LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Christmas, Matthew Blanchard kept reminding himself, was traditionally the season to be jolly. He was doing his level best to live up to that optimistic theory. He might have done a better job of it had he not been staring at a total disaster smack-dab in the middle of his Christmas display.

      Every year, on the Monday after Thanksgiving, the fifth floor of Blanchard’s Department Store was transformed into a children’s fantasyland. And Matt had gone all out on this year’s Santa Claus display.

      Life-size animated reindeer stood on either side of the dais, their curly eyelashes blinking and their majestic antlers solemnly swaying back and forth as each child came forward to greet Santa.

      A spectacular Christmas tree stood at the back of the platform, its thick branches loaded down with red and white ornaments, twinkling lights and packages wrapped with bright ribbon bows. Close by, cardboard elves peeked from the windows of a six-foot-high gingerbread house, which was smothered in candy canes and jelly beans, while a lifelike Mrs. Claus smiled from the peppermint-studded doorway.

      In the middle of all this glittering splendor sat a huge red velvet chair, and it was there that Matt’s gaze was focused in sheer disbelief. The plump, jolly old gentleman—mankind’s fond image of Santa Claus—was noticeably absent. In his place sat a ridiculous miniature of that esteemed character.

      It seemed to Matt as if the damn chair swallowed up the red-suited figure. The fur-lined cap rested precariously on Santa’s lopsided eyebrows, and his feet swung an inch or two off the floor. As an added highlight, instead of boots, the delicate feet sported a pair of elegant, black high-heeled shoes.

      Matt waited with barely controlled patience until the tousle-haired boy with freckles had scrambled down from Santa’s ridiculously small lap. Then, drawing in a deep, slow breath, he marched up to the dais, mounted it and held up an imperious hand.

      “I’m

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