Page 59 of Hacking the Holidays
Almost.
I shrugged out of the long winter coat that was shielding everyone from having to look at my spectacle of an elf costume, then looked around for somewhere to stash it. A volunteer pointed to the coat check.
“Thanks,” I murmured, heading over to deposit my coat.
I weaved through the crowd, past the Christmas Crafts Zone, toward the Santa Stage, ready to wrangle kids. Sam would get into position soon, and I needed to?—
“Well, well, well. Look who’s playing dress-up.”
The sound of her voice made my stomach twist.
It was Ski Patrol Barbie.
She exited the gingerbread competition area, wearing anexpression that was equal parts amusement and irritation. She looked like she was dressed for another model shoot, once again opting for a skintight ski jumpsuit, although this time, she ditched solid white for maroon.
What really captured my attention, however, was the pint-sized accessory attached to her hand: a little girl, maybe six or seven, with a confused expression plastered on her face.
I blinked, my brain struggling to process what I was seeing. There was no way Babbs had a daughter. She had always been crystal clear about never wanting children. She’d said it repeatedly over the years, usually while making cutting remarks about other people’s “breeding choices.”
So who was this blonde girl in the velvet dress, and why was she holding Barbie’s hand? I had a feeling I would find out soon enough.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to hear.
“Nice to see you, too.” She crossed her arms, her smile tight as she inspected my costume. “Love the outfit, although I think you may have more success out on the street corner. How much are you getting per hour these days?”
“More than you can afford.” I stepped closer, my anger flaring hot. “Look—I already told Thorne I don’t need reinforcement. I have everything under control.”
“Do you? Really?” Barbie’s eyebrow arched. “You have zero evidence.”
“And you do?” I said. “That was a nice little stunt you pulled this morning at the library, and look where it got you. If you had just asked me, I would have told you that Sam’s computer has more security measures than the Pentagon.”
“I admit I came up short, but the difference is, I’m just getting started, whereas you are fizzling out.”
I took a breath, forcing myself not to react. Getting into it with Agent Babbs in the middle of a family Christmas event was exactly what we didn’t need, especially in front of the girl.
Speaking of whom …
“Where did you even get a kid?” I asked, changing tactics.
Barbie’s smile returned, smug. “She’s my daughter.”
“Right. And I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy.” I crouched down to the little girl’s level. “Hi there, sweetie. What’s your name?”
“Cassandra,” she said, her voice small and uncertain.
“That’s a beautiful name. And who is this lady with you?”
Cassandra glanced up at Agent Babbs, then back at me. “She’s my mom.”
“Wonderful!” I exclaimed with fake cheer, even as my stomach sank. The girl had been coached, clearly. “When did you meet her?”
“Today,” Cassandra said matter-of-factly.
I straightened, crossing my arms as I locked eyes with Babbs. “That’s what I thought.”
Barbie’s jaw tightened, her composed expressioncracking just slightly. She put her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder—possessive, controlling—and leaned down to whisper in the girl’s ear. “Remember what we talked about, honey. Don’t answer questions from anyone. Not even the weird elf lady.”
Cassandra nodded obediently, but I could see the confusion in her eyes. She had no idea what she’d been pulled into.
