Reindeer Wars

By Liese Sherwood-Fabre

Brian is attracted to Tina's holiday spirit, but can this budding relationship survive their competition for their office's "most outrageous holiday sweater?"

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781483529578

Liese Sherwood-Fabre

Liese Sherwood-Fabre, a native of Texas, knew she was destined to write when she got an A+ in the second grade for her story about Dick, Jane, and Sally's ruined picnic. After obtaining her PhD from Indiana University, she joined the federal government and had the opportunity to work and live internationally for more than fifteen years-in Africa, Latin America, and Russia. Returning to the states, she seriously pursued her writing career and has published several pieces. Her debut novel Saving Hope, a thriller set in Russia was based, in part, from her observations while in that country. She has published a variety of fiction and non-fiction pieces, winning such awards as a nomination for the Pushcart Prize, first place in Chanticleer Book Reviews' Mystery/Thriller novel category, and a finalist for Silver Falchion Award for Best 2017 Non-Fiction Book.

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Reindeer Wars

by Liese Sherwood-Fabre

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Copyright

Also by Liese Sherwood-Fabre

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Reindeer Wars started out as an eight hundred-word short story, and I’m very grateful to several people for turning it into a novella. I want to thank Vicki Batman for her comments and suggestions on both versions, my editor Vickie Taylor, and the creative genius of Kathleen Baldwin who designed the cover. There’s no greater support for a book than this trio.

DEDICATION

In memory of Charles and Nova Sherwood.

For the love and support I always received.

Reindeer Wars

The cart Tina was pushing collided with something, and a humph burst from the other side. The rather precariously assembled mountain of old claim files wobbled, and those on the summit slid forward. Another yelp followed their descent.

What the—?

She peered around the still-teetering towers, but saw no one.

Why had Mr. Collins piled them so high?

The sound of paper shuffling rose from the other side of the cart. Her throat constricted, and she squeezed past the cart in the narrow passageway between the office cubicles to check out which employee she’d hit.

Please let it be Mr. Collins. He deserves it. Just don’t let it be—

Her stomach twisted into a knot. Of course it was Brian Foster. Who else?

The newest salesman at Judicious Insurance crouched on the floor, rubbing his thigh with one hand and holding a file folder in the other. Papers littered the area around him.

Are you all right? she asked.

He squinted up at her. I think so.

Kneeling beside him, she gathered up the fallen documents and reached for the one he still held. I’m so sorry. Mr. Collins loaded the cart. I should’ve made two trips, but we only have one cart, and I didn’t have any place to put them because my desk is already full from the end of year re—

Mr. Collins? he asked, rising to his full height. He held out a hand and pulled her to her feet. You’re in claims, right? Tina Martins?

With a dip of her chin, she pulled her hand from his grasp and clutched the papers she still held to her chest. His hand had been warm and strong, and the power from his touch continued to surge through her body. I’ll…uh…let me pick up this mess, and I’ll get out of your way.

Unable to meet the man’s gaze, she bent over to retrieve the rest of the papers. He leaned over at the same time, and their heads met with a sharp crack.

Could this get any worse?

She met his gaze over the spilled papers, expecting an angry glare in return. Instead, the most beautiful pair of honey-tinted eyes gave her a wide stare.

Oh, God. I’ve given him a concussion.

Sorry to break up your little Monday morning tête-à-tête, a voice said over them, but some of us have work to do, and you’re blocking the aisle.

Without glancing up, she recognized the owner of the sarcastic remark. It had gotten worse. Jerry Simpson, the firm’s second-newest salesman, reminded her of a ferret. Maybe it was his nose—slightly pointed and always in other people’s business.

 She and Brian straightened. Before she could think