“And you’re saying I can go undercover?”
He laughs. “Hell, yeah, you can.”
I sigh in defeat. “Are you saying I look like a minivan mom who has nothing going on?”
He frowns. “Uhhh, no. Not exactly.”
I look out the window, trying not to be hurt by that. I know being a mom is a greater calling than being a badass, but that doesn’t mean I want to be there anytime soon.
“What I meant was that you can blend. If you want to be a minivan mom, you can be one, with the right hairstyle and clothing. But if you want to be a femme fatale, you could be that too.”
I look over to see if he’s messing with me, but he appears serious.
He continues. “Some leather pants, high heels, different hair . . . easy. Done. And yet, still, no one would see you as a threat.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
“Because you have a disarming nature about you.” He smiles and reaches over to pat my arm. “Don’t sound so sad about it. It’s a huge asset in our business.”
I shrug, slightly mollified. “I guess being an asset isn’t so horrible.”
“No, trust me . . . being an asset is everything. Ozzie’s only cover with this group was the Harley thing. Too many people get around in this town to try going out again too soon. He’s out of the game now, for a long time. And I was never in. We just had Thibault, Toni, and Lucky before. Now we have you too.”
A little fear trickles into my stomach. “For going undercover?”
He shrugs. “More for just being around and not being obvious about it.” Dev drives out toward the main road that will bring us to the area of town known for having lots of car dealerships all grouped together.
I nod. “Okay. I guess I can accept that.”
“The minivan is great because you can haul all the surveillance equipment around in it, the dogs, and of course, if we need someone to blend, nothing blends better than a chick in a mom van.”
I sigh loudly. “Aaand now we’re back to me being the doggie sitter and the soccer mom.”
He laughs but doesn’t reply.
After a few minutes pass in silence, I realize that this is the best time for me to pry information from an unsuspecting victim. He’s trapped in this car with me for at least another fifteen minutes.
“So . . . what’s the deal with Toni, anyway?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He rests his wrist on the top of the steering wheel. The other arm is on the open windowsill.
“Is she in love with Ozzie? Why is she so against me being around?”
“Ozzie?” He snorts. “Hardly. He’s not her type.”
I frown. “That’s what she said, but . . .”
I can see him glancing over at me out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” I ask.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?” I hate when everyone else is in on a secret and I’m not.
“Why Ozzie isn’t her type.”
Then it hits me. “Oh. Is she . . . is she a . . . ummm . . .” I can’t say it. I feel really stupid now.
“A what?” He’s obviously enjoying my discomfort.
The words barely come out. I feel like such a prude. “A lesbian?”
He laughs. Really hard and really loud.
“What?” I’m embarrassed now.
“That was hard for you, I can tell.”
“Shut up.” I stare out the side window, my face flaming. “I’ll have you know I know plenty of gay people. I have several friends who are gay.”
“Sure you do.”
“I do.” I glare at him. How does he know I have exactly one gay friend? Has he been spying on me?
“Well, that’s nice, but Toni’s not a lesbian. Not as far as I know, anyway.”
I hit him in the side. “Why’d you make me say that if she’s not a lesbian then, you idiot?”
He’s still laughing as he holds his ribs where I jabbed him. When he finishes he sighs with pleasure. “Oh, man, that was awesome.” He glances over at me. “I just like seeing you squirm.”
“You’re a weirdo.” I’m kind of smiling but trying to stop.
He waits until he’s done laughing before he tries to speak again. “She’s got a past. Ozzie’s helping her through that. Regardless, she wouldn’t go for a guy like him in a million years.”
“A past? What kind of past?”
“I’m not sure she’d want me sharing it. But you could ask her.” He sounds way too happy about that idea.
“And get my butt handed to me on a platter? No thanks.”
“Word on the street is you can handle it.” There’s an air of mystery surrounding his tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, a little bird told me there might have been some hog-tying going on this morning during the data-mining session.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “What? Who told you that?”
He snickers. “Not Toni, I’ll tell you that much.”
“So someone was watching us this morning? How rude.”
“Hey, you make a ruckus, and people are going to come investigate.” He shrugs.
I drop my face into my hands and leave it there. “Oh my god, Toni’s going to kill me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about Toni. Just make sure you always have a pair of headphones on you, and you’ll be fine.”
My mind goes around and around that incident as Dev continues to drive. Now what the hell am I going to do? She’ll never forgive me for trapping her under that chair if she knows the team saw it happen.
Dev pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. No one’s going to say a word to her.”
“She’ll hate me forever.” I lift my face from my hands. “I’m already on the poo list with her.”
“Don’t worry. Just keep working hard, and she’ll come around.”
I snort. “Yeah, right.”
“She’s tough, but she’s not stupid. She’ll see you’re a good addition to the team, and she’ll lighten up.”
“What makes you so sure I’m that? A good addition?”
“You got the drop on me twice. On Toni once. No one’s ever gotten you yet.” He shrugs. “And like I said before, you have the perfect cover. You’re a chameleon.”
My words come out mumbled. “I prefer that nickname to stupid Bo Peep.”
He laughs, chuckling all the way into the used car lot with ten minivans parked right up in front.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Two hours later, after browsing, test-driving, and dickering over prices, I pull into the warehouse in my gently used work vehicle: a gold Toyota Sienna. Ugh. I hate this thing. I feel instantly ten years older when I’m sitting behind the wheel. I should probably go trade Felix in for a golden retriever and round out the look.
When I see him racing across the warehouse toward me, so excited he’s curved in the shape of a comma, I decide that’s a stupid idea. Felix is my little man. Maybe I can get him a little doggie seat to strap into the back. If I’m going to look like a soccer mom, I might as well have a baby seat too, right?
Ozzie comes down the stairs and shuts the driver-side door for me as I bend down to get Felix into my arms. I revel in the happy puppy love for a few seconds, using it to calm my racing heart. Ozzie is trying not to smile at my arrival—I know he is. His face is twitching.
“I like your new ride,” he says.
“I hate it.”
When I catch the look on his face, I hurry to amend my statement. “I mean, I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it.” Wow. The guy gives me a company car, and I tell him to suck it. Nice.
He raises an eyebrow at me.
I sigh. “I hate looking like a soccer mom when I’m not a soccer mom. I never pictured myself as that person, I guess.” The pout that comes out is not faked.
He pats me on the back and takes Felix from me, playing with his tiny ears as the mutt tries to lick him to death. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. My heart calms and starts to go all gooey. He’s forgiven for making me drive a minivan.