Page 60 of Hacking the Holidays
“Whatever you’re planning, it’s already a bad idea,” I said. “Sam will be onto you before you know it.”
“Onto me, underneath me, I’ll take him anyway I can get him,” she said. “I see nothing wrong withmy daughtersitting on Santa’s lap and posing for a photo.” She winked, then her gaze shifted over my shoulder. “And just so you know, he’s watching us.”
I spun on my heels and glanced toward the photo area.
Sam was standing in front of the elaborate throne set up, looking directly at us. Even from this distance, I could see the confusion on his face. The questions. He’d seen me talking to Barbie—seen the obvious tension between us, the familiarity of two people who clearly knew each other. Another crack in my carefully constructed cover.
“Great,” I muttered. “That’s just perfect.”
Beverly leaned in. “Better get your story straight, Mazini.”
She laughed and melted into the crowd, leaving me standing there with my heart hammering and my cover slipping further by the second.
I plastered on my brightest fake smile and waved at Samlike nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just been confronted by another federal agent who was here to finish the job I’d apparently failed at.
He waved back, but the confusion didn’t leave his face.
Get it together. You’re a professional.
I took a deep breath, yanked down my elf costume one more time, and headed toward the photo area.
Kids were already lining up, bouncing with excitement, their parents trying unsuccessfully to keep them corralled. The energy was infectious despite the knot of anxiety in my stomach.
I approached Sam as he settled onto his throne. “All set?”
“Ready as can be,” he said, wiggling his butt around to find the perfect spot, then added, “What did Beverly want? I’m surprised she even talked to you, considering you practically ripped off her head and fed it to her.”
I crossed my arms. “You should write soap operas. You’re fantastic at fabricating drama.”
Sam chuckled. “I will take that under consideration.” Luckily, he didn’t press the subject further and added, “Okay, let’s do this.”
Walking back to the front of the line, I raised my voice just enough to be heard over the chaos. “Okay, everyone! Santa is ready to meet all of you! We’re going to go one at a time, nice and orderly, and I will let you know when it’s your turn. Who’s excited to tell Santa what you want for Christmas and take a photo with him?”
A chorus of “ME!” erupted from the crowd.
I grinned despite the negative energy running through my body. “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s make some Christmas magic happen.”
After getting the first few parents in the line to sign the contact information form, I guided the first child to the stage, where Sam waited with that genuine smile that made even my cynical heart warm a little.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa boomed. “And who do we have here?”
“This is …” I glanced at my clipboard, “Paxon.”
“Paxon!” Sam’s eyes lit up like the boy was the most important person in the world. “Come on up here. Let’s hear what’s on your Christmas list.”
The little boy climbed onto Sam’s lap with the fearless enthusiasm only children possessed, immediately launching into his Christmas list with the rapid-fire delivery of an auctioneer.
“And a bike, and a new video game, and maybe a kitty if Mom says yes, and?—”
“Whoa, whoa!” Sam guffawed in a genuine tone. “That’s quite a list! Have you been a good boy this year?”
“The best!” the kid declared with absolute confidence.
“Excellent!” Santa said. “You know what they say—good boys get the best toys!”
The rhyme was silly, but Sam’s delivery made it endearing. It even made some parents smile.
After Paxon finished with Santa and took a photo, I handed him a candy cane as he climbed down.
