Page 3 of Barbi and the Villain

“She’s my little bodyguard,” I joke, though it’s not entirely inaccurate. Once, I was out shopping with her and someone tried to steal my purse. PomPom might be small, but she’s got the vigor of a dog double her size. She spotted the suspicious man the moment he had his hand on my bag. Before he could pull on it, she’d jumped on him, lodging her teeth in his crotch—not that I taught her that.

The irony of it? I’d had to take a trip to the police station because the man had accused me and my dog of assault. The gall on some people. I should have let PomPom tear out a testicle—would have served the asshole right.

“You’re here early. The scene doesn’t start until later, no?” Sarah asks.

“I want to make sure everything is in order. Did you hear which scene we’re doing?” I add enthusiastically.

She shakes her head.

“It’s from the sixth book, the battle between Sir Damien and the Dark One.”

“Oh my. That’s right before Sir Damien proposes to Lady Jocelyn, isn’t it?”

I nod effusively.

“Who’s playing Sir Damien this year?” she asks.

“His name is Brandon and he’s one of Clarice’s friends. I don’t know him too well, but he looks the part.”

Her eyes sparkle suggestively.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” She wiggles her brows.

My cheeks heat up.

“No. Of course not. It’s just acting.” I shrug.

“Hmm…” she hums, unconvinced. It’s not unusual for scene partners to end up dating. It happened to her and her boyfriend last year. But just because she was lucky, doesn’t mean I am, too.

“It is! Besides, there’s only a hug at the end of the proposal. We’re not doing the kiss.”

“If you say so…” She smiles as she makes to leave. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She winks at me.

“I swear! There’s nothing more to it!” I call out, embarrassed.

People stare at me, which prompts PomPom to bare her teeth at them and hiss.

“Shh, baby. It’s fine,” I whisper. “Let’s go to our corner.”

I cross the distance to the spot we’d been assigned for the scene. A ruffle of pink catches my eye—anything that’s pink usually does. But as I get a better look, I blink slowly.

Clarice is wearing the same outfit I am—Lady Jocelyn’s costume. She’s standing between Brandon’s open legs as they’re kissing passionately.

Someone clears their throat and they stop, spotting me.

“Barbara.” She smiles sweetly at me.

“What’s the meaning of this?” I ask as I point to her costume. I couldn’t care less what she does with Brandon. But I do take an issue with her dress—even the shoes are the same!

“We’ve decided to change some things for the scene,” she adds. Brandon wraps his arms around her in silent support.

“I don’t remember being asked about any changes.” I narrow my eyes at her.

“That’s because we’ve all decided that I would make a better Lady Jocelyn.”

I turn to look around. All the other people are silent, their heads bent low.

“Mona?” I ask my friend, who averts her gaze. “Lily?” She doesn’t answer either.

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