Operation Toy Rescue

Chapter 1 Thick snowflakes swirled through the air, blowing into the cottage the moment he opened the heavy wooden door. Big surprise. It snowed every flipping day on this damn island. He let the door close with a thud and held his chunky knit scarf close to his face, hoping he was heading in the right direction. Visibility was limited and he hadn’t been around long enough to get oriented. Not for the first time, he was glad he’d broken down and bought the new snowshoes from L.L. Bean. Without them, he’d be sinking much deeper into the hills of snow blanketing the clearing. Jules shivered as he stomped across the snow, hurrying to make it to work on time. He’d been at the island for only a week and so far he’d been late all but one morning. It was definitely not scoring him points with his new boss. He still couldn’t believe he’d been relegated to the island for ninety days. Ninety days! All for taking the sleigh for a joyride. Okay, fine, he’d also taken the stable boy. But in all fairness, that had been out of his control. Caleb had looked so delicious in his new red and green plaid pants with the matching red suspenders that Jules hadn’t been able to resist his sugary charms. A few minutes of flirting, a couple of light kisses, and they were hooking up a couple of reindeer-in-training to the sleigh and gliding over the snow drifts. Unfortunately, someone had seen them and reported the whole thing to the Big Guy. Jules was pretty sure it had been Dancer who’d tattled. When it was announced Jules was temporarily banished from the North Pole, the glee in that reindeer’s eyes had been unmistakable. Dancer’d had it out for him since Jules was a teenager and he’d been busted changing the name on the reindeer’s stall from Dancer to Gangster. The next year, Jules had been caught switching out the bells on Dancer’s harness for mushrooms. They were about the same size as the bells and nobody had noticed until Christmas Eve. Dancer had been furious. Not only did he fly without his bells that year, but was known to hate mushrooms. So, yeah, it had basically been on from there. Apparently Dancer hadn’t snitched on Caleb, or if he had, the boss must have assumed Jules had been the instigator. Which he was. It still burned, though. Everybody always assumed if there was trouble, Jules must be close by. Just because it was usually true didn’t mean that was always the case. The massive log cabin came into view, and he made a final push, wiping at the snowflakes accumulating on his lashes. Warmth was only a few feet away inside the Seasonal Operations Building—or SOB, as it was referred to. Yeah, don’t even get him started on that one. The entrance door opened before he could reach for the handle and he brushed past the petite woman smiling at him. “Good morning, Jules.” Her way-too-chirpy voice grated on him, but he grunted back a “hello.” “You’re on time,” she needlessly pointed out, watching him as he unwound his scarf, then removed his black leather gloves and thick woolen coat. He hung the coat on an empty peg and laid his scarf and gloves on a table to dry, joining several other wet items, then took off the snowshoes. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his gaze landing on Eve. With her white-blonde hair cut in a pixie style, full red lips, bright emerald eyes, and petite upturned nose, she would have made the perfect elf and he wondered why she wasn’t at the North Pole. It certainly couldn’t be that she didn’t have the proper attitude, because she was fairly bubbling over with holiday joy. Yet, somehow, she had ended up at Snow Hope Island, just as he had. He had to wonder what she’d done to get on the Big Guy’s bad side. He noticed someone had hung a sprig of mistletoe near the bathroom door and he rolled his eyes. This place was almost as over-the-top as the North Pole. Almost. Jules glanced over Eve’s shoulder and saw the morning shipment had arrived. He stomped his feet on the hardwood floor, ridding his boots of most of the snow, and strode toward the large hall filled with long, rectangular wooden tables, set up cafeteria style. Stacked chairs lined the far wall, with one or two placed at tables. Paneled walls in knotty pine rose high to meet slanted ceilings with exposed beams. Two oversized windows looked over the clearing through which he’d just trekked, bringing natural light into the room. Three green doors in the back each opened into an office, while a set of stairs in the corner led to the loft, which employees used as a breakroom. Garlands of fresh greenery, held back with poufy red velvet bows, hung