Something MORE for Santa Page 3

  “Um, hello. Can I get you something?” Derek looked confused, even a little worried.

  “Relax. I’m not stalking you,” Max said. “Though I do want to talk to you. You’re not in trouble, so get that look off your face. I’m not hungry, but you could bring me some wings or something. Do you have a break soon?”

  “I haven’t had a real break yet tonight. We’re short one waiter, but I’ll see if I can grab a few minutes. I’ll bring your wings and a refill on that.” Derek indicated the beer.

  “Actually, bring me some iced tea with the wings. I’m not much of a drinker.”

  Intrigued, Max watched as Derek left his table and turned the order in. He was like poetry in motion, moving among the tables, the dancers, and the standing observers with lithe grace. Max found himself getting hard, unable to take his gaze from the nimble young man.

  From over his shoulder, he heard a slurred voice, say, “If you’re hoping to hit on that tonight, you’re destined for disappointment. Derek doesn’t put out.”

  Max turned to find a nice-looking man, with red, close-cropped hair standing over his table. He wore an Armani suit and seemed to be alone. He looked like a businessman, and on any other night Max might have invited him to sit. Tonight, though, he didn’t want Derek to return and find the other chair occupied.

  “Thanks for the update,” Max said, trying to be dismissive, but not rude.

  Derek approached and Max sat up straighter. Derek leaned down to talk into Max’s ear.

  “I can only take about ten minutes, but I can’t sit out here with you. I’d never be left alone. The break room in the back will be empty now. You can have your wings there and we can talk if you want.”

  Max hoped when he stood up that his erection wasn’t as prominent as it felt. It strained his zipper, and he didn’t want anyone making remarks about Derek just because he had a hard-on from watching the man wait tables, for heaven’s sake. The worry didn’t keep him from following that sweet little butt and those wide shoulders to a small room furnished with a couch and a table and chairs.

  Max saw the table had been set with cutlery and napkins. The wings and tea were there, along with an order of fries and a glass of ice water.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I eat, too. I haven’t had anything except the cookies Michael and I ate between shifts tonight. Is that why you’re here, about Michael? I was going to come see you before my shift tomorrow. He’s okay, isn’t he?” Derek sounded like he really cared about Michael.

  “He’s fine,” Max said. “I came to apologize for both my behavior and what looks like negligence on my part as a father. Michael’s regular babysitter, Cindy, has gone home for the holidays to be with her family, so I had to make emergency arrangements.” Max looked down at the wings, they smelled wonderful, but didn’t tempt him nearly as much as the man across from him. “Tawna seemed so eager to be responsible for him, and I was caught up in the many problems of the store. I want to thank you for being there for my son and recognizing a bad situation that needed to be rectified. Tawna doesn’t work at Martin’s anymore.”

  “I didn’t mean to get her fired, but Michael seemed scared of her. That was the second time he’d come to me, and I was worried about him. Like I said, I know it wasn’t my place to—”

  Before Derek could go on, Max interrupted him.

  “Stop. I feel bad enough. I followed your suggestion and took a look at Michael’s shoulder. I found four fingernail marks on him, and while they’ll leave small bruises on his skin, he’s not hurt badly. Thankfully, he’s not traumatized, either.” Max turned his tea glass around and around on the table in a nervous gesture. “But to discover that Tawna was mean to him, didn’t feed him as I’d arranged for her to do, and that she was verbally abusive to him, makes me feel like such a loser as a father. I can’t tell you how I felt when I finally got the whole story out of him. It’s only been four days, but if you hadn’t brought it to my attention, it might have gone on longer; with me totally oblivious to the situation.” Max reached across the table for Derek’s hand, covering it with his own.

  “Tell me, do you have only these two jobs right now?” Max asked, holding Derek’s hand and liking the feel of his skin against his own.

  Derek’s expression turned slightly wary. “Yes. I’ll have to find another after Christmas. I have a degree in business and accounting, and I’ve been looking for a job, but it’s been hard. I, uh, lost my mom to heart disease recently and I’ve been trying to pay off the hospital debt. Her insurance wasn’t the best. It barely covered her surgery and care.” Derek’s head came up suddenly and he asked, “You’re not going to tell me I’ve lost my job there, are you?”

