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 . . . to not 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 festival goers 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.
Locked into a lie greasier than the most deep-fried of latkes, and hotter than a menorah's sparks, Marisa tries hard to focus on the endgame: saving her business. But when plaids and promises go flying, she wonders whether her heart can take the hit if her Hanukkah hoax puts her on the naughty list.
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