She didn’t mean to lie about having a boyfriend, and she definitely wasn’t prepared for a sexy Scottish rugby player to say yes.
Christmas can’t come early enough for nice Jewish girl Marisa Silver. Her floundering confectionery business needs a visit from a huge—sorry, Santa—cash cow.
If not, she’ll spend her thirties still wearing the two things she wishes she could douse in oil and light on fire: her daytime cater-waiter uniform and her family’s perpetual disappointment.
What she needs is a Hanukkah—or Christmas, she’s not picky—miracle. What she needs is for the chairwoman of the town’s couples-only Crystal Christmas Ball to hire her. What she needs is . . .
not to lie through her teeth about having a boyfriend who loves Christmas.
Or correct the assumption that the sexy Scot standing behind her, none other than famed rugby player Alec Elms, is actually her Christmas-loving boyfriend and a draw that festivalgoers can’t resist.
And for some meshuggeneh reason, he goes along with her fake-dating charade, though it’s not without objectives of his own.
