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With Love, The North Pole: Christmas Collection (Pixie Christmas Collection Book 1) Read online




  With Love, The North Pole

  ***

  Pixie Christmas Collection

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Statement

  Dedication

  Mistletoe

  Prologue | Brandie

  Chapter 1 | Grace

  Chapter 2 | Brandie

  Chapter 3 | Grace

  Chapter 4 | Brandie

  Chapter 5 | Grace

  Chapter 6 | Brandie

  Chapter 7 | Grace

  Chapter 8 | Brandie

  Chapter 9 | Brandie

  Epilogue One | Brandie

  Epilogue Two | Grace | Five years after that....

  Undercover Santa

  Prologue | Joe Claus

  Chapter 1 | Crystal

  Chapter 2 | Joe

  Chapter 3 | Crystal

  Chapter 4 | Joe

  Chapter 5 | Crystal

  Chapter 6 | Joe

  Chapter 7 | Crystal

  Chapter 8 | Joe

  Chapter 9 | Crystal

  Epilogue 1 | Joe

  Epilogue 2 | Crystal

  His Christmas Delivery

  Prologue | John Alexander

  Chapter 1 | Kent

  Chapter 2 | John Alexander

  Chapter 3 | Kent

  Chapter 4 | John

  Chapter 5 | Kent

  Epilogue One | Kent

  Epilogue Two | John Alexander

  Bonus Epilogue -The Clauses | Genevieve Claus

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Other Books by Author

  Copyright Statement

  With Love the North Pole

  © Pixie Chica 2019

  All Rights Reserved by the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  ASIN: B081SCC9PW

  Dedication

  This one goes out to all my readers.

  Thanks for making 2019 a year to remember.

  Mistletoe

  Prologue

  Brandie

  Day after Thanksgiving...

  IT’S THREE A.M. AS I make my way through the workshop, double-checking the lists. While this usually means chaos for shoppers around the world as they rush around taking advantage of all the sales, nothing compares to the reality of what it means for us at the North Pole. Yes, we do this all year to ensure we have enough gifts for every child, but once that clock hits four, our workshop will be overdrive.

  Hundreds of helpers will arrive soon, and the magic won’t stop until New Year’s when we take a week of vacation before starting over. While most, including my bratty ass twin, see this as their job, it’s my dream. At twenty-six, the youngest of the Claus clan, I’ve had the opportunity to live with many family members, as well as leaving to find a life of my own, like my older brother, Ron, did, but there’s no place else I’d rather be.

  Once I discover everything is ready, including the timers, I turn on the machines and lights, then go outside to feed the reindeer and sigh in happiness. The holiday season is starting, I can feel it in my bones. Wanting to make this extra special, I head to the employee lounge and make hot chocolate for everyone and put out the pastries I baked yesterday.

  The final task is always my favorite – ringing the bell to announce the beginning of the holiday. Tradition calls for Santa to do it, but dad has let me since I was a little. When I was a teenager, my twin would always try to piss me off and threaten to beat me to it, but he could never get up at the crack of dawn. Eventually, I realized he only said it to get a rise out of me. Pushing away those memories, I straighten my skirt and run a hand over my ponytail, determined to let nothing ruin this moment.

  And then, my worst childhood fear comes to life when Joe comes around the corner, stands in front of the bell less than five feet away, and rings my bell. I’m going to kill him. I’m mad as all hell as the sound resonates through the village and I stomp toward him, the urge to slap the smug smirk off his face almost too strong to resist. I try my best to keep a polite smile on my own face, despite the fact I’m gritting my teeth to keep my true feelings in because employees are swarming in and I refuse to let them see my holiday spirit out of whack. Hands clenched into fists, I go toe to toe with him, asking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Did you forget I take over this year? Welcome, little sis,” he taunts me.

  “I hardly find two minutes relevant; your ass just needed the oxygen sooner. Obviously, your brain cells were starved for it. Besides, Dad wouldn’t give the empire to you. You’re lazy, arrogant, and don’t like it here. I’ll laugh at the meeting tonight when he gives you the run around again.”

  “Are you so sure that’s what will happen? Do you want to bet on it?”

  I usually don’t let him get under my skin this much, but everything is heightened after he ruined this for me. Glaring, I shove him with everything I have, though the brute doesn’t move an inch. All brawn, no brains. “I do,” I respond, poking him as I say each word.

  “Fine, if you win, I leave for a whole year. If I do, you have to watch me turn this into the new and improved North Pole without saying a damn thing.”

  Should I agree to this? I’ve been against him trying to digitize for years because he simply wants to take the easy way out. Dad won’t let him take over since I’m more qualified than anyone else. Then again, I also know he’d prefer Ron come to his senses. Calling his bluff, I say, “You’re on, jackass.” After a rougher than needed handshake, we both scoff as we walk away in opposite directions but not before I ring the bell a second, albeit faint this time and see the workers giving us looks. He and I have been at each other’s throats since we were teenagers, meaning I could use a whole year without having to deal with him.

