“Um…” Gabby could barely remember anything besides her immediate disaster—she was completely alone on her first day of undercover work. Not that Fran could help her with that.
“I’m fine.” She touched her nose. Fran was going to notice, and her cover would be blown.
“You know how Kramer is,” Fran said. “He wants the best from everyone all the time.”
Gabby nodded. So did the EOD. Wearing a fake nose was as bad as trying to keep her bra stuffed as a preteen, except this time it wasn’t just her dignity at stake.
“I’d be happy to help with whatever he needs from you. Just for today.”
“Um, just some party stuff.” Gabby took a breath and talked herself down. This was not middle school. She just lost a fake nose and earpiece. All was not lost—yet.
“A party?” Fran perked up. “Please say I can help!” Fran looked genuinely thrilled. “What are you thinking for entertainment? We could get that jazz trio, you know the one that plays for open mic night at happy hour across the street. Actually, we could do a whole jazz theme.” She looked up at Gabby expectantly.
“That’s better than anything I’ve thought of yet, unless everyone is into Sky Zone.” Gabby laughed, but Fran didn’t join in.
“Sky Zone? Is that like a private jet thing?”
Fran must be thinking of the Delta Sky Club lounge, and not the trampoline park slash arcade filled with screaming ten-year-olds, a place you wanted to wear socks so you didn’t get foot fungus.
“That could work. Maybe we could host it out at that restaurant at the private airport. Private jets would be a great theme. That’s what we’re all shooting for, right?” Fran wagged a finger at her. “And I thought you weren’t on your game today.”
What kind of person with a child had never heard of Sky Zone?
Fran started to say something else but stopped and frowned at Gabby.
Gabby’s heart dropped to her stomach. She’d been found out. It was all over.
With a startled gasp, Fran covered her mouth.
At least if it all went to hell now, she could just go home. A glance at her watch showed she’d be able to pick up the kids. She could text Sienna’s mom and Phil and say she didn’t need them. Spying just hadn’t worked out, which really wasn’t a big surprise.
With a self-satisfied smile, Fran announced, “I know what’s different.”
Gabby waited for Fran to unmask her like theScooby-Doogang.You aren’t Camille. You are an imposter from the Elite Operatives Department impersonating Darcy Dagger!
“You’ve had a nose job,” Fran exclaimed. “I don’t know why it took me this long to notice.”
A high-pitched laugh escaped Gabby like air leaking from a balloon. “You got it, Fran.”
Five minutes later, she sat down at her desk and wrung her hands. She had no earpiece and Kramer had just asked her to make an Excel spreadsheet.
Her phone dinged with a text from Markus.R u ok?
No. They asked me to make a spreadsheet.
Lol. But r u safe?
Yes.
What about the prosthetic?
Problem solved. Told Fran I had a nose job.
Really?
I’m fine. More worried about the spreadsheet atm.
Lol. Hang tight.
