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.

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, can her heart—and career—survive the hit if her Hanukkah hoax puts her on the naughty list?