It was with great hesitation that I stepped out of the dressing room and showed the others.
They burst into laughter.
Jack grabbed his phone and snapped a few pictures.
I tried to block the lens with my hand. "No pictures."
He kept snapping.
I chased after him and tried to grab the phone.
He yanked the device away and took off running through the rows of costumes, his Santa boots smacking against the concrete floor.
"I think it looks great," Nicolette said. "The kids are going to love it."
I grimaced at her, then stepped in front of the full-length mirror and looked at myself. The costume had silly green pointy shoes with bells on them, yellow tights, a green jacket, and a green tasseled cap. I looked absolutely ridiculous.
Jack peered around the corner, laughing, and approached with caution.
"If that gets posted online, I swear to God…"
He raised his hands innocently.
"Yeah, you better be afraid," I said.
"I think it looks authentic. You look totally elf-like."
"Ears. You need ears," Nicolette said. "I've got just the thing."
She darted away and returned a moment later, handing me prosthetic ears that could be glued on. She sized us both up. "You two look great. How does everything fit?"
"It's a little snug here and there," I said.
"Well, you’re only going to be wearing these for a few hours. I think you'll live. Besides, that's the biggest-sized tights I could find.
Jack smiled, admiring his jolly self in the mirror. With a flowing white wig and fake beard, he could reasonably pass for Santa.
"Nicolette, you’ve outdone yourself,” he praised. “I can't thank you enough."
"Anything for you, JD. It's for a good cause."
Jack smiled. "You're the best."
"Thank you," I said to her.
"Don’t worry. You two will be great."
We thanked her again, and Jack gave her a little something for the effort, though she declined to take it.
He insisted.
We left and brought the costumes back to theAvventura, then set out to find Dr. Carlson.
His office was located in the Harborview Plaza on the fourth floor. The office was chic and classy with mint green walls, white rattan furniture, and coastal accents. Fashion magazines rested atop glass coffee tables. The air was filled with a breezy scent that masked the smell of wet dog. Several attractive women waited with their pets in the lounge. Large diamonds glimmered on perfectly manicured hands. Bodies sculpted by Pilates and hot yoga squeezed into tight leggings and sports bras. A flatscreen on the wall kept the expensive yappy dogs occupied.
I flashed my badge at the receptionist, and her eyes widened. "We need to have a word with Dr. Carlson.”
"He's extremely busy at the moment,” she stammered. “Can I tell him what this is regarding?"
