Hot Toy Read Online Free PDF Page A

left.
    *   *   *
    Fifteen minutes later, Trudy stood on the street corner, juggling her three shopping bags and signaling awkwardly for a cab. There was one around the corner that was stubbornly off duty, and every other one that went by had people in the backseat. They were probably just circling the block to annoy her. She shifted the bags again, her feet aching as the cold from the concrete permeated the thin soles of her boots, trying to think of a way to get a Mac Two short of breaking into Evil Nemesis Brandon’s house and stealing his.
    It started to snow.
    If I had some matches, I could strike them all and bask in the glow, Trudy thought, and then a cab pulled up in front of her and Reese opened the door.
    â€œI got a lead on this year’s MacGuffins,” he said as he got out to stand in front of her. “Get in and we’ll go get them.”
    Trudy gaped at him. “You’re kidding.”
    â€œNo. I know this guy.”
    Trudy frowned at him in disbelief. “You know this guy. I’ve been to every toy store in town, but you know this guy.”
    â€œNot a toy store. A warehouse.”
    â€œA warehouse. No, thank you.” Trudy reached around him to signal for another cab, which passed her by, its tires crunching in the snow. She craned her neck to see around the corner, but the cab that had been there was gone. The streets were emptying out, stores starting to close. I am so screwed, she thought.
    â€œOh, come on.” Reese held the cab door open for her and gestured her in. “This guy called around and found out about this warehouse where they got a shipment in, but the delivery people didn’t come back for them. He says there are dozens of them there.” Reese smiled at her, surfer cute. “So the warehouse guys are selling them out the back door. We’re gonna pay through the nose, but hey, they’ve got Mac Twos.”
    Trudy put her hand down and tried to be practical—getting in a cab and going to a warehouse with a virtual stranger would be stupid even if he had been her father’s research assistant—but the snow was falling faster, and the bags weren’t getting any lighter, and the stores were closing, and Leroy still didn’t have a MacGuffin. “My feet hurt.”
    Reese gestured to the cab again. “Sit.”
    Trudy sat down sideways on the backseat with her feet on the curb, balancing her three bags on her lap. “A warehouse.”
    â€œWith a big shipment of Mac Twos.” Reese looked down at her, his patience obviously wearing thin. “And I’m betting we’re not the only ones who know about it, so we should get a move on.”
    Trudy put her forehead on her bags. The cab radio was playing some cheerful rap lite that Trudy liked until she heard the singer say, “Santa Baby.”
    Reese stepped closer, looming over her. “Scoot over so I can get in.”
    Trudy lifted her head. “For all I know you’re a rapist and a murderer.”
    â€œHey.” Reese sounded wounded although he looked as clueless as ever.
    â€œIt’s nothing personal. Ted Bundy was a very attractive man.”
    â€œOh, come on. I worked for your dad. You’re in a cab. You can tell the driver to wait while we go inside.”
    A Mac Two. It was too good to be true. Much like Reese the surfer boy hitting on an older college librarian was too good to be true. And he had a cab, too. It strained belief, something she was pretty weak in to begin with. “How did you get a cab?”
    â€œI held out my hand and it pulled up.” Reese sounded exasperated. “Look, if you don’t want to go, I do. In or out.”
    â€œOh, just hell,” Trudy said.
    Reese shook his head and went around to the street side of the cab and got in. “Make up your mind, Trudy,” he said from behind her as he closed his door. “It’s Christmas Eve and it’s getting later