Undercover In High Heels

system.

I practically raced up the pathway to Jasmine’s front door, the mix of adrenaline and sudden exertion leaving me panting like a Saint Bernard by the time she answered my knock.

“Is”-in-“he”-out-“still”-in-“logged”-out-“on?”

Jasmine gave me disgusted look (apparently Barbies don’t pant) and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep him hooked.”

I followed her into the house, past the living room, and up a set of curved wrought-iron stairs. Jasmine then led me down a wide hallway full of closed doors, the walls punctuated with pictures of half-naked women doing acrobatics on the hoods of sports cars.

“I’ve got Anna entertaining him in one of the private chat rooms, but he’s already losing interest, ” she continued. “He’s already typed, ‘I gotta go, ’ like, three times.”

I looked down at my cell, willing it to chirp to life with Felix’s number. Nope. Silent. “Can’t she keep him on just a little longer?”

“She’s trying. But Anna’s a brunette. This guy really prefers blondes.”

“So, send in a blonde.”

Jasmine shook her head. “With Veronika gone, the only blondes I have are the twins, Mandi and Candi. They’re off today shooting a Doublemint commercial.” Jasmine paused, then gave me a slow up-and-down, her eyes settling on my down-to-there neckline.

Uh-oh.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Not me. I can’t do this kind of thing!”

Jasmine raised one eyebrow at me. “Really? ’Cause you’re certainly dressed the part.”

“No, I’m not…I mean, I don’t…Look, I can’t even talk dirty to my boyfriend without blushing.”

Jasmine scoffed at me. “It’s easy. Guys don’t need anything flowery. Just talk ‘tab A, slot B, ’ and pout a lot, ” she said, pushing me toward a closed door at the end of the hall.

“But what if he wants me to, you know…play cards?” I asked, lowering my voice.

Jasmine smirked, and I had a feeling this was some sort of divine revenge on her part. “Don’t worry. Just ask him what he wants.”

“But I-”

Jasmine cut me off, opening the door and shoving me in ahead of her. In the center of the room sat a large, canopied four-poster bed covered in layers of pink and ruffles, in the center of which sat a brunette in her skivvies doing kissy-faces at a camera mounted in the corner of the room. Beside the bed sat a computer screen with a bunch of cables running from the back of it. On the screen were lines of text written by someone named BigBoy78. I squinted and made out the words you’re so hot and take it off.

Oh boy.

“Anna, ” Jasmine said, playing to the camera. “I need you downstairs. Maddie is going to take over in here.”

Anna did a seductive little wave to the corner, then followed Jasmine out the door.

“He’s all yours, ” Jasmine said. And I could swear I heard her Barbie laugh as she shut the door.

I bit my lip. I stared at the camera. I did a feeble little wave.

“Uh, hi.”

A line of text appeared on the computer monitor to the right.

I have to go now.

“Wait!” I shouted at the camera. I looked down at my cell. Still silent. “Please wait, I…I’m new here. Just give me a chance; I swear I’m really, really good. Supersexy and all that.”

I glanced at the monitor. Nothing. Crap.

“Um, I’m totally into talking about tab A. And slot B.”

Still nothing. See, I knew I was no good at this stuff.

Channeling Dana, I did my best pouty-face at the camera and let one sleeve of my dress slip down my shoulder. “So, big boy, what do you want?”

I swore to God, if he told me to take it off, I was bolting. I nervously checked the monitor-and gave a loud sigh of relief when text appeared.

Show me your feet.

My feet? Okay. Feet I could do.

I sat down and lifted up one pink pump-clad foot for inspection. “I know, the shoes totally clash with the dress. I originally had a pink sundress on, but it kind of got caked. Then ripped. So, I’m clashing a little today.”

I glanced at the monitor. No response. Had I lost him? Dammnit, Felix, hurry up!

“Uh, want to see the other foot?” I asked. I lifted my left foot for inspection, crossing my ankles in the air.

Nice.

Oh, thank God. “Thanks. They’re new.”

Stuart Weitzman?

“Actually I designed them myself. See, I’m a shoe designer, and they’re one of my few originals.”

You’re very talented.

“Thanks!” Okay, the guy couldn’t be all bad if he knew a good pair of heels when he saw them.

Show me your toes.

“Oh. Well…okay.” I let one pump drop to the floor and wiggled my half-painted toenails at the camera. “I usually get a pedi down at the salon, but I was late for the Terror’s party, so I only got one foot done. Sorry.”

Take the other shoe off.

I complied, letting the other shoe drop to the floor. As long as we stuck to bare feet, I could do this. I glanced at my silent cell phone again. What was taking him so long?

Let me see your toes.

I leaned back on the bed, supporting myself on my elbows as I lifted both feet up in the air, wiggling my toes at the camera. “Like this?” I asked.

Beautiful.

“Thanks.”

Now, suck your big toe.

Excuse me? I blinked at the screen.

A) Grooooosssss! B) Who’d wanna watch that? And C) Um…was that even possible? I mean, I wasn’t Gumby here.

“How about I just take my top off instead?” I offered, suddenly thinking stripping wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

There was a pause. Then the words, I’ve got to go flashed on the screen.

“No, wait! Okay, I’ll.”-I paused, trying not to grimace-“suck my big toe.”

Do it.

Ugh. I closed my eyes, picturing Dusty’s face. I was doing this for her. I’d failed her once; I wasn’t going to let her killer get away with it. I would find the bastard. I would nail his ass to the wall.

I would suck the toe.

I took a deep breath and leaned forward as far as I could. But since the last time Dana had dragged me to yoga class I’d fallen flat on my face while doing a downward-facing dog, my face came about six inches shy of my big toe.

“Hang on.” I gave the camera the universal one-finger “wait” signal. I scooched closer to the edge of the bed and curved my spine over into a ball, grabbing my right ankle with both hands and straining to reach it. I felt my leg start to cramp up as I attempted human pretzel. I was close, if I could just roll forward a little more, just another half an inch…

Unfortunately, I rolled up so well that I rolled right off the bed. Headfirst. Landing with a thud on the pink carpeting. “Ow.”

I stood up and rubbed my forehead, stomping feeling back into my legs. “Sorry, ” I told the camera. “I, uh, kinda fell. But I think I might have licked my toe. A little, ” I added hopefully.