I slipped on a tank top and a pair of khaki capris, but they felt a little too trendy. Again, not really me.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I cared so much. I kept telling myself I was likely meeting some greasy-haired, goober-faced dork and was, in reality, in for an inevitable let down.
Still, I tried on a third outfit, finally settling on jeans, my hot pink converse, and a purple T-shirt with a flaming pink skull on the front. Maybe not the trendiest or most feminine, but it was totally me.
I took a little extra time doing my hair, even gelling the ends, and put on some mascara and lip gloss before grabbing my Strawberry Shortcake purse and heading out the door.
While meeting Black was all I could think about, it was only ten. So, I took a cab to the Informer’s offices, figuring I’d put in an appearance with Felix first. Not something I was entirely looking forward to, considering the number of unanswered messages he’d left me yesterday, ranging from, “I saw the column. Call me back if you value your job,” to the less subtle, “When I get my hands on you, Bender, I’m gonna…” trailing off into a variety of swear words that totaled at least $6.50.
Still, I made my way up to the second floor, and bravely knocked on the glass door to Felix’s office before pushing inside.
He was bent over his desk next to Allie, heads together, both staring at something on his computer screen. When I walked in, both immediately looked up, guilt marking their faces at being caught in such close proximity.
“Ah, so, um,” Allie said, clearing her throat loudly, “I’ll, uh, have final copy to you by noon.” Then she quickly slunk out, head down even though it did little to hide the blush covering her cheeks.
Which left me alone with Felix.
I sucked in courage. “Hey,” I said, giving a little wave.
“Bender. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s been a long couple of days.”
“No kidding. Cal just filled me in.”
“He was here already?” I asked, that bruised feeling hitting me again at the mention of his name.
Felix’s eyebrows drew together. “Yeah. Just left. Why?”
I shook the feeling off, telling myself it didn’t matter. The job was done. Cal was gone.
I cleared the lump of regret from my throat. “No reason. So, um, I got your messages yesterday.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You know I oughtta fire you for that stunt you pulled.”
I gulped. “Yeah, about that…”
But he didn’t let me finish, instead, plowing ahead. “But considering the story of the century Allie just showed me, I won’t.”
I shut my mouth with a click. “Oh. Good.” Wow, saved by the blonde. Who’d a thunk it?
“I must say, I’m incredibly impressed. And surprised. Turns out you’re one hell of an investigative reporter.”
I couldn’t help it. A big goofy grin spread across my face. “Really?”
“’Really?’ Are you kidding? You’ve single-handedly solved two murders in the last week. Listen, how would you like a bump from gossip to real news? I could use someone as savvy as you on Hollywood’s front lines.” He paused. Then winced only a little as he added, “I could maybe even consider a small raise.”
Wow. Felix talking raise was like The Grinch talking Christmas cookies. I took a moment to savor this rare occasion. However as flattered as I was, I shook my head.
“Thanks. But no thanks.”
Felix opened his mouth to protest, but it was my turn to plow ahead. “Hey, I’ll admit I rocked this story.” There went that goofy smile again. “But, my love lies with gossip. My column is my baby. And I couldn’t imagine seeing her in anyone else’s hands. Besides, the celebs in this town trust me to rake ‘em, break ‘em, and make ‘em. I can’t let them down.”
Felix shut his mouth, a rueful grin tugging the corner of his mouth. “Okay. You win, Bender. Gossip it is.”
“Thanks. Oh, but I will take you up on that raise,” I added.
Again the slight wince, but he covered it well. “Done. And in celebration of my star gossip columnist not only still being alive, but also getting us a story that’s sure to boost circulation by at least twenty percent, I’m taking you to lunch.”
Wow. Felix offering to shell out cash twice in a row? Had Hell frozen over? “Seriously? As in, you’re buying?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.” Then he crossed the newsroom, grabbed the Swear Pig from my desk, and turned it upside down, dumping a pile of quarters onto his desk. “There’s got to be at least twenty bucks here. Where do you want to go?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what, I have somewhere to be today. How about a rain check? Cool?” I asked.
Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
I turned to go.
“Hey, Bender?” Felix called.
I spun around. “Yeah?”
“Nice work.”
I grinned. “Thanks, boss.” And he better believe that I was going to cash in on that free lunch that I’d paid for.
But not today.
Today, I had other plans.
* * *
Giffith Park covers more than ten square miles at the east end of the Santa Monica Mountains. One of the largest parks in North America, it’s home to such attractions as the Los Angeles Zoo, the Griffith Observatory and Planetarium, and the famed Hollywood sign.
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 do 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.
12:10. Still no Black.
Well, hell. I’d been stood up.
Stood up by an internet looser.
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 al
ready 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 help 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 FIRST-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 UN-TELEVISED 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 BLOCKBUSTER 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’ 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 ANXIOUS 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.
* * * * *
About the author:
Gemma Halliday is the author of the High Heels Mysteries, the Hollywood Headlines Mysteries, and the Deadly Cool series of young adult books. Gemma’s books have received numerous awards, including a Golden Heart, a National Reader’s Choice award and three RITA nominations. She currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area where she is hard at work on several new projects.
To learn more about Gemma, visit her online at http://www.gemmahalliday.com
Connect with Gemma on Facebook at:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Gemma-Halliday/285144192552
* * * * *
OTHER BOOKS BY GEMMA HALLIDAY
High Heels Mysteries:
Spying in High Heels
Killer in High Heels
Undercover in High Heels
Alibi in High Heels
Mayhem in High Heels
Fearless in High Heels
Christmas in High Heels (short story)
Sweetheart in High Heels (short story)
Hollywood Headlines Mysteries:
Hollywood Scandals
Hollywood Secrets
Hollywood Confessions
Anna Smith-Nick Dade Thrillers:
Play Nice
Young Adult Books:
Deadly Cool
Social Suicide
Other Works:
Viva Las Vegas
Haunted (novella)
Watching You (short story)
Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit (short story)
* * * * *
SNEAK PEEK
of the next
Hollywood Headlines Mystery
by Gemma Halliday:
HOLLYWOOD SECRETS
Chapter One
“Come on, baby, just an inch to the left…” I shifted, feeling my feet go numb. “That’s it,” I coaxed. “Right there, that’s the spot… yes!”
My finger hit the shutter, and I popped off five shots in rapid succession before my subject ducked back behind the curtain of magnolia trees shading his property. I lifted myself up onto my elbows, checking the digital window to see my handiwork. Hot. I’d caught Trace Brody shirtless, a b
eer in hand. I was too far away, even with my telephoto lens, to make out the label on the bottle, but I knew he always drank beer when the temp rose above 90. He was too manly for those fruity wines, not pretentious enough to drink the trendy martinis his other Malibu neighbors enjoyed.
I’d been watching Trace for weeks now, ever since his publicist had finally confirmed rumors that the hot young actor was engaged to American’s sweetheart, Jamie Lee Lancaster. Think Angelina and Brad… without the tattoos and horde of kids. You’d be close. Then imagine if they suddenly announced they were going to have a blowout wedding on a cliff above the Malibu coastline. The press about peed their collective pants. My boss, Felix Dunn, editor in chief of the L.A. Informer, included. He’d pulled me from Britney watch and immediately put me to work documenting Trace’s every move between now and the big day.
Not that I minded. I’m much rather spend my days laid out on the hillside above Trace’s multi-million dollar spread in Richie-Rich-ville than chasing Britt on her latest Starbucks run. At least here I got the shirtless view.
I stretched out again on the grass, ignoring the way it tickled the exposed skin at my midriff between my too-low jeans and my too-high T-shirt. (The curse of being a nearly six-foot-tall woman - nothing was ever long enough). I wiped a bead of sweat from my upper lip and put the lens to my eye again, slowly sweeping the tree line for another glimpse of my subject.
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