Undercover In High Heels

wanted to. My body was moving all on its own as I marched straight toward the happy couple.

“You sonofabitch!” I yelled once I was in earshot.

Ramirez turned around, his dark eyebrows hunching together at the sight of me. Despite my anger, my hormones did that little happy sigh they always did when he was around. Ramirez had perfected the tall, dark, and dangerous look-his black hair just a little too long, his dark brown eyes just a little too hard, and a sleek panther tattooed on his arm, just a little too big to hide beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt. His tan skin was interrupted by a thin white scar running through his left eyebrow and a perpetual dusting of rugged stubble across his chin. The bad boy-slash-sex god effect of it all was almost enough to stop a girl in her tracks.

Almost.

“I can’t believe you blew me off for this!” I yelled, gesturing to his Amazon woman. She gave me a startled look, her eyes darting from side to side as if trying to figure out where I’d come from.

“Maddie, what are you doing here?” Ramirez asked, his eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.

“I could be asking the same question.” I poked a finger at Ramirez’s chest, coming up against his hard, six- day-a-week-at-the-gym pecs. “Who the hell do you think you are that you can lead me on, then just blow me off like this for another woman?”

“Maddie, ” Ramirez said, his voice low and commanding. “Go home. I’ll explain later.”

“Oh right! I’ll just go home and let you finish your date with Slutzilla here.” I was yelling loudly enough now that even over the pounding dance music, the couples at the adjacent tables were staring.

“Who is this?” Amazon’s eyes ping-ponged between Ramirez and me. “I told you to come alone.”

“Maddie, ” Ramirez said again, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do this? Don’t do this! I’m sorry, what exactly am I doing? Because it sure as hell isn’t dating some abnormally tall chick when you were supposed to be doing ‘or something’ with me!”

“Ramirez?” the Amazon asked, shifting nervously.

“Maddie, ” Ramirez warned.

“Jerk!” I yelled.

Then I picked up his half-empty glass and tossed the contents in his face.

“Jesus, ” he sputtered, jumping from his chair and blinking Budweiser out of his eyes.

“And as for you…” I said, turning on Amazon Woman.

But I didn’t get to finish that threat.

She bolted from her chair and, before I could register what was going on, pulled a gun out from her little red shrug (which I now realized was clearly not just for fashion’s sake) and grabbed me by my blonde roots. I let out a strangled cry as she wrapped one arm around my neck, holding me in a vise grip.

“All right, nobody move!” she shouted to the shocked couples at the nearby tables, their mouths hanging open as they watched the scene unfold.

Then Amazon Woman pushed the barrel of the gun against my temple.

“Or Blondie dies.”

Chapter 2

Holy crap! My first irrational thought as I stared at the barrel of Amazon’s gun was that not only was I being dumped for a tall woman, I was being dumped for a psycho! (Hey, I said it was irrational.) The second was pure thankfulness that Ramirez had quick cop reflexes. In a split second he had his gun unhol-stered and pointed at Amazon in a Mexican standoff.

“Isabel, drop the gun, ” he commanded, his voice the only calm thing in the room.

As soon as the guns had popped out, people started screaming and scattering. The Survivor chick dove under a table, and the CW actors trampled over the Olsen twin look- alike in a mad dash for the front doors. The deejay stopped spinning music, ducking behind a pair of speakers, and all I could hear now was the sound of glass breaking and a chorus of hysterical voices yelling, “Call nine-one-one.” I’m pretty sure I picked one of them out as Dana’s.

“Isabel, ” Ramirez prompted again.

“No way!” she shouted, tightening her grip on me until my vision started going blurry. “No fucking way.”

“Isabel, let’s just calm down.”

“I’m not calming nothing, you pig. This is a setup. I told you, no other cops.”

“She’s not a cop, Isabel, ” Ramirez ground out past his clenched jaw.

“Honest!” I squeaked. “I never even made it as a Girl Scout.”

“Shut up!” she commanded, pushing the barrel into my temple.

I shut up.

“Isabel, listen to me, ” Ramirez said. He was slowly inching closer to her, his gun straight-armed in front of him. “Just set the gun down and you can walk out of here right now. No one has to get hurt.”

She shook her head, long black hair flapping wildly around her face. “Uh-uh. No way, pal. I know you’ve got this place surrounded. You’ve got cops outside waiting for me. You set me up. And quit moving closer!”

I heard Ramirez mutter the word Jesus under his breath and send me another dagger-sharp look. “I didn’t set you up. She’s not a cop, Isabel. She’s my…” He paused.

I held my breath and leaned forward. Date? Lover? Girlfriend? Come on, for the love of God, finish the sentence, man!

“…friend, ” he finally said.

Jerk.

“I don’t care who she is, ” Crazy Isabel responded. “She’s coming with me.” She shifted her hold on me, grabbing me by the arm with one hand and stuffing the gun into my ribs with the other.

“And don’t you try to follow me, pig. I’ll kill her. I’ll happily splatter her brains all over this room.”

I winced. Granted, this entire episode was proving just how very few brains I had. (Why, oh, why hadn’t I just sat at home neurotically wondering what my boyfriend was doing like a normal girl?) But I wanted to keep my brains right where they were, thank you very much.

I saw the muscles in Ramirez’s jaw flinch, but he kept the gun steady on her. “Don’t do anything stupid, Isabel.”

Isabel ignored him, dancing me backward as she made her way to the nearest exit sign. Ramirez stood rooted to the spot, his eyes intense, watching the gap between us widen.

This was bad. Seeing Ramirez with another woman wasn’t so hot, but this? This was big-steaming-piles-of- cow-dung bad.

Isabel pushed through the emergency exit, sounding a fire alarm that whipped the panicked crowd into a frenzy again. A bartender yelled, “Fire!” and I saw two girls in halter tops shove Dana out of the way, dashing like linebackers to the front doors. Unfortunately, Dana knocked into Mr. How-You-Doin’, sending him teetering backward and colliding with Ramirez. Ramirez staggered back a step-which was just enough to make his aim waver. Isabel took that opportunity to bolt.

“Come on, Blondie, ” she said as the door slammed shut behind us. Keeping her vise grip on my arm, she kicked off her mules and sprinted through the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I stumbled after her, breaking a heel and stubbing my toe on the asphalt.

“Shut up!” she said. Then she paused, scanning the lot. “I need a car.”

I pointed to a green VW Bug. “How about that one?” Not that I was actually into helping the crazy lady make a great escape, but I figured the faster she got away from here, the smaller the chance I was going to pee in my pants. If there was one thing I hated in life, it was having guns pointed at me.

“A bug? What, do I look like a midget to you?” she asked, whipping her long hair around again.

I narrowed my eyes. Was that a crack about my height?

“Okay, how about that one then?” I gestured to a blue pickup with a COWGIRL UP sticker in the back window.

Isabel turned on me. “What about me exactly screams redneck?”