what if, as a dark-haired Latina (with a nice shock of highlighted hair framing her face), I stuck out like a thorny cactus in a field of wildflowers?
So what?
Híjole. Nerves rattled my gut. I sure hoped I’d be able to pull it off.
A thread of silent communication passed between Victoria and Lance. After however many years of marriage, I guess you could read your partner’s mind. Jack and I had been seeing each other for a few months now—give or take twelve years or so. But the time in high school—and all the years he’d spent in San Luis Obispo with Sarah, his ex—meant we didn’t have that kind of connection. I envied them.
Victoria broke her gaze away from Lance and sighed, deep and put-upon. “You’ll come to practice this afternoon.” She glanced at her watch. “One-thirty. We have a game Friday night. I’ll work with you until you’re ready, if it takes a twenty-four-seven schedule.”
I pressed my hands flat on the table and clamped my teeth down on the inside of my cheek. “This Friday?” I choked out. ¡Ay, caramba! There was no way I could be ready to perform in front of a huge crowd in a few days’ time. Which meant that my public humiliation on Friday would be seen far and wide. Damn. Maybe I should have considered letting Sadie take the case, after all. Sexy and curvy were overrated. I mean, I had to work double hard to be taken seriously in a male-heavy profession. After Friday, would Manny or Neil be able to look at me the same, or would they always see a cheerleader?
I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to know the answer to that.
Victoria seemed to zero in on my doubt. She threw up her hands and turned back to Lance. “See? She can’t do it.”
Manny stiffened. “Yes, she can,” he said as I forced a smile and replied, “I’ll be there.”
I could do this. I’d imagine I was salsa dancing. Only without Jack Callaghan as my partner, and without salsa music. And on the sidelines of a basketball court with zillions of people watching. But otherwise, it would be practically the same thing.
“I’ll make sure you’re ready. I’m never wrong about people.”
“Mrs. Wolfe.” I stood to face her as she rose. “There is one problem. If I’m going undercover, none of the other dancers can know who I am or why I’m there. How are you going to explain a new person on the team? I didn’t go through tryouts. The season’s well under way.” Not to mention the fact that I’d grown up in Sacramento, often worked at my family’s muy popular Mexican restaurant, and had been on the news recently thanks to a stolen-identity case where I was the victim. I wasn’t a local celebrity, but I was familiar to some people.
She waved her hand. “Not to worry. Rochelle’s gone, remember? You’ll take her spot.”
Victoria made it sound so simple, but somehow I doubted the dancers would buy it. I sidled up to Jennifer and Selma as they gathered their purses and bags, making my first attempt at camaraderie. No dice. They didn’t flash a single pearly white.
Victoria turned to Manny. “You’ll be in touch, I assume?”
“Por supuesto,” he muttered, his lips curving up.
Sadie and I both stared at him. I checked my watch to be sure it was still ticking, then I pinched myself. And grimaced from the pain. Nope, this was not a dream.
I was pretty sure Victoria didn’t know he’d said of course, but she’d gotten something from his tone. She batted her eyes, just once, then glided away after her husband and the dancers.
Manny walked them to the door, the surveillance camera zipping along as it recorded their departure. A moment later, Manny sauntered into his office, the almost nonexistent grin still lingering. He closed the door behind him without another glance at me or Sadie.
“Son locos,” I muttered as Sadie shoved back her chair and marched out. I waved at the boxy camera in the corner. “Did you get all that? Enjoy the entertainment?”
As if in response, the camera zipped up and down. Yep, in his lair, Neil was laughing his ass off.
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Praise for Bare-Naked Lola...
“¡Ay Caramba! Lola’s back, and hotter than ever, whether strutting her stuff as a courtside dancer or crashing a party at a nudist resort. Between the well-crafted mystery and the sizzling romance, Bare-Naked Lola is a great read... and muy caliente!”
- Jennie Bentley, NY Times bestselling author
“Smart,sassy,andabundleoffun! Lolaisthespicy,Latina answer to Stephanie Plum – full of laughs, heart, and the kind of endearing women you can’t help rooting for. Fans of the humorous mystery genre will be cheering in their seats over Misa Ramirez’s latest Lola Cruz mystery.”
- Gemma Halliday, NY Times bestselling author
“Bare-Naked Lola reveals just how saucy, funny, sizzling and brave P.I. Lola Cruz can be. She is one hot mamacita, and this book is not to be missed! Loved every page!”
- Bestselling author Heather Webber
“Melissa Bourbon Ramirez has scored with her latest edition in the Lola Cruz Mysteries series. She had me cheering
for Lola as the sassy PI goes undercover as a dancer for a professional basketball team to investigate a mystery that kept me guessing (and giggling) all the way to the bare-naked end.”
- Dorothy St. James, author of the White House Gardener Mysteries
“Lola Cruz is smarter and sexier than ever. Melissa Bourbon Ramirez and her spicy PI detective will leave you hanging on every page!”
- Tonya Kappes, bestselling Indie author
About the Author
Melissa Bourbon, who sometimes answers to her Latina-by-marriage name Misa Ramirez, gave up teaching middle and high school kids in Northern California to write full-time amidst horses and Longhorns in North Texas. She fantasizes about spending summers writing in quaint, cozy locales, has a love/hate relationship with yoga and chocolate, is devoted to her family, and can’t believe she’s lucky enough to be living the life of her dreams.
Learn more about Living the Vida Lola and Hasta la Vista, Lola, and Bare-Naked Lola Books one, two and three in the Lola Cruz Mystery Series, and my other books on my website: https://melissabourbon.com
Connect with Melissa online at:
Twitter.com/melissabourbon
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMelissaBourbon.MisaRamirez
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