Alibi in High Heels (22 page)

Dana sent me a get real look.

"Okay, so maybe he likes me a little."

"And you like him."

"I do n-"

Dana shot me that look again.

"Okay. Fine. He's a good kisser." I paused, sniffing the roses again. "But so is Ramirez.
Very
good."

Dana shrugged. "Okay, so maybe Ramirez sent them." She popped a bite of muffin in her mouth.

I absently shoved a piece of croissant in my mouth. "You think?"

Dana nodded. "Sure. He said you needed to talk. I mean, you guys really have unresolved issues."

I nodded. "But then again, so do Felix and I. He was about to tell me something at the show, but he was interrupted."

"Okay, so we're back to Felix again?" Dana asked, the frown increasing.

I shrugged. "Or Ramirez."

"Maddie," she said setting down her spoon and leaning in close. "Who do you want it to be?"

I bit my lip. And stared at her. But I didn't say anything.

Because I had no idea.

* * *

The rest of the day moved in slow motion. After Mom and Mrs. R got up we went down to the police station to give Moreau our official statements. Then Jean Luc called, saying my shoes had arrived - most of them minus fingerprint dust - and he was having them sent to the hotel. Marcel called, wanting to know when he'd get his interview, and Ann left a message saying she was booking the next Le Croix photo shoot and could they use my designs? But I couldn't concentrate on any of it. All I could think about was the Eiffel Tower at six o' clock as I watched the time crawl by.

Finally at quarter past five, I threw on a black, form fitting dress with a high neck (to cover my bruises), a short hemline (to give my legs the illusion of length - or at least the one good one) and a low scoop in the back (to make the boys drool). I went heavy on the mascara, light on the eyeliner, and puckered up for a swipe of Raspberry Perfection lip gloss, then pulled my hair up into a flattering French twist. I slipped on one black, strappy, two inch pump, and, while there was nothing I could do to dress Wonder Boot up, I had to admit, I looked pretty damn hot.

On instinct, I grabbed one of the roses from the bouquet to take with me, holding it to my nose as I made my way down the elevators and across the lobby.

I took a cab to the Eiffel Tower, my stomach doing the dancing butterflies thing as my palms grew sweatier the closer we got. As we drove through the city, the sky just starting to turn a dusky pink, the setting sun illuminated the old architecture and captured the light off the fountains spurting along the plazas.

And then I saw it.

The cab rounded a bend and suddenly there it stood in front of me, in all its glory. The Eiffel Tower. I sucked in a breath, the beautiful pink hued sky behind it breathtaking.

By the time the cab pulled up in front, I was lucky I could walk, my stomach was wobbling so badly. I paid my fare with shaky hands and took a ticket, riding the elevator all the way up to the top of the tower. I awkwardly hobbled out on Wonder Boot, taking a spot in the center of the platform, just a little scared to stand too close to the edge this high up.

Though I had to admit, the view was amazing, the entire city of Paris spread out before me, the air clear and cool. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my nerves.

And watched the elevators.

Group after group came up, families with cameras around their necks, students toting backpacks, all speaking a variety of languages. People snapped photos, laughing and pointing down below us. And I stood, twisting my hands together. Two words tumbling over and over in my mind. Ramirez. Felix. Ramirez. Felix. I had no idea who would come off those elevators next.

And then another carriage arrived. The doors slid open. Three teenagers and a family of four from Japan filed out.

And him.

I sucked in a breath, not realizing until that moment just how very badly I'd wanted it to be him. I felt tears well behind my eyes and let out a long breath as he approached.

"Maddie," he said.

I took a deep breath. "Jack."

His dark eyes looked down at me and even though they were rimmed in sleepless circles, they were the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. His stubble covered jaw flexed, some emotion flitting across his face that I couldn't read. But I didn't care. He was here. And that was all that mattered.

"Oh God, Jack, I'm so sorry. I'm so glad you're here, but I'm so sorry about everything. I don't know how I always seem to make such a mess of everything, but I promise, I'm going to be the best girlfriend ever from now on. I just-"

"I can't do this."

I paused mid-sentence. "What?"

His eyes took on a sad look. "Maddie, I asked you to meet me here because I needed to talk to you. I'm sorry, but I just can't do this anymore."

My heart froze. "W-what do you mean you can't...?"

Ramirez shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead in a way that made me itch to brush it with my fingertips. Instead, I clasped my hands tightly together around the flower stem, hoping the death grip on the rose would somehow help me get a grip on reality.

