All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,14

me.

Oh, and I was dressed as one of Santa’s Little Helpers.

With glitter shimmering on my cheeks and my petite figure wrapped up in a green velvet elf dress, I looked all of sixteen years old. I was sure of it.

For months now, I, Evan Munro, had been trying my hardest to make my brother’s best friend/my boss, see me as something other than his best friend’s wee sister who was not only thirteen years his junior but the woman he offered a pity job to.

Okay, so it was a little harsh to call it a pity job. Landing a well-paid PA position after graduating university with a degree that couldn’t get me a job that didn’t require stocking shelves in a supermarket, demanded more respect than that. However, it was safe to say I only got the job because my big brother, Patrick, asked his successful best friend, Reid Shaw, to give me the position on a trial period.

One would think, in this difficult economy, that I’d do anything to keep the job.

For instance, I wouldn’t be mooning over my boss with an infatuation the size of said planetary satellite. But I couldn’t help it.

Until recently I’d become obsessed with showing Reid that the thirteen-year age gap between us didn’t matter because I was a mature, wise-beyond-my-years, woman who would rock his freaking world in and out of the bedroom.

After events of the last few months, I thought I’d made progress.

And I had.

But it still didn’t matter.

Because to Reid I would always be his best friend’s untouchable little sister.

Weeks ago, wearing this costume in front of Reid would have mortified me. Now I couldn’t care less.

In fact, it was pretty damn funny.

I was sure Reid would never see me as a woman he could take seriously again but as I smiled out at the excited faces of the kids lining up to see Santa Claus, I no longer cared.

Fine.

That wasn’t entirely true.

It hurt like hell.

But I had a little something called self-respect, and if Reid was too afraid to take a chance on me because of Patrick, then he wasn’t the right man for me.

Bing’s voice trailed off and Mariah Carey flooded over the PA system of the department store.

Santa, some guy I’d only met an hour ago called Gary, gestured to me and then to the pile of presents under the Christmas tree. I stifled my chuckle as the bells attached to the pointy toes of my elf shoes jingled as I walked. A little girl with laughing brown eyes caught my attention, and we shared a giggle together just before I bent down to collect the next gift from under the spectacular tree.

A whoosh of cool air hit my backside and I straightened, blushing. The elf costume was not only roasting hot, it came with a stiff petticoat that meant the skirt didn’t fall down over my bum when I bent over. Everyone was probably getting an eyeful of my red and green striped bottom.

I was wearing elf stockings.

Seriously, I needed to learn how to say the word ‘no’.

Feet jingling, bell jingling on my green Santa hat that matched the dress that came to mid-thigh, I strolled over to Santa and gave him the present. He winked flirtatiously at me.

Charming.

I tried not to wrinkle my nose at his inappropriateness.

The young boy at Santa’s side took hold of the brightly wrapped gift, all distress at talking to a strange man disappearing as his mum came to take him away. That was my cue.

I shuffled over to the front of the line and smiled at the waiting father and his little girl. I bent toward her, knowing I was probably giving Santa an eye full of my stockinged arse. Everything about the costume was silly and childish, except for the arse revealing part. The dress was high-necked. The sleeves long. Both collar and wrists trimmed in white fur.

The costume was bought for a sixteen-year-old high school girl who hadn’t shown up to be Santa’s elf because she had the flu.

Margaret, the manager of the women’s department, had volunteered me to do the job since I was the only one who could fit into the costume. While I should have asked for Reid’s permission first, seeing the panic on Kerry, our store event coordinator’s face, I knew I had to help her.

We’d advertised Santa’s Grotto everywhere, and parents had paid tickets for their kids to visit Santa and take home a quality gift for Christmas. Determining Reid would be more annoyed