  “No,” Max assured him with a laugh. “I told you, you aren’t going to be fired. I’m really pleased to hear that you have a degree in business and accounting. I lost a secretary tonight, not to mention a babysitter for Michael. This is turning out to be a good thing. Derek, would you be interested in taking over Tawna’s position, both as my secretary and Michael’s babysitter? You can still do the Santa thing, and Michael can continue being Santa’s elf, if you’d like. What do you think? I know you’re probably overqualified for secretarial work, but it would be another job. I can offer you a nice salary. What are your hours here?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I love working for Martin’s. Can you hire me without checking with anyone else? I don’t even know what you do there. But yes, I’d like to watch Michael. He’s a great kid.” Derek fell silent and tilted his head, a smile slowly growing on his face. “In answer to your question, I work here on Tuesday, Wednesday, and the weekend nights. It’s hard to be Santa during the day and then bus tables here until two on the weekends, but it’s only for a couple more weeks.”

  “With what I’ll offer you, you might even be able to quit this job if you wanted to, or maybe just work weekends. Your debt would be paid off sooner and I would have someone trustworthy to watch Michael. What do you think?” Max held his breath, surprised by how much he wanted Derek to take the job. The idea of working closely with Derek made his heart jump.

  “You can do that? Just offer me a job like that? You know, I don’t even know who you are! I only know you as Daddy Max.” Derek grinned, looking sheepish.

  “Max Martin. I own Martin’s Department Stores, all eight of them. I can offer you the job and pay you well for it. I’ll let you think about it and you can give me your decision tomorrow, when you come in for your shift. But right now, you should eat something and get back to work.” Max reached for a chicken wing. “Any chance I could get a dance if I stay ’til close?”

  Derek’s eyes widened, then he nodded; his brilliant smile drawing Max’s attention to his lips and making him wonder how they might taste. Derek caught his look and blushed. This guy is delightful, Max thought. He had to ask one more question.

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “No, sir,” Derek replied seriously. “I wouldn’t dance with you if I was seeing anyone else.”

  “Drop the sir. I’m Max, and if you take the job, maybe Mr. Martin.” He grinned. “We’ll see about that then. But tonight, I’m just Max.”

  Nodding, Derek consulted his watch and nearly inhaled his box of fries. When he’d finished, Max took his wings and tea and headed back out to the bar.

  His table was taken, so he sat at the end of the bar and ate his wings, drank his tea, and watched what he considered to be the floor show; Derek’s graceful movements in and around everyone as he worked. At closing time Derek locked the door behind the last patron and came over to Max. He glanced at the bartender and said, “I’m taking a few minutes, then I’ll do clean up. I owe this man a dance.”

  Max was glad to see the bartender nod as he reached for a switch behind him, killing all the lights except the ones over the bar. Derek went over to a large, old-fashioned jukebox in the corner, dropped in some money, and punched in numbers.

  “I played two,” Derek said. “Is that all right?”

&nb
sp; As the first notes of Beyonce’s “Halo” came on, Max opened his arms and Derek walked into them. Max released a long sigh, savoring the sensation of the other man against him. Derek was about seven inches shorter, so his head fit perfectly in the hollow of Max’s shoulder. Their feet weren’t doing much moving, but they shuffled enough to call it a dance. Max brought one hand up to run his fingers through the hair he’d been dreaming about touching since he’d first seen it.

  Derek’s hair was light brown. Fine and soft, it tumbled across his forehead with a slight wave, while in the back it hung straight to his collar. Max moved his fingers through the soft locks and shivered. He could have sworn he heard a whimper muffled against his shoulder.

  Drawing back a bit, he looked down at Derek and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Derek nodded quickly and leaned into him again. He slid his arms around Max, moving them slowly, hesitantly, over Max’s back. Max eased closer still, until he felt Derek’s hard cock against his upper thigh. He shifted so that he knew Derek could feel his arousal pressing against Derek’s stomach. Derek shivered and tightened his arms. The song ended, but Max kept his feet moving, his arms tightening around Derek as Michael Bublé came on with “Save the Last Dance.” Oh, nice.

