The merry-go-round was located near the Los Feliz entrance, close to the zoo. I found it easily by following the squeals and shouts of happy children carrying over the vast expanse of lawn. I walked around the perimeter, finding an empty bench on the south side, and sat down.
I jangled my knees up and down. I tapped my fingers on the armrest. I whistled off key along with the organ music being pumped in time with the twirling horses.
I looked down at my watch. 12:01. He was late. Okay, one minute late. Which was hardly anything. I decided to cut him some slack and waited.
I blew out a big breath, trying to calm my tightly wound nerves. I tried to tell myself this was nothing, that it would more than likely be a singularly awkward encounter, and we’d both be relieved to go home and forget about each other.
But I knew that was bullshit.
Black had become my best friend. My confidant. As screwed up as my feelings toward Cal were, they were just as screwy toward Black. I mean, how could you fall for someone inside a computer? You couldn’t. No more than you could fall for someone who was just doing his job, just looking out for you because he was being paid to, and then walked away as easily as anything when it was all over?
You couldn’t.
And I wasn’t.
I looked down at my watch. Black was still late.
I watched a kid fight with his sister over who got the gray mare. A couple of teenagers tried to share a horse, the girl falling off the back halfway through the ride, laughing. A guy selling ice cream from a little cart walked by, ringing a bell.
Twelve ten. Still no Black.
Well, hell. I’d been stood up.
Stood up by an internet loser.
Fabulous.
I was just about to take the walk of shame back to the parking lot and call a cab home when I felt a shadow fall over me from behind. I paused, something akin to hope fluttering in my belly.
Knock, knock.
My breath caught in my throat. Black.
My body suddenly froze, afraid to turn around and see the man attached to that voice. Instead, I made my own shaky voice answer, Who’s there?
Dewey.
Dewey who?
Dewey get to meet now?
Involuntarily, I let out a laugh, some of my built up tension escaping with it. I stood up and turned around to face him, hardly believing what my eyes were telling me.
And yet there he was. Finally real. So very real.
Hi, Cal said.
Hi. I shook my head, my brain not understanding what my heart was already singing at the top of its lungs. You’re ManInBlack72? I asked.
He nodded. Slowly.
But how?
He took a deep breath. Shifted from one foot to the other. God, was he actually nervous?
After we started chatting, I knew I wanted to meet you, but that you’d never agree. I knew from your profile that you worked at the Informer, so I went down to their offices to see you in person. I pretended I was there to see if they needed extra security in the building. Unfortunately, you were out, but Felix took my card. A few weeks later, he called me when you started getting threats.
So, you knew who I was all along? I asked.
He grinned. I’d be pretty crappy at my job if I couldn’t figure that out.
And, it was you I was typing with all this time?
Again, he slowly nodded his head. Disappointed? he asked, his voice low and gruff, as if the answer really meant something to him.
I bit my lip. And shook my head. No, I managed to get out, before my throat clogged with emotion. I would have been disappointed if it had been anyone else.
Cal’s face broke into a grin, his eyes lighting up in a way that lit my insides right along with them. He stepped around the bench, and I flung myself at him, wrapping both arms and legs around his middle as he lifted me off the ground.
I’m sorry, I said. About last night. I never meant to—
But he didn’t let me finish. Shut up, Bender, he whispered, then silenced me as his lips covered mine.
And then he kissed me. Long and hard and so all consuming that we were completely oblivious to everything around us until one of the teenagers on the carousel shouted at us to get a room.
I just have one question, I said when we finally came up for air. That night, with the margaritas. Did I…did we…I mean, I know I woke up in your bed, but did we… I trailed off, hoping he got my point.
He did, a devilish grin spread across his face. He delayed his answer just long enough to make me worry before saying, No. But that’s something I plan on remedying in the very near future.
I couldn’t keep back the ear-to-ear grin I felt spreading across my face. Coy I was not, and this was one time he was getting no argument from me.
Well, come on, Cal, I said with a wink, grabbing him by the hand and leading him back toward his Hummer. Let’s go get a room.
Epilogue
HOT HOLLYWOOD HEADLINES
JENNIFER WOOD’S TWEEN SHOW CO-STAR, LANI CLINE, APPEARED IN COURT FOR THE FIRST TIME TODAY, PLEADING NOT GUILTY BY REASON OF MENTAL DEFECT OR DISEASE TO SECOND-DEGREE MURDER AND KIDNAPPING. THE ACTRESS IS CLAIMING THAT YEARS OF LISTENING TO THE PERKY PIPPI MISSISSIPPI ARE ENOUGH TO MAKE ANYONE SNAP. THE TRIAL IS SCHEDULED TO BEGIN EARLY NEXT MONTH AND, DESPITE REPEATED REQUESTS FROM MS. CLINE, THE JUDGE HAS RULED THAT NO CAMERAS WILL BE ALLOWED IN THE COURTROOM. IT LOOKS LIKE HER PERFORMANCE OF A LIFETIME WILL GO UNTELEVISED AFTER ALL.
GOLDEN GLOBE WINNER KATIE BRIGGS WAS SEEN LAST NIGHT AT MR. CHOW’S WITH A NEW MAN ON HER ARM. WHEN ASKED WHO THE TALL, DARK, AND CLASSICALLY HANDSOME STRANGER WAS, KATIE RESPONDED THAT HE WAS AN ACCOUNTANT SHE’D RECENTLY MET ON MATCH.COM. RUMORS ARE THAT KATIE JUST BOUGHT A NEW HOME IN BEVERLY HILLS (COMPLETE WITH A STATE-OF-THE-ART SECURITY SYSTEM) AND IS MOVING THE NEW MAN IN ASAP. CAN A BABY BUMP BE FAR BEHIND FOR OUR FAVORITE DRAMA QUEEN?
