“Hey, ” I said tentatively.
Nothing. He didn’t move, didn’t nod, just kept his cop face on as he stared at me. Yep. He was definitely a little miffed.
“So, uh, have you been waiting long?”
I think I saw his shoulders shrug half an inch. Or it might have just been a smog-induced illusion.
“Um…are you going to say something? Anything?” I squeaked out, my voice doing that caught-coloring-on-the-walls falsetto again.
He took a deep breath in, then out, his nostrils flaring. Then he reached up and slowly took off his sunglasses. Yikes. Nope, his dark eyes were a far cry from twinkling. Seething might be appropriate. Or searing, penetrating.
Pissed off.
“Do you have any idea what kind of trouble your stunt last night caused?” he asked, his voice low and strained, a clear undercurrent of “dammit, you really screwed up this time, Maddie” running through it.
I wondered if it was too late to jump back in my car.
“Um, lots?”
He took a step forward. I instinctively took one back, coming up against the driver’s-side door of my Jeep.
“Thanks to my association with, and I quote, ‘that crazed shoe girl, ’ my captain has reassigned me.”
“Reassigned?” I repeated. “Like, demoted?”
Ramirez made a low growling sound deep in his throat.
Yep. Like, demoted.
“Isabel is MIA, her boyfriend got the tip-off that she’s been talking to the police and now he’s in the wind, and my captain has busted yours truly down to celebrity bodyguard duty.”
Ramirez had been advancing on me as he spoke, until his face was just inches from mine, those granite features starting to twitch as if they might crack into a full-blown rage at any second. I leaned farther back into my car, and I think I may have whimpered.
“I’m sorry, ” I squeaked out.
His eyes narrowed, and he placed a hand on either side of my head, barring any ideas of escape. “Sorry?”
I gulped. “Really, really sorry.”
He did that low growl in the back of his throat again. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it didn’t sound a whole lot like, “I forgive you.”
I gulped again. “But being a bodyguard isn’t all that bad, right? I mean, celebrities can be fun.”
“Oh sure. Tons of fun. Watching a bunch of pampered actresses while they open their fan mail. My idea of a good time.”
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
There was that growl again.
“Look, I’m really, really sorry. I so didn’t mean to get you in trouble. And I’ll so make it up to you.”
One eyebrow hitched up. “Make it up to me? I’ve gone from working homicide to spending twenty-four/seven babysitting a bunch of second-rate actors on the Magnolia Lane set. How the hell do you think you’re going to make that up to me?”
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, maybe I could talk to your captain, maybe if I just explained this—Wait. Did you say Magnolia Lane?”
He nodded, giving me a “yeah, so?” look.
“Ohmigod. The Magnolia Lane?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Ohmigod, are you freaking kidding?Only daily on Entertainment Tonight. It’s, like, the hottest show on TV. These are no minor celebs. The star, Mia Carletto, was up for an Emmy last year. Wow, you actually get to meet Mia Carletto. You should be thanking me!”
His eyes narrowed again. Apparently he didn’t watch as much TV as I did.
“So, what will you be doing? Will you get to hang out with the cast? Go to parties with them? Ohmigod—are you going to the Emmys?”
Ramirez muttered, “Jesus, ” under his breath, then took a step back and rubbed a hand through his hair until it stood up in little tufts. “No, I’m not going to the Emmys. Miss Carletto has been getting threatening letters and her publicist just happens to be my captain’s daughter-in-law. So, lucky me, I’m supposed to keep an eye on the set until we find out where they’re coming from.”
“Ohmigod, I heard about those letters on Access Hollywood. That is so cool!”
Ramirez gave me a look.
“Well, I mean, not cool that she’s getting threatening letters, but so cool that you’ll get to meet her. Oh, oh—do you think you could get me on the set? Just to get an autograph?”
“No!” Ramirez yelled loudly enough to make my downstairs neighbor peek through her chintz curtains at us. He rubbed another hand through his hair, then spoke through gritted teeth. “No, I don’t want you anywhere near that set, do you hear me? I don’t want you anywhere near my work. Ever again. Thanks to you, a cranked-up felon is tooling around L.A. in a stolen car and I’m on Hollyweird detail. I want you as far away from me as possible. Got it?”