  “Will anybody get upset if I kiss you?” Max looked over at the bartender who busily wiped down the bar while the other waiter stacked chairs onto tables.

  “I don’t think so. Don’t care either. If you don’t like how I kiss, can I still have the job?” Derek joked.

  Max laughed and then dropped his head, pressing his lips to Derek’s. Yeah, it was a bad idea, coming on to someone who would be working for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about that now. Not when Derek tasted so wonderfully of mint rather than the fries he’d had for dinner. Had Derek used a breath mint, maybe hoping to be kissed?

  There was no denying it, Max was falling for him. Derek fit so snugly against him, and he kissed like a dream; soft, but not sloppy. Derek kissed like a man, his tongue thrusting into Max’s mouth, sweeping through and conquering Max in seconds. Max met Derek’s tongue and sucked on it, relishing the feel of it inside his mouth. Images sprang to his mind of the two of them on his king-sized bed, without covers or clothes between their naked bodies.

  He’d better get out of here.

  The music stopped and Max drew his mouth from Derek’s, but he couldn’t look at those wet lips without wanting to dive back in. Slowly he drew his hands away, one from Derek’s hair and the other from the small of his back.

  “Tomorrow. Think about it. This,” Max pointed to Derek and then to himself, “won’t affect your job in any way, so don’t worry. I’ll work up a salary and we’ll talk… well, later today. Get some rest and I’ll see you later.” Max leaned to drop a quick kiss onto Derek’s slightly open mouth. Damn!

  Derek followed him to the front door and stood in the doorway watching as Max’s car drove away. Max knew this because he looked in the rearview mirror and saw Derek standing there with one hand up to his mouth and the other wrapped around his body.

  CHAPTER THREE

  So, Daddy Max was Max Martin, owner, not just one of the executives in the company. Wow. And, to go a little further in the OMG category, Max was clearly gay despite the six-year-old son evidence to the contrary. Derek chose to believe the evidence of the dance and the kiss as the true indicator of Max’s preferences. Damn, the man could kiss, besides being drop-dead gorgeous, a loving dad, unbelievably rich, and the best part, interested in him. Him. Derek Campbell. Maybe Christmas was coming early this year.

  Derek rode the elevator up to the offices. The moment the doors swooshed open he heard a high-pitched scream followed by, “Daddy, stop!”

  For an instant Derek froze, not sure what to do. Was Michael in trouble? That blood-curdling yell implied it, but surely… ah, giggles. Derek breathed out again as he heard the little boy’s laughter, followed by a growl from Max. The office door across from the elevator opened and Michael peeked out, laughing.

  “I told you I heard the elevator, Daddy. It’s Santa… I think. Where’s your red suit, Santa?” Michael’s eyes were shining as he ran to Derek.

  Derek reached down to pick Michael up. As he did, Max appeared in the doorway; peering at his watch.

  “I’m early. I’m sorry. I can come back. I was just…” Derek stopped, not wanting to admit that he was anxious to gaze into those odd teal eyes again and discover whether or not last night had been a dream.

  “No, that’s fine. We were just going to order a late lunch. Would you like to join us?” Max offered. Stepping back, he invited Derek inside.

  “Yeah, eat with us, Santa,” Michael said, his arms around Derek’s neck. Then, looking serious, he whispered, “I know you’re not really Santa, but I don’t know your real name.”

  Derek stopped just inside the door, put Michael down, and bent to offer his hand. “Hi, Michael, I’m Derek Campbell. Nice to meet you.”

  Michael giggled again and shook his hand. “Hi, Derek. What do you want for lunch?”

  “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”

  Max chuckled. “You might want to rethink that. Michael has ordered a hot dog and mac and cheese.”

  “Sounds good to me. Beats the ramen I had for breakfast.” Derek followed Michael over to the big couch and sat by him.

  “Hmm.” Max considered. “I think we can do a little better. How about what I’m having? Chicken salad and fruit?”

