Free The Housewife Assassin's Killer Christmas Tips by Josie Brown Page B

commission for all the prime-time sugar fixes.
    I’m almost afraid to ask, but I have to. “Ryan, what about me?”
    He shrugs. “Just sit tight for now. I’m sure something will come up.”
    He’s right. It always does.
    In our line of work, that’s not necessarily a good thing.
     

     
    Last night was Jack’s seventh on the night shift.
    The bad news: we’ve put off decorating our Christmas tree until this assignment is over.
    The really bad news: Of the fifty-six cargo hulls listed as containing toys inspected by Jack and Abu, none have carried the Libyan arsenal.
    Everyone at Acme is getting antsy.
    The only thing good that has come out of this assignment is that Jack and I get to loll around in bed all day. Half the time Jack is sleeping while I putter around the house. But when he wakes up, the fun begins. Afternoon delight may be its one and only benefit, but it’s a good one.
    Until, like now, it’s time to pick Trisha up from school.
    As I leap out of bed, the sheet goes with me. It’s obvious to both of us that Jack is not finished with me. He looks me over with that slow, sly grin of his. “What’s the rush? Come back to bed.”
    “I can’t. Kindergarten lets out in forty-five minutes.” I smile down at him. “That barely leaves me time for a shower, and certainly no time for what you’ve got in mind.”
    “I can be quick.”
    I can’t help but snicker. “What’s the fun in that?”
    He shrugs. I’ve got him there.
    I rummage through the sheet for my panties. “And by the way, Hayley is dropping Jeff here after basketball practice. I’m taking Trisha to the mall after school.”
    “Which one this time?”
    “The Grove. The Santa there has won awards for his authenticity.”
    “Donna, enough already! Get it through that thick, albeit pretty, skull of yours. Trisha has quit believing.”
    “She’s too young to quit anything, let alone Santa. What’s next, ballet? Will she be giving up pink tutus? Do you see where this is leading?” Yes, I’m hyperventilating now.
    He shakes his head in disbelief. “Why can’t you let it go?”
    “Because she’s not even six yet! And because life is too short! And because… well, just because—”
    By now I’m sobbing too hard to continue.
    He shushes me, pulls me down into the bed, and cradles me in his arms. “Because she’s the last of your children who might still believe.”
    I can’t speak, but I can nod. Yes, of course he’s right. She’s my baby. When she no longer buys into the myth, I’ll have to accept that her innocence is gone too.
    I’ve seen what takes its place. Doubt. Distrust. Fear.
    I never want my children to be afraid of anything.
    “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the right guy in a red suit and beard will convince her that this is a magical time of year. So okay, take off with her. And don’t worry about Mary. She and I already have plans to hang out together.”
    I know he’s just saying this to make me feel better. Well, it’s working. To show my appreciation, I stroke his two o’clock shadow. “Lately, you two have been thick as thieves. What’s this surprise you’re plotting?”
    “We’ve got the perfect plan to offset Trevor’s infatuation with you. Give us another week, and it’ll be a thing of the past.”
    “The sooner the better. Nothing I say convinces her I’m not trying to hone in on her boyfriend.”
    “I think she’s finally coming to that conclusion.” His smile promises some silly secret. “Trust me.”
    “I always do.” I follow this declaration with a laugh, but even to me, it sounds as hollow as a ghost.
    Valentina is the apparition who stands between us.
    I jump up out of bed and head for the shower, where I’ll wash off the dampness of our lust, and the residue of my lingering doubts about him. Had I known about his relationship with Valentina from the beginning, would I still feel this way?
    At this point, I’ll never know. Once burned, twice shy.
    He may want to blame