Spy Ski School (14 page)

I wondered if he was simply protecting Jessica by trying to keep everyone away from her, or if he had actually grown more suspicious of me that day. Either way, he certainly wasn't happy to have me around.

I was also worried about Mike's impending arrival. There were so many ways he could blow my cover: calling me by my real last name, for example, or mentioning there were strange things going on at my school—or deciding to once again joke that I was training to be a spy. Erica was unfazed by this, however, believing that she could handle Mike and lure him away from Jessica before he screwed anything up.

The biggest cause of tension, however, was Erica herself. Jessica was obviously angry at her for crashing our party. Thus, instead of being her normal, cheerful self, Jessica was now dour and gloomy, taking every opportunity to subtly let Erica know she wasn't wanted there, which forced Erica to act staggeringly oblivious.

“Mmmmmmm!” Erica exclaimed, sipping her hot chocolate and rubbing her stomach. “That is yummy in my tummy! It was soooo nice of you to invite me along!”

“I didn't,” Jessica said coldly.

Erica giggled in response to this, like it had been a joke. “You're so funny! Is everyone in China as funny as you?”

Jessica glanced toward Dane. It seemed to me that she was considering the manners of simply having her bodyguard toss Erica out of the restaurant.

Before this could happen, there was a commotion by one of the doors. I could hear Mike trying to talk his way past the bodyguard stationed there. “I swear, I've been invited. A girl who's staying here asked me to come over after skiing. Her name's Jessica.”

Jessica's foul mood immediately lifted. She lit up, thrilled that Mike had finally shown. “It's okay, Zhou!” she yelled to the bodyguard. “He's with me! Let him in!”

The bodyguard grudgingly stepped aside. Mike slipped through the door, red-faced from the cold. “Hey!” he called to us, then paused to look around the empty restaurant, confused. “Is this place even open?”

“Just for us,” Jessica replied proudly.

“Really?” Mike seemed like he was about to ask
why
this was the case, but then he spotted Erica with us. Her presence immediately derailed his train of thought. Attracted to her, he flashed his standard wolfish grin—which Jessica didn't appreciate—and said, “I didn't realize there were going to be four of us. Hi, I'm Mike. Ben's best friend.”

“I'm Sasha,” said Erica.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Mike said suavely. Just as Erica had predicted, he didn't recognize her. Even so, I was thankful Erica was using an alias. Mike might not have known exactly what Erica Hale looked like, but he certainly knew her name, as I had told him Erica was my girlfriend. To make things worse, I had kept that lie going for months, until finally claiming we'd broken up. Erica had found out all about it, of course, which was embarrassing enough. But having Mike put everything together would have been deadly.

Erica went right to work flirting with him, wanting to get him away from Jessica as quickly as possible. To this end, I had unwillingly briefed her on a few things that would pique Mike's interest, like his favorite movies, video games, and hobbies—and how he liked girls who were really good at sports—although Erica had insisted that she could probably get by with the basics from Flirtation 101. Like simply batting her eyes.

She did this now, and Mike was drawn toward her like a moth to a porch light.

“I'm in ski school with Jessica and Ben,” she said, flipping her hair for good measure.

“Cool,” Mike said. “Where are you from?”

“Baltimore,” Erica replied.

Mike's smile grew. “Hey! Ben and I are from outside DC! We're not too far from you.”

“I know,” Erica purred. “Not even an hour apart.”

I could already see Mike doing the math in his head. Jessica was attractive, but she was from China. Erica was
really
attractive and lived much closer, which gave her an edge.

Jessica seemed to be doing the math as well. She quickly tried to shift things in her favor. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “Or to eat?”

The waitress rushed to Mike's side, relieved to finally have something to do. “A hot chocolate, perhaps?” she asked. “Or a sandwich? Or pasta? Or a burger?”

“You can have anything you want,” Jessica offered. “My father's paying.”

“That's not necessary,” Mike said graciously. “I can cover myself.”

“No, I insist,” Jessica said. “Trust me, Daddy can afford it.” She waved a hand to the empty restaurant.

