Page 62 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
“Your mall Santa,” I reiterated. “Is he near the tree, or in a different location?”
“Different location.” Roger shared a look with North, whose attention shifted right back to me as if steering the conversation back into my power. Roger cleared his throat. “Usually the tree is used as a photo-op, and Santa is set up in a different mall square to keep the kids and the adults a little more separate.”
“That hardly seems like the spirit of Christmas,” I said.
Roger blinked.
North hid his smile behind his hand as he ran a thumb along his jaw.
I felt like I had the reins, and I wasn’t going to lose momentum now. I scooted to the very edge of my seat. “Picture this. Santa’s village is set up at the base of a grand, towering, swoon-worthy Christmas tree—the sort of tree you’d imagine would be in the North Pole. Full of silver and gold ribbon, red and green baubles, and chaotically wrapped Christmas presents. Elves are all around, hurrying around the base of the tree andinsideit, leading the line of kids to visit Santa through a tunnel cut into the low branches. Inside, there can be places to stop for photo-ops for families and maybe a gift-wrapping station.” I pressed a finger to my chin as more ideas surged to the foreground. “Ideally, the tunnel through the tree would feel transportive for the kids, like they actuallyhadstepped into Santa’s village, and when they emerge back into the mall, Santa is there to invite them onto his lap, ask them their wish list, and take some photos.”
North looked across the table at Roger.
I held my breath.
“Hmm,” Roger said, lips pressed firmly together in a straight line that betrayed nothing. “You can pull this off in the days you have?”
No idea.
“Yes,” I said with a confident nod.
North stepped up to the plate to close the deal. He shifted into his business demeanor, all smooth talk and sales figures, and I sat back, watching the master work while I concocted more ideas of how glamorous and magical the tree could be for the kids. They were who this was all about, after all. They were the ones who mattered. Sure, Roger might have thought his generational shoppers, basically consumers, were the ones he needed to impress, but I didn’t agree with that.
After North’s final pitch, Roger slumped in his chair.
“You make a fine case, Winter Dodson. A fine case. But,” he paused, dark eyes flicking from me, to North, and back to me. “I am unfortunately already locked in contract with the other company.”
North took a slow inhale beside me followed by an even longer exhale.
Without my trying, my eyebrows drew together. “Okay.”
What else was I supposed to say?
North shifted his position in his chair, settling back to cross one leg over the other. How he managed to sit like that when his limbs were all so long and he dwarfed the chair, I had no idea.
“You knew this entire time you wouldn’t be hiring us?” North asked, his voice smooth and seemingly unbothered, but I saw irritation in his eyes—eyes I was beginning to be able to read better than the ones in my own reflection.
Roger splayed his hands in a show of innocence. “I admit I was indulging this meeting to see what you’d come up with. This year has been tight for us, if I’m being transparent, and for business reasons, I’m not in a position to take any risks this year. So, on that note, I’m going to have to say no for now and stick with what we know.”
North rose to his feet. “I understand. Business is business. There’s no hard feelings here. But next time,” he added, a smile lingering on his lips as his large fist encircled Roger’s hand in a shake, “be transparent before we make the drive into the city. This could have been handled via phone.”
Roger gave a nervous laugh. “You are right, of course, Mr. Waylon. Before you go, I do have a proposition. Please do not perceive this as me wasting your time.”
North stared at the smaller man like he would decide what was a waste of his time, not be told.
I got to my feet, too.
Roger clasped his hands behind his back. “If you’re willing, I’d like to take Miss Dodson up on her pitch for next year’s tree. Precisely as you pitched it, my dear.” He tipped his head to me. “I think your idea is quite clever, and I’d love to see it executed. We can sign paperwork right now to set it in stone. A Waylon tree, and design managed by Winter Dodson.”
My heart raced.
A contract? That wasmine?
North spoke before I had a chance. “Shall I step out of the room while the pair of you negotiate compensation?”
Roger watched me expectantly, and even though I wanted North to stay to be my security blanket, I gave him a grateful smile and told him we wouldn’t be long. North put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed while looking into my eyes. It was a silent and subtle way of sayingyou got this, and as he walked out, it made me feel confident enough to lift my chin and know my worth as Roger opened the door for the money talk.
He started low, and I countered high, and we settled in the middle with a number that seemed outlandishly high to me.
