Page 2 of A Real Man for Christmas

A mountain vista spanned the background. The three-dimensional peaks rose majestically, snowy against a cerulean blue sky. A Swiss chalet sat nestled in the mountains with a running mini-ski lift chugging to the top of the highest background summit. I almost expected to see skiers exiting the lift and whooshing down the slopes. My eyes traced the route descending the mountain, admiring the realistic way the background grew by degrees until the perspective reached the foreground and illuminated the life-size male mannequin featured front and center.

And there my gaze halted.

He was beautiful. My breath caught, my knees wobbled, my heart stalled. Chiseled jawline? Yes. Full, sculpted mouth with achingly kissable lips? Oh, yeah. But the one word that popped into my head to describe him?

Soulmate.

That was the word. The one word. Not dreamy or heartthrob orfor a good time, call. Nope, it was soulmate. “Soulmate” in giant block letters, lit up in Times-Square-bright neon lights.

I shook my head even as I smiled. A giggle of delighted, outraged, sheerly incredulous laughter bubbled up from the back of my throat. No one could have a mannequin for a soulmate—no matter how lifelike he appeared. Ridiculous.

“Margot! Are you listening to me?” My sister huffed in my ear. I’d forgotten I was holding the phone.

“Yes, Lindsay.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the beautiful mannequin in the window with his gaze on a far-flung vista out of view. What would I see if I were standing there beside him? I’d be wearing an adorable coordinating snowsuit, of course. My dry and warm-booted feet would be atop skis, ski poles tucked under my arms. I wouldn’t see through the window to the slushy street outside and the Tanner Ltd. Real Estate Group sign across the way. No. I’d see what he was seeing—an expanse of fresh powder ready for our matching trails in the snow, our matching trails through life.

“I’m serious, Margot!” Lindsay’s voice rose to new heights. Was Troy seriously going to marry her? There was no way Lindsay had shown her fiancé all her bad sides yet. Not the full decagon. But she was so much nicer when Troy was around. For this reason alone, I fully approved of my brother-in-law to be. He made my sister a better person. So where was he right now? I could really use his help in ending this conversation.

“Lindsay?” I called into the phone speaker, pretending not to hear her.

“Yes. Hello, Margot?” she shouted. “Margot? Can you hear me?”

“Lindsay?” I yelled. “I can’t hear you. Hello? Hello?” My finger slipped for a second time and ended the call. I tucked the phone in my pocket and pretended not to hear it when it immediately rang again.

I stepped closer to the display window until I was near enough to touch it. My breath faintly fogged the glass. Another woman edged up next to me, her eyes on the mannequin. A sharp spike of jealousy jabbed me. I didn’t want her evenlookingat my man…um, mannequin. The woman had bouncy, untamed curls, but she was wearing a black coat. Probably a native New Yorker, though if so, I was surprised NYC hadn’t sleeked the curl right out of her locks.

I inched nearer to the window until I was practically hugging it. I angled my body so the woman couldn’t see me as I let my free hand rest against the glass. The surface was smooth and cold on my gloveless fingers, but it was almost like I was holding hands with the man in the window. My fingers felt warmer just imagining it.

A shadow crossed the display, and the mannequin’s index finger shifted. My head snapped back. Did he just move? Of course not. Couldn’t have. Although very realistic looking, he was a mannequin, an inanimate object.

But what if he wasn’t? What if he was arealman, interested in me?

I stared up into his eyes and pictured that far horizon he was seeing, my lips—warm, inviting—opening for a kiss…

Movement caught my eye. His head shifted. He looked at me. Hesawme. The mannequin winked.

I shrieked and grabbed the coat sleeve of the woman standing next to me. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” The woman’s head reared back, and she stepped away, yanking her sleeve out of my grasp.

“He winked at me!” I jumped up and down and pointed at the now unmoving mannequin. “He winked at me!”

The curly-haired woman shrugged with a growing smile. “First time in New York? They get live models to be mannequins sometimes. They’re really good.” Her brow furrowed. “Although I’ll say this one certainly doesn’t look like a live model.” She studied him closely. I resisted the urge to tell her to back off my man.

Wait, if this really was a real man and not a mannequin, then a real man had actually winked at me. A heart-poundingly attractive man around whom a whole department store window display had been built. A real man who could conceivably accompany me to my younger sister’s wedding. It was bad enough that Lindsay was beating me to the altar. What was worse was that I didn’t even have a date. With him on my arm, I wouldn’t have to be the sad, last, shriveled pancake at the breakfast bar.

My heart danced. I lifted onto my tiptoes, practically pressing my whole body against the windowpane.

Maybe he’d wink at me again. Maybe he’d mouth the digits of his phone number. Even better, maybe he’d pantomime that we should get coffee—and more—together. And then our happy future could start right now.

A dark curtain whisked closed in front of the window, and my mannequin crush was obscured from view. I gasped and grabbed the woman’s arm again.

“Where did he go?”

She shook me off. “It’s over,” she said. “His shift is over. They only do the special holiday displays from ten to noon. It creates more of a buzz.” She nodded to the crowd that had formed behind us and was now starting to disperse.

“Thanks.” My spirits sank. My slender thread of hope was snipped. It was time to go back to the hotel and help Lindsay. And then crawl into a corner somewhere and hide my dateless body so Josh wouldn’t find out how unlovable I still was.

And yet. The model was probably still inside the store. The feeling of our connection, the flashing neon sign of hissoulmatestatus, pulsed anew within me. Maybe there was hope. I was being ridiculous, but I wouldn’t know unless I was brave enough to try.

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