Christmas With Kris Kringle

Chapter 17

Upon arriving to work, Chloe was chomping at the bit to talk with me. Following me to my office, she closed the door behind her.

“Closed door? This must be bad,” I said, dropping into my chair.

She took a seat at one of the two chairs on the other side of my desk. “Have you ever Googled Kris?”

“What?” My stomach dropped to my toes because a question like that meant there was something to find.

“Kris Kringle our resident Santa, have you Googled him?”

“No,” I said. I knew there were plenty of people who Googled potential mates. But I wasn’t one of them. I preferred to learn about a partner organically. An internet search took the fun out of getting to know one another.

“You need to Google him right now,” she insisted.

“Wait, why were you searching for Kris online?”

“I was rewatching the news segment about your Christmas display and a comment caught my eye.”

The thrum of my heart was competing with the sound of Chloe’s voice. Please don’t let it be a secret wife. “What type of comment?”

“Would you just Google and see for yourself”

Unlocking my computer, I pulled up a search page.

Chloe rounded the desk, pointing at my monitor. “Search Kristoff Kringle Silicon Valley. If you search, Kris Kringle alone you’ll just get a bunch of Santa related hits.”

Maybe he had a criminal record, or he’d shot a tiger for sport in Bangladesh. What if he was some abusive, toxic, scammer wanted in three states? All I knew about Kris were the things he told me. What if every word out of his mouth was a lie?

“Hello? Would you hit the damn key?” Chloe’s annoyed voice pulled me from my doomsday imaginations.

I closed my eyes and hit enter. Please don’t let it be no fuck shit. Please don’t let it be no fuck shit. The feed came to life with entry after entry about Kristoff Kringle, big tech’s one to watch.

“Are you seeing this?” Chloe yelled as I scrolled. “Stop, click on that one.” She pointed to an article from Wired Magazine . When I clicked the link, Kris’s face popped up, he was on the cover. The title calling him and his company Virtual Labs, the future of tech. I didn’t even know he had a company, I thought he was an independent contractor. He said he created apps but failed to mention the team of employees working to support him.

“Scroll down,” she commanded. I did as she asked, stopping at a bolded section when she yelled out, “There … right there.”

I read one hundred and ten million dollars. It said Kris, my Kris, was worth one hundred and ten million dollars.

“This has to be some mistake … right?” Chloe asked. “If he’s rich why is he clocking in every day as a mall Santa?”

“Maybe he has a twin.” I’d never told Chloe about WordBop and Kris’s year of micro retirement. I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention his way.

“A twin who’s also named Kristoff? Not bloody likely.”

Yeah, it was far-fetched, but I would much prefer that over the other potential options. I was fine when I thought he was a modest millionaire with maybe a million in his bank account. This … this was millions. None of it made sense. Why didn’t he say he was a millionaire several times over and not some guy who just had a lucky break? You don’t accumulate millions off sheer luck. It’s not like hitting the lottery, that was luck. Earning millions of dollars required hard work, talent, and cunning.

After Chloe laid out all her conspiracy theories, she left me alone to continue to click on article after article filled with praise and criticism of Kris and Virtual Labs. A company he started at the age of twenty-four. I’d reached the point of information overload with each new story or video sending me into a steep spiral. I watched a thirty-minute panel interview with Kris and the guys who created the Angry Birds game.

Shutting my computer, I stared out the window at the bustling Christmas display below. I needed answers and I was going to get them from the “Millionaire Bachelor of Minnesota.” That was literally what he was called in an article from earlier this year in Minnesota Monthly Magazine .

After work, I headed to Kris’s place as planned. I decided it was better to wait until we were both off the clock to have this discussion. Confronting him at the mall could end up being a bad look for me. What if he was defensive or the argument took an intense turn Was that what we were about to have, an argument?

Now when I visited Kris’s apartment, I didn’t have to wait to be announced. I was on the approved guest list and directed straight toward the elevators. When the doors opened into his apartment, the lights were low and there was soft jazz music wafting in the background. Whatever mood he was attempting to inspire was about to be shattered. Kris approached the elevator with a huge smile and open arms.

“You lied to me,” I said.

His arms dropping to his sides. “Hello, to you too.”

“You lied to me.”

“About what?” He fidgeted with the collar of his T-shirt not fully meeting my eyes.

“Everything.”

“Well that’s a lot of ground to cover.” He laughed nervously. “Did you talk to Tyler or something?”

“No, I Googled you. Well, Chloe Googled you, and then I Googled you.”

“Oh.” His posture slumped as his shoulders relaxed. I can’t explain it but it was almost as if he was relieved.

“You said you were a regular guy. Regular guys don’t have internet pages dedicated to their net worth. You know what comes up when you search my name? Diddly squat.”

“So you’re mad at me because of a Google search?”

“Yes.”

“Belen, I told you I worked in tech.”

“At no time did you mention Virtual Labs. Do you remember them? Your company in San Jose.”

“I’m familiar.”