Mike shifted his attention from Erica to Jessica, intrigued. “Does your father own this hotel?”

“No,” Jessica said. “But he's renting the whole place out for the week.”

“He's renting the entire hotel?” Mike echoed. “Just for your family?”

“Yes,” Jessica replied proudly.

Mike whistled, then warily scrutinized the bodyguards
around the room. “What exactly does your father do?” he asked.

I shot a glance at Erica, intrigued. It had never occurred to me that Mike might actually
help
us interrogate Jessica about her father.

“He's in business,” Jessica said coyly.

“My dad's in business too,” Mike said, “but he's not renting out entire hotels in Vail. What's your dad do, own companies or something?”

“Yeah,” Erica chimed in. “How
does
he afford this whole place?”

At the next table, Dane Brammage stiffened, not liking where this conversation was going. Jessica didn't seem to notice. She was too happy to have Mike's attention again. “He does own a few companies in China.”

“Like what?” Mike asked.

“I don't know,” Jessica admitted, and it sounded like the truth. Given that she was trying to impress Mike, it seemed she would have told him if she'd known.

“You don't know what companies your father owns?” Erica taunted.

Jessica shrugged. “He doesn't like to talk about work much. Whenever I ask him about it, he's quiet as a louse.”

Mike looked at me, confused by this.

“I think you mean ‘quiet as a mouse,' ” I told Jessica.

“That's the expression?” Jessica asked. “Really? Because lice are really quiet. They don't even have vocal cords. While mice are all squeaky.”

Realizing we'd gotten off track, Erica tried to switch things back to Leo Shang. “If you don't know what companies your father owns, then maybe he
does
own this hotel. Is that why you're here?”

Jessica shook her head. “I think Daddy would have told me if he owned this place. And he
swore
he wasn't going to do any business this vacation. He works so much, I almost never get to see him. We're just here to go skiing.”

“Only you and your dad?” Mike asked. “Or is there other family here too?”

“No, it's just me and Daddy,” Jessica said. “I'm the only child—and my mother doesn't like the cold. She went to our island instead.”

“Your family has a whole island?” I asked, stunned. It was off topic, but I couldn't help myself. “Where?”

Jessica actually had to think about this a while before answering. “Fiji, maybe? Somewhere warm.”

“So where's your dad now, then?” Erica asked, trying to get the conversation back to Leo once again.

“He went helicopter skiing today,” Jessica replied.

“No way!” Mike gasped. “That's supposed to be awesome.”

“I know,” Jessica agreed. “Daddy says that if I get good
enough over the next few days, he'll take me. Maybe he could take me and a friend.” She looked at Mike meaningfully.

I could now see Mike mentally recalculating. An exceptionally rich attractive girl from China who could take him helicopter skiing was slightly better than an attractive girl from Baltimore.

Erica realized she was losing her edge, so she decided to shift the conversation—even if it meant getting off the subject of Leo Shang. “So, Mike, Ben says you're a really good skier.”

“I'm okay,” Mike said, in the exact same fake-humble way he had in the gondola that morning.

“Where'd you ski today?” Erica asked, shifting closer to Mike. She did it subtly, though, so that it didn't appear she was throwing herself at him.

“In the back bowls,” Mike replied. “There was tons of untracked snow. It was pretty epic back there.”

“Speaking of epic,” Jessica interjected, not liking the attention Erica was getting, “Sasha had an epic wipeout today.”

“Oh, that's not a big deal,” Mike said. “Everyone wipes out when they first start skiing.”

“Not like this,” Jessica pressed. “This was a mega-wipeout. She took out everyone on an entire run.”

Mike shrugged. “I've had worse. Once, on a massive
powder day, I biffed a jump and ended up buried in the snow all the way to my knees.”

“That's not so bad,” Erica said.

“Well, I'd landed headfirst,” Mike explained. Then he broke into laughter.

Erica laughed too. “Oh, you're hilarious!” she said. “I like you.”

Jessica joined in the laughter as well, not wanting to be left out, though it didn't sound very natural.