  Putting him and the bet in the back of my mind, I go about helping everywhere I can. Schedules need to be done and routes organized for fastest trajectory. Workers need direction, the inventory counted, and I’m the go-to-girl. My dad is getting to where he wants to retire, so I’ve taken on more responsibilities. He keeps hinting at a vacation, especially since I always stay behind to clean up while everyone else goes on the yearly retreat, but I can’t. I don’t know anything other than this place. Some think it’s the holiday itself I’m obsessed with, but it’s also the traditions and memories that fuel me.

  “Hey, Brandie. Ready for another fantabulous year?” Molly, gift-wrapper extraordinaire and owner of The Lounge, asks. She’s worked with my parents for as long as they’ve been here, and is the closest
thing I have to an aunt. Her son, John Alexander, a toy supervisor, is one of my best friends.

  “Of course! I’m super excited. How’s the class of newbie wrappers holding up?”

  “I see a few with potential. Are you bringing anyone to the after Christmas bash?” She knows full well I don’t bring anyone as of late because dating tends to interfere with all the tasks I deal with on a daily basis.

  “Yeah, that’s not happening,” I reply, joining her at the station to wrap a few gifts while I’m there. Idle hands and such. I’m always doing something.

  “All work and no play makes...”

  “Me a hard worker. That’s what you were going to say right, Auntie.” She shakes her head as if there’s no hope for me.

  Changing the subject, I ask, “Do you know what time the shipment from that specialized shop comes in?” The ornaments they make, which none of our workers can do, are beautiful.

  “I don’t, sweetie, but I’m sure John Alexander could tell you. He’s just as bad as you, working too much.”

  “Why couldn’t he be my brother?” I grumble. “I’ll ask him. I’m tempted to figure out who makes them and offer them a permanent job here. I kept one of the samples they sent. It called to me in a way the others, even the similar designs, didn’t.”

  “You know that’s not how it works. People must be vetted first.”

  “I do. Although, a few are retiring soon and a lot of their kids aren’t staying. It’s something I’m mentioning at the meeting tonight,” I state, adding it on my to-do list.

  “What was all that arguing about earlier? I know tensions are always high this time of year, but it seemed more heated.”

  I roll my eyes at the mention of my infantile brother, telling her, “Just Joe being Joe. He bet that he’s taking over this year. That will never happen, so I agreed.”

  Her expression tells me I’ve upset her. She loves us equally and continually urges us to end this feud. “Brandie, what exactly did you wager?” Her concern turns to stern disapproval when I bite my lip. It sounds a lot worse to someone who doesn’t understand how much we don’t get along. “I’m not asking again.”

  “If he’s right, I have no say on how he moves forward. If I am, he leaves for a year.”

  “How could you? Neither option is good. Stop being so hard on him. He’s bright and his views are simply different than yours. It’s hard living in your shadow and the thought of sending him away is very upsetting. We already lost Ron, and frankly, that had a lot to do with you two.” Shocked at what she’s insinuating, I ask her what she means. “Ron didn’t want to be in the middle of you two fighting over this place. That’s why he decided to leave and get some time away from this family, too. You have to stop arguing. Your dad has an ulcer, and needs to relax, not put up with your bickering.”

  Feeling ashamed and indignant at being called out, I leave. I’ll talk to Joe and figure out how we can find common ground. Being twins has to count for something, right? I can’t help but wonder one thing, though.

  Do they all find me unbearable?

  “PLEASE LOWER YOUR VOICES. Gregory is coming and I rather we not stress him out today,” mom tells us and the room quiets to whispers. Everyone loves my dad and has been concerned about his health. He’s a strong man, but there has been a noticeable decline.

  “Baby, are you making excuses for me?” He asks, joining us and taking my mom in his arms before kissing her. Their love always makes me hope for one just as strong.

  When they finally break apart, you can see their adoration for each other. “I prefer to call it looking out for you, Mr. Claus. Have to take care of the old man.” This earns her a small tap on her ass while he whispers in her ear, causing a blush to cover her cheeks. Lord help us all.

  “Now that we’re all here, I want to talk about a few things. This year there’s a high demand for electronics, so we will be opening up a larger part of the workshop for that.”

  Joe, Mr. High Tech, is beaming with excitement and I roll my eyes. Raising my hand, I see my dad motion me to wait a bit. I do as I’m told, unlike my brother who apparently needs to get his two cents in before me.

  “Dad, if I may say so, I think that’s a fantastic idea. I mean, the manual stuff is great, but we need to start creating more gadgets. And since I have everyone’s attention, I think this is a great time to announce I’m doing the toy run this year.”