“Tell me, how exactly does one run a California corporation from Minnesota?”

Kris shoved his hands into his pockets. “How mad are you? Are you so mad that you’re not going to eat? Because I ordered Thai food from that place you like.”

I was starving and that Thai spot was cease fire worthy. “I’m going to eat but after I’m done I may not stay.” My anger was not going to stand in the way of spicy chicken curry.

“What about a kiss? Are you too mad for that?” He walked forward slowly, waiting for me to protest. But an objection never came and I allowed him to kiss me for far longer than I’d intended. Why am I this way? In the car I practiced my righteous indignation and prepared to chant liar, liar pants on fire and just minutes later I found myself pressed against the wall moaning into his mouth as he helped me shed my coat and scarf.

When I collected my senses, I asked again but my tone was less accusatory. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want that to be a factor when deciding whether or not to date me. It’s not a secret but it’s not something I openly share.”

“The articles claim you’re worth one hundred and ten million dollars.”

“Those things are never accurate.” He waved my words away.

“So you’re not worth millions?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“How much?”

“Does it matter?”

“Kris, I have seven thousand dollars in my savings account and I budget down to the penny.” I waited in silence for him to offer up the same transparency.

“I’m worth a little more than that.”

He was an open book about everything else but this. Values, beliefs, financials were all part of the getting to know you process. Hi my name is Kris, I’m from Canada. I have two younger siblings. And I have amassed a level of wealth most only dream about.

Kris clicked his tongue. “This doesn’t change anything. You know me.”

“I thought I did. You kind of downplayed your situation. You made it sound like you were selling shit on Esty.”

“No, you assumed that.”

“I didn’t assume a damn thing, you led me to believe you were small time. You have been on the cover of Wired Magazine , Tech Today , and you were featured in Forbes .”

Kris lifted a sulky shoulder.

“ Forbes !” I yelled, pulling the documented proof out of my overstuffed purse. I’d printed off pages and pages of articles about him. He was not small potatoes. He was a loaded baked potato with all the fixings. “I just thought we were building toward something.”

“We are.”

“Not with secrets between us. I knew you had money; I mean look at this place. But I thought we were talking about a few million dollars not hundreds of millions of dollars.”

“I don’t think it makes a difference.”

“Of course, you don’t because you’re rich. But you can have anything you want, go anywhere you want. While most people live with limits, your life is limitless. It absolutely matters.”

He blew a rush of air through his nose. Tugging the documents from my grasp, Kris tossed them aside before collecting my hands in his. “I’m more than my profession. And I’ve found real connections form when I don’t immediately mention my company. Virtual Labs is a big part of my life, of course I want to share that with you. I’ve just been burned in the past by people I trusted and who I thought actually liked me. But more times than I can count it ended with hands extended from individuals who believed I owed them something.

“I have no problem taking care of the people I love. It makes me happy. But I don’t want you to tolerate me because I have money. I don’t want you to force something that isn’t there because of the money. I need to know you genuinely fuck with me. If this is going to work between us, I have to be enough. Because you’re enough for me, color-coded monthly budget and all.”

“How do you know I have a color-coded budget?”

“I mean you’re meticulous, so it was a lucky guess.”

I gave a fake laugh at his lame joke before softening my stance. “Kris, I love you. If you had nothing, I’d still be here.”

“Even if I didn’t have a car and I borrowed yours while you were at work all day?”

I cringed. “You know your dick is top tier so you might get away with that.” Honestly, I’d done stupider shit for lesser men. “I don’t care about the money. All I want is you.” I gently shoulder checked him, brushing past to grab plates for our steamed rice and saucy chicken. Dishing out a hearty serving of food, I tried my best not to jump his bones as he rubbed my shoulders from behind, planting a kiss on my neck.

“So you forgive me?”

I spun around and tugged on his beard. “Of course I do. It’s kind of hard to stay mad at this face.”

“Wait, was this our first fight? Because if that was a fight, I think we are obligated to have make-up sex.”

“That is not how it works.”

“Baby, I don’t make the rules. But I am a law-abiding citizen.”

Kris found my lips and nothing else mattered. Not the restless rumble from my empty belly or the story of his life now scattered across the concrete floors. All I wanted was this, the way he closed his eyes as his hands moved over my curves. The rich timbre of his voice as he told me how much he needed me.

Placing my hand in his shorts, I stroked him. His warm appendage grew and stiffened in my hand. Kris backed away quickly, stripping away his clothes. I followed his lead, dropping my garments in a pile next to our feet. His hard body leaned in, closing the space between us until he had me backed up against the fridge.

He claimed my mouth once again, his long tongue searching for mine. His touch sent chills down my spine while simultaneously heating my core like lava. Hooking my leg up around his waist, he slid himself in place. The force of him driving into me again and again caused the contents of the fridge to jiggle and clink inside.

Cupping his face in my hands, I angled his head until we were eye to eye. “No more secrets, okay,” I whispered against his mouth.

“Yeah, mm-hmm … no more secrets.”