“I really have wiped out plenty,” Mike told Erica reassuringly. “It's part of skiing. It's good that you didn't let it discourage you.”

“Thanks,” Erica said, looking truly flattered by this compliment. “I guess I thought it was going to be more like waterskiing. I'm pretty good at that.”

“Really?” Mike asked, suddenly growing more intrigued. “Do you go a lot?”

“All the time,” Erica said. “My folks have a vacation house on Chesapeake Bay. It's not far from DC. We have a couple ski boats out there—and some Jet Skis, too.” This was all a lie. Erica was actually relying on my intel now to win Mike over; I'd told her that he loved waterskiing. It worked like a charm, quickly ramping up his interest in her.

“No kidding?” Mike was once again recalculating. An attractive girl with a vacation house and Jet Skis close to
where he lived was better than an extremely wealthy rich girl who lived halfway around the world from him.

Erica scooted a little closer to Mike. “I usually don't have any problem with sports. I can ride a horse and throw a baseball and sink a layup and all that stuff. So I guess I figured it'd be easy to take up skiing. But it's not. I'll get the hang of it, though.”

“I'm sure you will,” Mike said. I could see he was starting to fall for Erica. All the references she'd just made to being good at sports had done the trick.

“Know what I'm
really
good at?” Erica asked. “Ice-skating! Does anyone want to go ice-skating?”

“I'd love to!” Mike said.

“Great!” Erica sprang to her feet and grabbed her coat.

“I thought we were all going to have hot chocolate together,” Jessica insisted. She seemed stunned that Mike had been won over so quickly. “They make a really good hot chocolate here. With whipped cream and little chocolate shavings on top.”

Mike shrugged. “I'm not that into chocolate. And it's kind of weird being all by ourselves in here. Why don't you guys come with us?” He gave me a sly wink, then nodded toward Jessica, indicating I should make a move with her.

“You know what'd be more fun?” Jessica asked. “We could all go up to my suite! There's a private Jacuzzi right out on the balcony up there!”

At the mention of this, Dane stiffened, not liking the idea of us visiting the suite at all.

Mike glanced his way, seeming to sense this. “I don't have a bathing suit,” he said.

“You could borrow one of my dad's,” Jessica said.

Mike made a face, disturbed by the thought of wearing a strange man's clothes. “Er . . . thanks,” he said, “but I think we're gonna skate.”

Erica had already slipped her coat on. “See you guys tomorrow!” she told us, and then she and Mike hurried out the door.

I watched them go, trying not to be overwhelmed by jealousy. There were only three days until Operation Golden Fist. I had a job to do and, as Erica had pointed out, I couldn't let emotion get in the way of it. I returned my attention to Jessica, expecting her to be feeling rejected and vulnerable, like Zoe had predicted.

She wasn't. Instead, she was really, really angry. “You should probably go,” she told me, and then stormed out of the restaurant.

“Wait!” I yelled after her, leaping off the couch. Dane snapped out of his seat, trying to block me, but I slipped past him and chased after Jessica. “I thought we were going to use your Jacuzzi. . . .”

“I don't feel like it anymore.” Jessica didn't even look
back at me as she spoke. She continued on into a hallway where the hotel elevators were.

Dane lumbered down the hall behind me. He was so big, I didn't even have to look back at him. I could feel his presence.

At the far end of the hall, beyond Jessica, was the hotel lobby. To my surprise, Leo Shang was coming through the doors. He was back from helicopter skiing. Through the windows behind him, I could see his caravan of car-tanks parked in the roundabout. Leo himself was surrounded by a cluster of bodyguards. All of them appeared unhappy to see me in the hotel—although none seemed as unhappy as Leo Shang himself.

Everything around me was indicating I should leave, but I felt I still had to make one last attempt to get back into Jessica's good graces. It wasn't going to be easy, though; she was so angry, she hadn't even noticed her father yet.

“I don't understand,” I told her. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You invited
her
,” Jessica spat.

“No, I didn't! She invited herself  !”

“Which she wouldn't have done if you hadn't told her what we were doing. You might as well have given her an engraved invitation.” Jessica stabbed the button for the elevator.