A Spy Like Me

by Laura Pauling

  Ten

  “Dad?” I tucked the same piece of hair behind my ears over and over because it wouldn’t stay in place. “Where’s Aimee?”

  The only evidence he’d heard me was the higher pitch of his voice and the way his fingers gripped the pencil. He whispered to Gray. Frankie’s legs twitched like he wanted to bolt and avoid the confrontation.

  Basically, Dad ignored me.

  “Except for that one incident, we got mostly positive feedback.” He glanced over his notes. “I’ll be working on a new route. There are many terrific tourist sites in Paris. In no time at all, we’ll have a new mission mapped out and ready to go.”

  I ducked my head in epic shame, biding my time as Dad closed. I tried not to think about Aimee. Maybe she had to run errands. Maybe she got the stomach bug. There were lots of perfectly good reasons for her absence.

  “Thanks, everyone,” Dad concluded. “Go home and relax. It’s been a long day.”

  The staff gathered their stuff and filed out. Gray nodded to me. Nancy squeezed my shoulder, and Frankie winked at me.

  “Good luck,” he whispered.

  Not a good sign. Maybe I’d gotten Aimee fired, too? That was why Nancy looked at me like I’d have to live with the guilt. I held the door and said goodbye, ignoring the increased pulse thrumming through my veins.

  Finally, they were gone. Our apartment felt huge. Nowhere to hide. No cracks to slip into and disappear for a while, like a month or two. I decided to start first.

  “I can explain. Just give me a chance.”

  “Savvy.” Dad’s voice sounded a bit impatient.

  “No, really. I was doing great at the Louvre and then Malcolm messed up everything. He got me kicked out.”

  “Did you or did you not bring candy into the Louvre?”

  I couldn’t lie my way out of this one. “Kind of.”

  He tilted his head to the side.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose. And no one would’ve known if it hadn’t been for Malcolm.”

  Dad sighed in exasperation. “Malcolm asked to observe Spy Games before officially applying for a job. I told him to shadow you!”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” This would’ve changed everything.

  “I tried. You ran out of the debriefing so fast I didn’t have a chance. And then you must’ve had your phone turned off.”

  “Oh.”

  “We had a strict contract with the museum. We were only allowed to use it for Spy Games as long as we didn’t cause any trouble.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “And spilling candy constitutes trouble?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. We’ve broken the contract.”