  Derek’s stomach growled appreciatively at the mention of grown-up food. He’d grown sick and tired of cheap soup and canned spaghetti. Max seemed to read his mind and laughed.

  Beside him, Michael giggled, and Derek chucked him under the chin. “What’s got you all tickled, goofy?”

  “You’re watching my daddy. You like him, I can tell. I bet he sees you, too.”

  Derek considered the funny phrasing, and then remembered that at their first meeting Michael had overheard him saying that he wanted someone who saw him. So, Michael thought his dad might be the one, huh?

  He tousled Michael’s hair then held a finger to his lips. “Shh. That’s enough out of you, little matchmaker.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Never mind.” To change the subject, Derek went into Santa mode. “What do you want for Christmas this year, Michael? Have you been a good boy?” He opened his arms and Michael crawled onto his lap.

  With a very serious face, Michael said, “I’ve tried to be good. I promised I won’t go wundrin’ around the store anymore, ever, without someone with me. Daddy couldn’t stand it if something happened to me and I don’t want to make him unhappy, so I’m going to be so good.” Michael looked from Derek to Max, who was walking back over to them after ordering a meal sent up. Martin’s had a nice cafe on the first level.

  “That’s a good boy, Michael, but you didn’t tell me what you wanted this year.” He leaned down and whispered in Michael’s ear, “Ho, ho, ho.”

  Michael laughed. “Ho, ho, ho. I want a pet. I’d like a great big dog, but a little cat would be okay, too.”

  Derek glanced up at Max, whose pained expression suggested this wasn’t a new request. Derek raised his brows in question. Max nodded, and resignedly mouthed, “Cat.”

  “Well, since you’ve been such a good boy and you promise not to worry your dad anymore, I’ll see what I can do about that. A pet is a big responsibility, though. Are you going to make your dad take care of it, or will you do it?” Derek grinned as Michael squirmed on his lap.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll take such good care of it. I’ll hold it and pet it and feed it. I’ll play with it and make sure it’s not lonely ever.” Michael bounced up and down with enthusiasm.

  “Hey, buddy.” Max lifted Michael from Derek’s lap and raised him high over his head, making the boy giggle again. “Why don’t you go next door and play Mario while I talk to Derek for a few minutes? I’ll call you when lunch is here. Deal?”

  “Okay, Daddy. Please give Santa
Derek the job. I like him a lot. He sees you.”

  Max questioned Derek with a look, then set Michael down and sent him off to play with a pat on his bottom.

  At the door, Michael turned back. “Bye, uh, Mister…?” He tilted his head, a frown on his little face as he tried to remember Derek’s last name.

  “Derek is fine, if that’s all right with your dad.”

  Max nodded and Michael smiled. “Bye, Derek, see you in some minutes.”

  As both men chuckled, Max said, “Sometimes his word choices blow my mind.” Then he sat on the couch beside Derek.

  “He’s a great kid, Max, really. He’s very sweet and he really loves you.”

  “Listen, I want to thank you again for recognizing a situation and bringing it to my attention. I’ll admit I was a little freaked at first, but after seeing the marks on him and hearing what he said about the way Tawna treated him? Well, I felt like I’d failed my son.” Max’s voice shook.

  “It goes back to that assuming thing. You thought you had it covered. I’m sure this Tawna acted much differently around you, you know, made you think she cared about him and so on.”

  Max shook his head. “Maybe, but I should have paid more attention. This is my son.”

  Derek touched Max’s arm. “Hey, as soon as you found out, you took care of it. I’m curious, though. She didn’t seem like much of an employee, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  Max dropped his head for a moment, and then with a much quieter voice began, saying, “You’ve earned the right to question my decision making in this instance. Tawna was recommended by my previous secretary, Martha, who’d been with me for many years. Tawna is her niece. It was a bit of an emergency situation since Martha became ill and her doctor told her she would need to retire due to the nature of her illness.” Max brought both hands up to scrub over his face, as if trying to erase the memories. He continued with his story.

  “She talked like she loved children and was thrilled to be spending time with Michael. I’m a total embarrassment as a parent. I can’t tell you how this has hit me.”