EDWARD PINES, MOST NOTED FOR HIS BLOCK-BUSTER FILMS, WAS FOUND GUILTY IN AN L.A. COUNTY COURTROOM THIS WEEK OF POSSESSING PORNOGRAPHIC MATERIALS DEPICTING MINORS. HE’LL BE OFFICIALLY SENTENCED NEXT WEEK, BUT SUNSET STUDIOS HAS ALREADY PULLED ALL BACKING FROM HIS LATEST PROJECT. APPARENTLY, PINES’S CAREER HAS ALREADY RECEIVED A DEATH SENTENCE.
ANGSTY ROCKER BLAIN HALL CHECKED OUT OF THE SUNSET SHORES REHAB CLINIC YESTERDAY, SAYING HE WAS CURED OF HIS ADDICTION FOR GOOD. WHEN ASKED WHAT HIS PLANS ARE NOW, BLAIN SAID HE’S EAGER TO GET BACK IN THE STUDIO AND RECORD THE SONG HE WROTE IN REHAB TITLED, “I WAS A LONELY DRUID IN A WORLD OF SHAMAN TROLLS.” HE SAID HE’S DEDICATING THE SONG TO HIS NEW GIRLFRIEND, CHERRY CHASE, WHOM HE FELL IN LOVE WITH WHILE FENDING OFF FALSE RUMORS OF THEIR SECRET LOVE CHILD TOGETHER.
LAST, BUT NOT LEAST, ALEXIS MULLINS, WIDOW AND ALLEGED MURDERER OF CHARACTER ACTOR JAKE MULLINS, ANNOUNCED FROM HER JAIL CELL THIS WEEK THAT SHE’LL BE PENNING A BOOK ABOUT ACTORS WHO HAVE DIED YOUNG. WHEN ASKED WHERE SHE GOT THE IDEA, THE FORMER CHILD STAR CLAIMED, “IT JUST CAME TO ME ONE DAY.” SOURCES REPORT A MOVIE DEAL IS ALREADY IN THE WORKS.
I sat back, rereading my column one last time before emailing it to the boss. Feeling pretty darn proud of myself for getting it in early even, I clicked open my inbox to check for leads on tomorrow’s column. Fifteen messages, ranging from what-was-she-thinking? outfits on Melrose to celebrity fights overheard at this week’s hottest club. I scanned through each one, loving my network of loyal informants.
Bender!
I jumped up to find Felix’s head popping out from his office.
Yeah, boss?
Your column?
One step ahead of you. Just sent it in.
Good. Cam just got a hot tip. Actor Trace Brody? His girlfriend’s wearing a fat diamond on her left hand today.
I raised one eyebrow. They get engaged last night?
That’s what I want you to find out. Cam’s down on Rodeo canvassing jewelry stores.
I grabbed my Strawberry Shortcake purse, notepad, and ballpoint. I’m on it, chief, I promised.
And, Bender, he called after me.
>
I spun around. Yeah?
Don’t come back until you’ve got a headline that’s gonna make me drool, readers blush, and Trace’s publicist cry.
I grinned.
God, I loved Hollywood.
Acknowledgments
I want to send a huge thank you out to my fabulous critique partner, Eden Bradley, who tirelessly reads every single thing I ever write, and never forgets to put encouraging smilies at all the funny parts.
Thanks to the Crit Wits for their continued support and inspiration. If I ever had a thought of giving up, I’m sure they’d beat it out of me.
I want to thank the Romance Divas for giving me a place to celebrate every victory, whine about every bad day, and gossip about everything in between.
And last but never least, a huge thank you to my extraordinarily talented editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, without whom this book would not be. She’s a good friend, a great editor, and a kindred spirit who understands the inescapable draw of TMZ (to which I am now completely addicted).
GEMMA HALLIDAY
National Readers’ Choice Award Winner
Double RITA Award finalist
Booksellers Best finalist
Daphne DuMaurier Award finalist
“The High Heels Series is amongst one of the best…If you have not read these books, then you are really missing out on a fantastic experience, chock full of nail-biting adventure, plenty of hi-jinks, and hot, sizzling romance.”
—Romance Reviews Today
SPYING IN HIGH HEELS
“Gemma Halliday’s sparkling debut will give fans of Janet Evanovich and Linda Howard a wonderful new reason to celebrate!”
—Kyra Davis, author of Sex, Murder and a Double Latte
KILLER IN HIGH HEELS
“Drag queens meet the high-fashion mob in this fun, fastpaced follow-up to Halliday’s delectable Spying in High Heels. This amusing whodunit scores big…”
—Publishers Weekly
UNDERCOVER IN HIGH HEELS
“Undercover in High Heels was worth the wait! Maddie is on a bullet-spraying, wardrobe-ruining, get-her-(boy)friend-back, high-speed, stranger-danger adventure and she’s willing to take you along for the ride. And what a ride it is!”
—Once Upon a Romance
ALIBI IN HIGH HEELS
“Alibi in High Heels is a clever and stylish addition to Gemma Halliday’s laughter-infused Maddie Springer series.”
—The Chicago Tribune
MAYHEM IN HIGH HEELS
“A fabulous story of a dream wedding that takes a strange turn when the groom is assigned as detective in charge of the wedding planner’s corpse.”
—Eloisa James, Barnes & Noble Review
Other Books by Gemma Halliday:
The High Heels Series:
SPYING IN HIGH HEELS
KILLER IN HIGH HEELS
UNDERCOVER IN HIGH HEELS
ALIBI IN HIGH HEELS
MAYHEM IN HIGH HEELS
Copyright
MAKING IT®
November 2009
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2009 by Gemma Halliday
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0767-8
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