Santa's Secret

She thanks me, and I swallow hard at the way my name falls from her lips. My memory bank fails me. I can’t recall a time when she’s ever said “Aiden”, always choosing to use the nickname she gave me so many years ago. Laney’s hand brushes along my cheek. Her touch is soft against my rough stubble. I’m tempted to grasp her wrist so I can hold her hand there, but I don’t want to scare her. I haven’t been touched like this in years, not since Heather, and I’m not sure how I should feel or if I’m thinking too much of the gesture. It’s simple, loving, and shouldn’t mean anything to me.

“I’m glad I was here to help.” My words feel jumbled and incoherent, but she smiles so I must’ve made some sort of sense. She steps back and isn’t shy about the way she’s looking at me. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I stand there under her microscope. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?” she asks.

“I’m supposed to be shopping for Holly, but as you can see, I haven’t been doing very well.”

Delaney smiles. But it’s different from others. It seems mischievous and I have a feeling I’m about to regret being in this mall.

“Tell you what. Since you helped me, I’ll help you shop.”

I hate shopping, and I’d be a fool to pass this up. I nod frantically, feeling like a dog begging for a treat.

“But… first we have lunch because I’m starving.” She doesn’t wait for my response before linking arms with me. We only get a few steps away before she removes her arm. I get it. I’m not the type of guy she’s usually attached to and probably doesn’t want to have to explain what she was doing with a country bumpkin. I try not to let any of this bother me. She’s a big time Hollywood actress. I’m nobody, but a guy she dated a long time ago.

As soon as we enter one of the staple restaurants at the mall, the hostess’s eyes all but bug out of their sockets. Believe me, I feel the same way. I smile and pretend this is an everyday occurrence for me, hanging out with Delaney Du Luca.

“Only two, and someplace with a bit of privacy and away from the windows, please,” Laney tells the star-struck hostess.

“Will this work, Miss Du Luca?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I sit across from her, but for a moment I think about sitting on the same side to offer her a bit of shelter from the other patrons, but as I look around, it’ll be no use. People are already recognizing her.

The prices on the menu make my stomach flip. Anything extra goes right to the pile of medical bills. Eating out is a frivolous expense I rarely partake in. I settle on the cheapest item and close the menu.

“Did you find something?”

“Yes, I’m going to get the chip appetizer.”

Laney opens her menu back up and looks until she lands on my selection. There’s a noticeable tick in her jaw, which means she’s about to unleash one of her famous tantrums. Back in high school, we all knew when she was about to explode. Her jaw tightens, her eyes wander and her lips do this thing that can only be described as pursing and smashing together. I know I’m in for it now.

“Have you had lunch?” she asks, almost as if I’m ten years old.

I shake my head.

“So why the chips?”

“I just—”

“It’s on me, okay. You rescued me and this is the way I can repay you, so you order what you want and be prepared for me to pick off your plate.”

I smile and lean forward. My hands are under the table and I don’t know what possesses me to do this, but my fingers brush against her knees. Laney doesn’t move, so I continue to do it, wondering if she’s still ticklish there. “Let me get this straight. Little Miss Hollywood still picks food off others’ plates?”

She closes the distance between us. “First, don’t call me that ridiculous nickname. Second, only the plates of people I like. Third, you know I’ll order a salad and hate it so you best order a monster cheeseburger with bacon and fries so I have something to eat. I may have been gone for ten years, but I haven’t changed.” Her rant is adorable, if not a little child-like. Yet, I like it. She’s like a breath of fresh air that I desperately need.

“That much.”

Her mouth drops open, and she leans back against the booth. “What do you mean?”

I shrug, wishing I could get up and go sit next to her, but I can’t. “I see the magazines every now and again, listen to what Dom says.”

“I haven’t changed, except for the fact that living in the land of sun is the most amazing feeling ever. Although, I never thought I missed the snow until I was standing in the dining room the other day and saw a deer cross my parent

s’ backyard. I don’t know, there’s something about fresh snow…”

“It’s magical.”

“Yeah, it is.” She doesn’t say anything else as our waiter appears. I appease her by ordering what she wants, but add onion rings as well. Deep down, Laney is a food junkie and I imagine having to look a certain way in front of the cameras might take its toll. If I can make her smile, I’m going to do it.