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“Are you Bonnie?” I ask.

“In the flesh.” She smiles widely as she looks me up and down. “And who are you supposed to be?”

Hilarious.

I slide the rewrapped Santa key chain over to her on the glass counter. “This is for you. I’m here for a gift for Santa Claus.”

Without any further questions, Bonnie snorts a laugh and grabs the box. “Give me a sec.” She moves to a different counter and searches through the shelves.

I guess she trusts me because who else would show up in a Santa outfit and ask for the right present. It’s a funny thing, trust. As undercover agents, we have to make people believe we are who we are. Trust that what we’re saying and how we’re acting is truthful, even when it’s a bald-faced lie. As agents, we rely on one another. Trust each other to do the right thing. Trust ourselves to do the right thing.

But trust is delicate. Even when you’ve been unwavering, it can disappear in an instant. It’s a breakable belief.

I pull out my phone and hold it against my ear to make it appear as though I’m taking a call. I turn away from Bonnie and the security guard and say into my microphone to Scarlett in a low voice, “I’m sorry about Frosty. Your trust should’ve never been taken for granted.”

I hate that so soon after me, Frosty broke her heart, betrayed her trust, and made her doubt herself. If I could melt him all over again, I would.

“I was too—”

“You’re not too anything,” I say, peering through the glass window to where she’s standing. She’s looking back at me. I can’t take back the times I’ve said it before, but I can hopefully make myself clear now. “You never have been.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. “I appreciate that, Lambros, but I really was. I should’ve expected the relationship to be short-lived.”

“It’s his loss.” Him and me both.

She laughs once and glances away. “I don’t know about that. I was the one getting way more out of it.”

“Doubtful.” I step closer to the nearest case, a row of diamond wedding bands gleaming under thick glass. “Look, Payne, you’re a catch. If he can’t see that, he’s an idiot. What’s so funny? I’m being serious.”

“Well, technically I’m the one who caught him. I’m sure he’s thrilled to be free.”

Caught him? Free? “Payne… who’s Frosty?”

“An informant who got away,” she says. “He was critical to catching someone else, and I agreed to let him go out of the secured perimeter range to meet with someone from out of the country. He was a flight risk, but our working relationship had been so solid. His intel was always good. They got into a car waiting for them beyond our agreed-upon safe zone, and poof! Gone. They shook us and we lost them and it’s why I’ve been desk riding for half a year. I really messed up.”

It makes so much more sense now why Scarlett’s been playing it safe. Being extra careful.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s really rough.” Now I wish my theory had been right. It’d be the lesser of two evils.

“Well, it was my own fault,” she says. “I was the case agent on the op since I wasn’t cleared for fieldwork given, you know.” Without realizing it, she reaches for her shoulder. “Wait… who did you think Frosty was?”

It feels ridiculous to even say now. “An ex-boyfriend.”

“Lambros!”

“What? Your Christmas code was confusing!”

“Why would I talk to you about an ex-boyfriend?” she asks. It’s a great question. I had the exact same one.

I shrug toward a giddy couple who’s come in to look at the wedding bands. “I don’t know, to make me jealous?”

“That would make you jealous?” Scarlett asks, half amusement, half genuine curiosity in her voice.

No, I don’t care what you do. I’m not the jealous type. I was the one who pushed you away.

I lower my voice and say, “You know it would.”

“Lambros, I—”