and loins of sweet young ladies as he snapped orders and scowled. If young Ebenezer was a hunk with great hair and a lean body. If he smelled subtly of Christmas trees and freshly fallen snow.
Ebenezer was probably terrible in bed. I bet it was what turned him into such a grump. He probably came really fast and had no idea what to do with his tongue.
"We're done with this conversation," Nick finally snaps, looking resigned even though he's won. His eyes drop to my feet before he turns back to his monitor, an obvious dismissal. "Pack sensible footwear," he tosses out. "It's all cobblestones and uneven steps and the last thing I need is to carry you when you break an ankle."
I don't say anything more. My hand falls from my hip in defeat as I pivot on my inappropriate-for-cobblestone heels and walk to the door of Nick's office. As I reach the threshold my eyes snag on the bulletin board. Something has finally been tacked to it. I slow my exit long enough to see what it is.
It's a handwritten letter.
From a little girl.
Made out to the Flying Reindeer Toy Company and written in a curly childish print with purple ink. Katlyn from Conroe, Texas wants us to know that our Dog Detective board game is her favorite game in the whole wide world but she also wants to know why all the dogs are boy dogs and wonders if we could please add a girl dog named Chloe? She also suggests that Chloe should be the lead dogtective.
A few months ago Nick went on a warpath during a weekly meeting about gender stereotypes and then demanded a detailed analysis from every product manager, for every toy. Reports were required to include the targeted age range of each product, the implied gender of the toy and a five-year history of the marketing materials flagging any gender bias.
"Send your data to Holly," he said, even though I wasn't in charge of anyone. He wanted me to organize the data on one spreadsheet. With pivot tables.
I was annoyed, to be treated like a secretary responsible for compiling everyone's work, but I am a bit magical with an Excel spreadsheet and he’s the boss. So I did it, of course. Besides, two of the product managers are a bit… set in their ways. By which I mean they're nearing retirement and not real savvy with technology. Or open to gender-neutral toys. There was some grumbling about the gender of robots that week, believe me.
The Dog Detective game was updated just in time for the new version to hit retailers for the all-important fourth quarter. We also spent a good deal of money having the new edition featured as a Black Friday deal at the nation’s largest retailer, KINGS.
The new edition included two lead dogtectives, named Chloe and Katlyn.
I chance a look over my shoulder at Nick. He's not looking at his monitor, he's looking directly at me.
Chapter 4
"I can't believe you're complaining about a free vacation to Europe with your hot boss. You're a disaster, Holly." My sister Ginger is scowling at—you guessed it—a slab of gingerbread.
"It's not a vacation, it's a business trip!" I protest. "With the Grinch of Reindeer Falls!" I add, because clearly she's missing the most important and worst detail.
"The acidity of this dough is off. Something is off." Ginger swipes at her forehead, leaving a streak of molasses across her skin. "I can't let Keller James win. My entire future is at stake and you're complaining about a trip to the North Pole. Unreal."
"It's not the North Pole," I grumble. "It's Nuremberg, Germany." Which, to be fair, is probably even better than the North Pole on account of all the charming Bavarian architecture. Plus there's really nothing to do at the North Pole, what with it being located in the midst of the Arctic Ocean and all.
"Doesn't Keller James have his own show on the Food Network?" Noel asks from her perch on a barstool at Ginger's kitchen counter. She asks the question around a mouthful of gingerbread. We're a few batches into this night.
"Yes," Ginger sighs before repeating the words the Food Network, as if she's in church and they're meant to be revered.
"I don't care how many TV shows he has. Nobody makes gingerbread like you, Ginger," I console. "He doesn't stand a chance."
"I need the prize money to open Ginger's Bake Shop. Keller James doesn't need the prize money! Why are they making