from the stair railings and over the windows, filling the room with the scent of pine. He needed caffeine, but knew if he trudged up to the loft, he would find only cocoa. Jules mentally kicked himself for oversleeping and not allowing enough time to brew his morning coffee back at his cottage. He sighed. It could be worse. At least he didn’t have to play at being an elf for the next three months. He’d never wanted to be one in the first place. At six-two, he towered over most of the other elves. Not that a person had to be short to be an elf. That was a total myth. Newsflash: elves came in all shapes, sizes, and genders. “Mr. Winterson is going to be pleased with you today, Jules.” Jules swiveled at Eve’s announcement, finding her so close on his heels she almost crashed into him. “Good grief, Eve. He’s our age, not some old man. You don’t need to call him Mr. Winterson.” He shook his head and eyed the man’s closed door. “Felix is fine. He even told us that,” he reminded her. Her cheeks pinked at his chastising and her gaze fell to the floor. “I know. But he’s our boss.” Right. Boss. Of an island. In charge of toys. If any toys were broken, inadequately made, or inappropriate in some way, they ended up here, and from what Jules could tell, they never left. Which was why everyone back at the North Pole referred to Snow Hope as No Hope. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why there was a Snow Hope Island. It seemed to be a place where toys came to let their dreams die. He sighed and ran his fingers through his shaggy locks. It was time for a haircut. He added that to his mental to-do list—right before “Get the f**k off this island” and after “Find some damn coffee.” When he reached the tables, Jules was surprised to see even more large boxes stacked on the ground. He raised an eyebrow at Eve. “Why did we receive so many more deliveries than usual today?” Her lips curved into a little frown, surprising him. Eve was the eternal optimist. “It’s getting closer to Christmas.” He waited, thinking she would continue, but she just sighed and dropped into the nearest chair, bracing her elbows on the table, her shoulders sagging. She began picking at the tape on a box in front of her. They didn’t have assigned seating at SOB. As long as they sorted through all the boxes, entered the toy, the defect, and the date it arrived into the Toy Box Database (TBD), they could start anywhere they wanted. He grabbed his laptop and powered up, logging into the system within seconds. The island might be a hop, skip, and a jump from the more cultured North Pole, but Jules had to admit, the technology was top notch. “You going to finish explaining about the toys? What do you mean about it being closer to Christmas?” Eve looked up from the box she was cutting open, her green eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t get it?” Jules shook his head, irritated. He was new there—how the hell was he supposed to know the ebb and flow of toy shipments? “Toy manufacturers are trying to meet the demand of Christmas, and some of the less scrupulous ones will cut corners, which leads to mistakes, and they end up with crates full of merchandise not fit for sale. The recording may be wrong on a talking doll, tires don’t fit the dump trucks, pieces missing from puzzles…things like that.” “And they just dump them here?” She nodded as she glanced at the new deliveries, the normal sparkle gone from her eyes. “The toy companies get a tax break by donating them to Santa Claus, but he won’t give out less than perfect toys, so they get rerouted to the island.” Eve met his gaze and shrugged. “It’s heartbreaking knowing every year we have more toys that don’t find homes.” The front door opened, letting the cold air blow through, and their coworker, Zuzu, stepped inside and shook the snow from her perfectly coiffed mahogany hair. She hung up her red wool jacket before sashaying across the floor. Jules wondered if she’d ever been a dancer, because she had that tall, willowy ballerina build, her every step graceful. “Good morning. I see we have a lot of new shipments.” Zuzu tilted her head toward the boxes. “Yes, ma’am. Just in this morning. We’re getting ready to open and catalog them now.” Zuzu smiled warmly, her white teeth gleaming against her ruby red lips. “Call me Zuzu,” she reminded gently, squeezing Eve’s shoulder. “We’re equal here. Okay?” Eve smiled back, her cheeks crimson. “Zuzu,” she whispered. That’s when it hit Jules—Eve was hung up on Zuzu. It was crystal clear to him, but he wondered if Zuzu was even aware. He watched them staring at each other