coat.”

Stripping off his sweater, Joy was relieved to see he wore a T-shirt underneath, because for three seconds she had worried she was about to see more of Kian Van Adler than she wanted.

Girl, you know you want to see more of him. What are you even saying?