"All we do is fight, Maddie. We're butting heads. Me, I'm a straightforward kind of guy. What you see is what you get. And you..." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know if I'll ever figure you out. Hell, you drive me nuts."

I felt tears welling behind my eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to drive you nuts."

"I know," he said, his voice soft. Almost if he didn't want to say the words any more than I wanted to hear them. "I know you don't. But I swear you've taken ten years off my life since I've known you. I don't know how trouble finds you, but it does. I don't want to do this anymore, stay up nights wondering where you are, not knowing if you're safe, if you're in danger, if you're..." He trailed off and I could mentally see the scene at Felix's playing out in his head.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked out again, at a loss for anything else to say.

He took a deep breath, staring out over the roofs of Paris. "I just can't do this anymore. I don't want you to be my girlfriend."

The tears stared blurring my vision and I fought to keep them back. If he was breaking up with me, the last thing I wanted to do was cry and beg for him to stay. I did a loud, unladylike sniff. The sweet scents of roses and the cool Paris air oddly incongruent with the hollow, gnawing feeling in my stomach.

"So, what are you saying, Jack?"

He took another deep breath, his nostrils flaring, his jaw set at a determined angle. Then he turned and looked me squarely in the eye. It wasn't his Bad Cop look. It wasn't his lustful Big Bad Wolf look. Just him and me. It was the most real I had ever seen him. Like suddenly he was letting me in to see the real guy behind everything else.

And then he bent down on one knee.

His hands reached into the pocket of his jacket, and out came a little blue, velvet covered box.

A ring box.

I blinked and I dropped the flower.

My heart stopped beating, my breath doing short little gasps, my eyes going big and round. The tears couldn't be held back any longer, wet lines streaming down my face even as I felt my lips curve up into a smile.

"You're shitting me!" I said. I know, not the most romantic thing in the world. But I seriously couldn't believe me eyes. A ring? It was like I'd stepped into the end of a Meg Ryan movie.

Ramirez's gaze didn't waiver, his eyes steady on mine. Though a small corner of his lips twitched. "Jesus, Maddie, don't cry." He reached one hand up and gently wiped my cheek with the pad of his thumb. "At least wait until you see the ring."

He opened the box and the most brilliant emerald cut, sparkling two carat diamond winked back at me. The tears gushed like Niagara Falls and I think I actually laughed out loud. Okay, so it wasn't Tiffany, and it wasn't the biggest thing I'd ever seen. But it was the most beautiful.

It was from Jack.

Ramirez' Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his eyes suddenly vulnerable, his breath coming fast and hard. One of his large hands covered mine in a warm embrace.

"Maddie, I don't want you to be my girlfriend. I want you to be my wife," he said, his voice shaky but his dark eyes steady on mine. "Maddison Louise Springer, will you marry me?"

* * * * *

About the author:

Gemma Halliday is the author of the
High Heels Mysteries
, as well as the
Hollywood Headlines
Mysteries
series. 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, including a mystery series for teens debuting in 2011, and a new mystery series for adults, set to be published in 2012.

To learn more about Gemma, visit her online at www.GemmaHalliday.com

* * * * *

BONUS MATERIAL: Fabulous French recipes

While writing ALIBI IN HIGH HEELS, I tried my hardest to find a way to actually visit Paris. When that didn't work out (the Paris casino in Vegas was a close as I got), I got myself in a Paris state of mind by trying out some French cooking. At first I was leery - French food sounded hard to make. But I actually really enjoyed trying some of these, and they weren't nearly as scary as I had anticipated. I hope you enjoy this French feast as much as I did. Bon appetite!

Apricot Baked Brie

3/4 cup chopped fresh apricots

1/3 cup chopped apple

1/4 cup chopped pecans

2 tablespoons raspberry jam

1 8-ounce Brie round

2 sheets frozen puff pastry, thawed

Brown sugar

1/4 cup of maple syrup

Put the chopped apricots, apples, and nuts on a lightly greased baking sheet and bake at 425F for about 15 minutes. Then mix the roasted fruit and nuts with the raspberry jam.

Reduce the oven heat to 400F. Cut the Brie in half, and evenly spread the jam filling in the middle, like a Brie sandwich.

Place the Brie on one sheet of dough, tucking the ends up around the Brie, then cover the top with the second sheet, cutting to fit. Drizzle maple syrup and place a handful of brown sugar on top. Place on a lightly greased baking sheet and bake it for 35 to 40 minutes or until the pastry is golden brown. Serve with crackers or baguettes.