  Dad glances at me, the guilt clearly reflected in his gaze. This can’t be happening. Joe is sporting his smirk as he mouths an inaudible checkmate my way, and unable to hold back any longer, I lose my cool. “You asshole! You tricked me! I refuse to accept this because you don’t fucking deserve it.” I slam my hands on the table causing it to shake and more than one cup of coffee to spill.

  “Brandie! Please, this is not the time nor place. We’ll sit down and talk as a family after the meeting,” mom suggests, trying to calm the situation, but it’s not possible. I want to wipe that stupid smile off his face.

  “You made that bet knowing you’d already won. When was all this decided? While I was taking care of everything?” I ask my parents accusingly.

  “Meeting adjourned. I need to have a word with my children,” mom declares, sending everyone away. When they’re gone, I see dad slump in his chair, obviously exhausted.

  “I just don’t know what to do with you two anymore. You’re going to fight no matter what. I just wish Ron was here to take over, but I can’t blame him for going. He loves you both as much as I do, and he hated seeing you like this. However, the future must be decided. I want, need, to retire. Your mom and I have plans.”

  “It’s been settled. Miss Uptight needs to get over it. You already said I’d be in control and Brandie can’t say anything about it,” he quips, knowing I never renege on my word.

  “You’ve always been a jackass, and now you just march in like you own it after I’ve worked my butt off. You don’t deserve it!”

  “Too bad. Everyone knows it wasn’t going to you. Did you forget that fact? Dad, tell her the truth. Tradition says it goes to the firstborn son, and since he doesn’t want it, I’m next. After all these years of sucking up, you finally get brought down a notch or two. No more perfect Christmas Angel Brandie.” Knowing and seeing how things will be are two different things. I don’t want to be Santa, but I always figured Ron would be in charge. I never thought I’d be forced to work for Joe. Ron would at least treat me as an equal.

  “Is it true?” I ask dad and mom, both looking uncomfortable at being put in this position.

  “Darling, you know the doctor told me to take it easy, and Joe is next in line with Ron gone. If that means you have to follow him, I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be. I can’t delay this any longer.”

  Angrier than I’ve ever been in my life, I stomp out, yelling in frustration. I’m done. On the way to my room, I glance at the factory, seeing the dolls and toys made with such care. As the realization sinks in that Joe wants to replace them with mind-numbing phones and stupid tablets, I admit to myself I won’t be able to witness it.

  “Wait up, child,” Molly says, but I can’t face her right now. I refuse to let him ruin my memories of this place, which means I only have one option. I run up to my room and start packing my luggage, I throw a few things in, making sure to include my passport, then proceed to call Uncle AJ.

  When there’s a knock, so sure it’s one of my parents wanting to tell me I need to calm down, I holler, “I’m busy.”

  “It’s me.” I sigh, debating, but John’s been my only true friend all these years, neither of us feeling as if we have a life outside of here. He walks in, sees my expression, and wants to know, “What did the asshat do now?”

  “Dad put him in charge.”

  “Are you serious?” He must sense I could use a hug because he gives me one, which is a big deal as he doesn’t like being touched. “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m leaving. There’s nothing left for me here. Even your mom thinks I c
ause problems.”

  He pulls away, though he doesn’t let go of my arms, and disagrees, “There is no way she said that. She loves you.”

  “She didn’t have to, I read between the lines of what she did say. Besides, maybe this is the push I need to find a life away from here.”

  “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Well give me another squeeze and don’t be a stranger. You’re mad at them, not me.”

  “I’ll miss you so much,” I admit, kissing his cheek. “You’ll always be my best friend. I'll call as soon as I get there.” Seeing I only have ten minutes, I rush from the compound, knowing if I don’t make it, there won’t be another trolley for two days. I won’t survive.

  I run past the factory, avoiding eye contact, so they don’t attempt to stop me. I’m almost there when Joe sees me. He’s alone, meaning he can rub it in my face. But the joke’s on him, because I no longer care.

  “Throwing a tantrum?”

  Taking a deep breath, resigned to my loss, I pat his back and congratulate him. “Well played. You won. See you next Christmas.”

  “Wait, what? You can’t be serious.”

  “Don’t have it in me to see this become your vision. I’m leaving for a year instead.”

  “Mom and Dad will kill me. They already ripped me a new one for telling you that way.” I shrug, not caring. Being in charge means he has to deal with it himself. “I don’t know how to run this place. You have to stay and help me make the transition.”

  “Nope, all I have to do is eat, shit, and pay taxes.”

  “Come on.”

  This time, I’m the one smirking as the trolley arrives. “Checkmate,” is all I say as I board. The driver glances at me curiously, but remains quiet as I move to the back. As he pulls away, I close my eyes, not wanting to see what I’m leaving. From this day forward, I’m letting go of Christmas.