“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is a bad thing when we’re talking about the Mob!”
The cutest couple gasped.
“Keep your voice down,” I whispered.
Ramirez clenched his jaw. He took a couple of deep breaths and I could see him mentally counting to ten. Though instead of getting calmer, I think that vein in his neck was starting to bulge.
Luckily I was saved by the waiter appearing with our overpriced merlot. He uncorked our wine and poured us each a glass. Ramirez downed his in one big gulp.
“Do you realize you just inhaled about twenty dollars worth of wine?” I whispered as the waiter walked away.
Ramirez fixed me with a stare that could stop a charging bull. Then poured another glass. “Okay, Sherlock Fashion,” he said through clenched teeth. “What did Maurice have to say? Spill it.”
So I did. I told him what Maurice had said about the three Manolo-keteers working on the side for Monaldo. I told him about Larry and Hank’s blow-up, Hank’s propensity to carry a gun, Bobbi’s disappearance, and Larry’s skipping town. I was just about to tell him about my dust bunny encounter with Unibrow’s wingtips when the waiter returned to take our order.
Ramirez ordered the steak. Rare. I hemmed and hawed over the linguini marinara or the lasagna with cream sauce, figuring the longer I took the more time Ramirez had to get that bulging vein under control. No such luck. As soon as the waiter left again, Ramirez pinned me with one of his unreadable stares.
“What?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to decide whether to put you on the first plane back to L.A. or take you back to my place, tie you up, and make you forget this whole thing.”
I blinked a couple of times. “Do I get a say in this?”
He leaned forward, his face serious. “Maddie, the last thing I want to do is get called in to identify your body. Which is exactly what will happen if you don’t leave this alone. Guys like Monaldo will hurt you like they’re swatting a fly, and not think twice about it. Please go home.”
I had to admit, his concern was actually kind of touching. “But what about Larry? I can’t just leave him to be hunted down by Monaldo.”
“And what exactly do you propose to do about it? You can’t even squish a spider without freaking out.”
I bit back a smart reply as a teeny tiny part of me kind of agreed with him. I was in so far over my head that I could see blond roots. But Ramirez on the other hand did this kind of thing every day…
“Nothing. But you could do something.”
His eyes narrowed into catlike slits. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
“You’ve got to put Larry into some kind of protective custody.”
“What, I should just lock him up? Maddie, do you know how hard it is to get a legitimate witness into protective custody? Let alone some guy who may or may not know anything, and who, I might add, may or may not even be willing to tell us what he does know?”
“But I think he might be in danger.”
“You think he might be.”
“What about Hank?” I asked. “You said yourself that wasn’t a suicide.”
Ramirez blew a big sigh up at the ceiling. “Look, unless your father turns himself over to the police with information about a crime, there’s nothing I can do.”
“This is because you want me to leave, right?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips. “You’re just trying to discourage me so I’ll get out of your hair.”
“No,” Ramirez said, his voice going tight like he was really trying to restrain himself from lapsing into Spanish swearing again. “I’m telling you the same thing I would say to any concerned citizen.”
“But I’m not asking you as a citizen, I’m asking you as your-” I paused, biting my lip. His what?
Ramirez raised an eyebrow, interested to see how I finished that thought.
“Your…girl you’re on a first date with.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Maddie, but unless Larry turns himself in, there’s nothing I can do. Besides, wherever he is, I’m sure he’s fine. I know Larry. He can take care of himself.”
I paused and stared at him. My heartbeat sped up as his last comment sank in. “Wait a minute-what do you mean, you know Larry?”
“I’ve been undercover at the club for the last six weeks, Maddie. I’ve gotten to know the employees.”
I don’t know why it hadn’t dawned on me sooner, but comprehension suddenly smacked me upside the head. “Oh. My. God. You’ve known about my dad all along, haven’t you? You knew he wore go-go boots and didn’t tell me?”
He fidgeted in his seat. And to his credit he even looked a little sheepish. A very little. “Maddie, I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d react this way.”
“What way?” I said, my volume quickly rising into a range that had the world’s cutest couple glancing our way again. “How exactly am I reacting? Like I’ve been lied to? Like the person I’m supposed to be able to trust is keeping secrets from me? Like everyone else knows about my dad’s high-heel fetish but me!”
“Maddie-”
“No, don’t you ‘Maddie’ me.” I banged my hand on the table, making the cutest couple jump in their seats. They were openly staring now and, I’d wager, taking bets to see who won. “How long have you known?”
Ramirez sighed. “Larry had talked about a daughter, but I didn’t know for sure it was you until I heard the message at your apartment.”
“That was days ago! I can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me.” My fingers clenched around my butter knife and it took all my willpower not to reach across the table and stab him in his no-good, lying heart with it.
“Maddie, I was undercover. I couldn’t tell you.”
“I’m sorry, being undercover isn’t an excuse for being an asshole. Dammit, Jack, I can’t believe you did this. You lied to me!” I paused. “And do you want to know what’s even worse than that?”
Ramirez pinched the bridge of his nose. I could tell he really didn’t. Too bad. He was damn well going to hear it anyway.
I stood up, throwing the knife down on the table and giving him my best staredown. “You have now officially ruined our very first date!”
Ramirez shook his head, his eyes straying to my Wonder-cleavage again as his voice came out in a wistful sigh. “I’m not getting any again tonight, am I?”
Damn skippy, pal.
The first thing I did when I got back to the room was raid the restocked minibar for a tiny bottle of tequila and a king-size Snickers bar. Healthy food be damned!
I crunched down hard on a bite of peanuts and nougat, my fists still clenching and unclenching at my sides. I couldn’t believe Ramirez had kept my dad a secret from me! What kind of a person would do that? Sure he was undercover, blah, blah, blah. I’d heard enough of his work excuses to last me a lifetime. But this one crossed the line. How could someone know your father wore go-go boots and not tell you? If he could keep something like that a secret, what other things had he been keeping from me? A secret wife? A harem of long-legged Mob girlfriends? A career modeling underwear on the side?
Okay, so I wouldn’t really mind that last one too much. But it was the principle of the thing. You were not supposed to keep life-altering secrets from your girlfriend.
I paused, Snickers suspended in midair. But I guess I wasn’t technically his girlfriend. Hell, we couldn’t even have one lousy date together. Let’s face it, as a couple, we were a disaster. Why was it we were always either fighting or ripping each other’s clothes off? What was wrong with us that we couldn’t just have a nice dinner together?
I polished off the Snickers bar while I digested this disconcerting thought. I contemplated going for a second one, but didn’t want Marco to accuse me of stretching out his sweater. Instead I checked my messages, figuring I’d given Ramirez ample time to leave me a humble voice-mail apology.