Chicken Cordon Bleu

6 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves

6 slices Swiss cheese

6 slices ham

Dijon mustard

3 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon paprika

3 tablespoons butter

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 cup dry white wine

1/4 cup chicken stock

1 tablespoon cornstarch

1 cup heavy whipping cream

Pound chicken breasts to about a 1/2 inch thick, then spread a little Dijon mustard on each piece. Place a cheese and ham slice on each breast. Fold the edges of the chicken over the filling, and hold together with toothpicks. Mix the flour and paprika in a small bowl, and coat the chicken pieces.

Heat the butter and oil in a large pan over medium-high heat, and cook the chicken until browned on all sides, about 10 min. Place chicken in a shallow baking pan and put in a 350F oven for 20 minutes.

In a saucepan whisk together cream, wine, and chicken stock. Simmer on low, adding more stock if needed, for about 10 min. Pour over chicken and enjoy!

Chocolate Crepes

2 cups Flour

Pinch of Salt

4 Eggs

2 1/2 cups Whole Milk

2 tbsp. Butter (melted)

Vegetable Oil (for pan)

Nutella

Powdered sugar

(makes about 15 crepes)

Sift flour and mix with salt in a bowl. Make a well and pour in eggs, then stir. Slowly pour in milk while stirring, then keep stirring batter until small bubbles form on the surface. Stir in melted butter.

Pour a little vegetable oil on a folded paper towel, and wipe your pan evenly. Keep paper towel at hand while preparing crepes, to give another wipe, if needed. Pour 2 - 3 tbsp. of batter into the pan and quickly move pan around, so that batter spreads evenly, covering the whole surface with a thin layer. Cook for about 1 minute. Then, flip with a metal spatula, and cook other side for about 30 seconds. Remove crepe from pan and let cook on a plate. Repeat until you are out of batter.

Spread a thin layer of Nutella (or any of your favorite chocolate spread) on the crepe. Fold in half, then fold again (in quarters). Sprinkle with powdered sugar. Voila!

* * * * *

BONUS MATERIAL: Maddie's Killer Dating Tips

We all know dating can be murder. Navigating the world of eligible bachelors can sometimes feel like wading through a lineup of one guilty suspect after another. As this was Maddie's last book as a single gal, I put together a few dating tips gleaned from her (and my own) adventures in girl meets boy. Here's hoping all my readers make it out of the singles scene alive!

1. The Set-Up

We all have well-meaning friends who fancy themselves master matchmakers. My advice - avoid them at all costs! Let's face it, if this "great guy" your single friend is setting you up with really is so great, she'd be dating him herself. And if a married friend tries to set you up, take a close look at her husband. If he's Brad Pitt, I might trust her judgment. Otherwise, take a pass. It just leads to that awkward post-date discussion where you have to tell your friend that, as attractive as the portly look is on her husband, you're just not sure it's really your type.

2. The Alibi

Always have an alibi to get you out of a sticky first date situation. Me, I have a system with my best friend, Dana. If a date is heading south, I excuse myself for the ladies' room and text Dana with a "911". I then go back to my date and wait for Dana's call three minutes later saying, "The house is on fire. Get home now!" Voila, date over! And a lot easier than trying to climb out the bathroom window.

3. The Accomplice

It's always less pressure to go on a double date, especially early on in a relationship. So, invite a single friend to come along with you on your next date, and tell your Mr. Wonderful to do the same. It's a great way to set a more casual mood, and, as an added bonus, you get to meet one of his friends! You can learn a lot about a man by interrogating his acquaintances when he steps out of the room.

4. The Body

Let's face it, chemistry is important. Lots of dating services now have extensive personality tests to match you with your perfect like-minded mate. But if there's no physical "wow" between you, all the compatibility in the world isn't going to make a difference. While every relationship progresses differently, if fireworks don't shoot through the sky the first time you get up close and personal with Mr. Wonderful, chances are you're better off as just friends. Trust me, every girl deserves "wow".

5. The Evidence

Whatever you do, don't let the rosy glow of new relationship cloud your judgment when it comes to the hard facts about your new man. "Between jobs" means "unemployed". "My car is in the shop" means he takes the bus. And that "older roommate" he lives with? Yeah, it's his mom. If the evidence points to "loser", don't be fooled by his charming smile and smooth lines. Run. Run for your life, and don't look back!

While not every relationship is destined for a happily-ever-after ending, sometimes the best advice is just to enjoy the thrill of the investigation as you and Mr. Wonderful get to know each other. And who knows, if the clues add up, you just might end up with a perfect partner in crime after all!

* * * * *

SNEAK PEEK

of the next
High Heels Mystery

by Gemma Halliday:

MAYHEM

IN

HIGH HEELS