for a moment and he got the vibe she was into Eve, too. “Felix,” Zuzu called a greeting to their boss as he exited his office and headed their way. Jules bit back a moan. Felix looked sexier every day, and it was killing Jules. The man was around four inches shorter than Jules, with tousled dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and adorable dimples in each clean-shaven cheek. Jules had a feeling Felix had a lithe, compact body under those layers of shirts, sweaters, coats, and corduroy pants. The man wore corduroy pants every day. Blue. Green. Black. Burgundy. Today’s were green and, like every other pair he wore, they hugged his ass perfectly, making Jules’s mouth water. He also had the longest, thickest lashes Jules had ever seen on anyone and he often wondered what it would be like to have Felix under him, looking up at Jules through them. Unfortunately, the man was a workaholic, his only priority being his job. Nothing more. He never smiled—at least not that Jules had ever seen—and small talk was not something in which he indulged. Other than welcoming Jules to the “team,” giving him orders, or reprimanding him for being late, Felix had barely spoken to him. Jules had practically hated him from the first day, although that probably had more to do with being upset about the whole “banished from the North Pole” thing. It didn’t matter that Jules found Felix incredibly attractive. Jules liked to have fun, and it was easy to see Felix was definitely not the kind of man who liked to have fun. No matter how sexy the man was, Jules had no interest. None. “Looks like the shipments arrived on time,” Felix stated, his voice flat as he glanced around the room. “Going to be a busy season.” His gaze landed on Jules, lingering a moment on his lips, before glancing at Zuzu. “Christmas is only three weeks away. How are you doing?” “I’m preparing a report for Mr. Claus, in hopes he will stop by this year and deliver some of these to their new homes. They deserve to be loved like any other toy.” She straightened her shoulders and smiled. “I’m going to get started. You’re right. Only three weeks to go and a lot to do!” Everyone watched as she walked away, her heeled boots clicking across the polished wooden floor. “What does she do?” Jules asked. Her title was Snow Globe Specialist, but he really had no idea what that meant. Felix looked at him and shook his head, clearly annoyed with him already. It was on the tip of his tongue to let Felix know he’d been on time that morning, but he stayed quiet, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place. From the day Jules had arrived on the island, he’d gotten the distinct impression that Felix found him irritating. That was new to Jules. He’d always been able to slide by on his charm and good looks. Yeah, he’d found himself in some trouble before, but until this joy ride with Caleb, he’d never had to deal with consequences he couldn’t handle. His ability to talk himself out of any situation was almost legendary, at least in his mind. Trying to get a man to like him? A whole new experience. He shook his head. Clearly Felix wasn’t going to explain Zuzu’s job, so he turned his attention to his laptop. He’d been kicked out for inactivity and logged back in, eager to get started. The sooner he did, the sooner he could head back to his cottage. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Felix look his way before heading back to his office. Using a box cutter, he carefully opened the closest one, revealing a dozen hot pink and neon green stuffed spiders. It took him a moment to determine the issue, until he counted the legs and found they had only seven. He sighed. How the hell did someone forget to put eight legs on toy spiders? He entered the data into the TBD, placed a red bell-shaped sticker on the box, notating the items had been reviewed, and moved on to the next box. Felix would have the night crew handle the new arrivals once everything was entered. Jules wasn’t even sure where they were stored, but every morning when he arrived, the old toys were gone and the new deliveries were waiting to be opened. When he slit the tape on the next box, he was dismayed to see several cases of bubbles encased in plastic—each missing the wand children used to blow the bubbles into the air. What in hell’s bells were they going to do with these? A vision of a huge log structure filled to the ceiling with toys that would never find a home popped into his mind, and for the first time since he’d arrived on Snow Hope Island, he felt a twinge of sadness. How many would never know a child’s love?