Never.

I throw a circumspect look around. No one’s monitoring the booth, so I enter Santa World and follow Diego behind the hidden door into a tiny backstage dressing room. There’s barely enough space for a locker and a small bench pushed against the opposite wall.

Diego has the upper half of the locker open, which screens him from my view.

“Excuse me?” I repeat.

“Hey.” He closes the locker and throws me an angry stare. “This is personnel only.”

He’s still wearing the fake beard and Santa hat, but the upper part of the red suit is now dangling upside-down from his hips and the belly stuffer is gone, leaving his ripped chest and abs all too visible under a sweat-soaked white T-shirt. With muscles like that, he could win any wet-T-shirt contest.

I tear my eyes away from his chest, saying, “Yeah, I know. But I really needed to talk to you.”

“Listen, lady, if your kid has missed his spot, I’m sorry, but it’s late and I want to go home. We’re doing another event in two days; you can come back then.”

“I’m not here to see Santa. I’m here to see you, Mr. O’Donnell.”

He starts at that. “How do you know my name?”

“Nikki Moore, nice to meet you. I work at KCU Advertising, and I’d like to talk to you about a job opportunity.”

I don’t usually name drop, but I need to gain some credibility before I present him with my crazy plan.

“The big agency on Madison Avenue?”

“Yes, but the job wouldn’t be for the agency; you’d be working for me. Care to hear me out?”

He shrugs. “Mind if I keep getting changed?”

“No, not at all. Go ahead.”

Diego turns around and pulls the wet T-shirt off his back in one fluid motion. I’m momentarily distracted by more male skin than I’ve seen in a long while. Gosh, even his back is ripped.

“I’m listening,” he says, opening the locker again and blocking my ogling feast.

“Mmm, yeah, so.” This is harder to explain than I thought. “It’d be an acting job. Nothing scripted… a lot of improv required. Sort of, you know, like a reality show, but with no cameras. And you might think I’m crazy for asking, but you must understand that the holidays can be a difficult period for many people. Single people, I mean. And people with a family that just won’t back off, especially if they have a baby sister who’s the poster child of perfection in their mother’s eyes. You get what I’m saying?”

Back still turned, Diego says, “Not really.” He rips off the rest of the Santa suit, rewarding me with an unobstructed view of his buttocks clad in close-fitting white boxer shorts. Mmm, those buns are so inviting I have to force myself not to reach out and squeeze one. Luckily, in a few quick moves, he pulls on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and, closing the locker for good, turns all his attention to me.