Operation Burlesque BBW Romance Page 16

  She arched an eyebrow. “Into the car?”

  I nodded. “Their windows are down, or at least they were.”

  She hesitated and looked at the grenade with a frown.

  “It’s us or them, Lilli. Which side do you want to win?” A few days ago I might have had the same hesitation, but I’d left behind any resistance to doing what I had to do to survive in the Sahara. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sew again. I didn’t want Blake to die for no good reason.

  “Us. I choose us,” Lilli said simply. She waved a hand, motioning me forward. “Let’s do this.”

  “Okay.” I steered into the other lane and hoped the road would continue to be deserted or else we would run into oncoming traffic. “You have to be fast, Lil. We won’t have much time.”

  I looked toward the lights in the distance, which were much closer now. Close enough I could see the US flag waving in the air. All we had to do was shake our would-be murderers and make our way to safety. It would finally be over.

  The men kept shooting at us making things difficult. The car behind us also gained ground and more automatic gunfire came our way. They knew we were going to make a move.

  Staying as low as possible, I pulled alongside the SUV while Lilli simultaneously rolled down her window.

  When we were perfectly even with the driver, I screamed, “Now, Lilli, now!”

  She bit her lip and hoisted the grenade up in her hand. After what seemed like forever, but was actually not even a full second, she tossed the grenade toward the driver’s window. I floored the accelerator once it was airborne and held my breath.

  They SUV skidded to a stop and I caught a glimpse of the men frantically scrambling to either find the grenade or exit the vehicle, I couldn’t really tell which. Watching the action in a rearview mirror didn’t make it any easier either. Counting the seconds in my head, I frowned when I reached twenty.

  “It didn’t go off,” I said.

  Lilli shrugged. “I threw it like you asked.”

  I looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Did you pull the pin, Lil?”

  She appeared confused by my question.“The pin? What pin? There was a pin?”

  I smacked the steering wheel and swore loudly. “Yeah, there was a pin. It was a grenade. You know, you pull the pin and it goes boom.”

  “Oh shit, Ruby.” She slumped in her seat. “I didn’t even think about that, I was hyper focused on getting it into their car.”

  It would’ve been funny if we were starring in an action adventure film. The two hapless heroines who couldn’t even detonate a grenade to save the day. Except this wasn’t a movie and we didn’t have stunt doubles.

  I swore under my breath and pushed the Jeep’s accelerator to the floor. The engine sputtered and the speed didn’t change. The speedometer needle stayed firmly lodged on ninety-five miles per hour.

  “Really?” I asked, disgusted. “This is my luck?”

  “What is it?” Asked Lilli.

  “Nothing. This car is a piece of shit, that’s all.” I checked the rear view mirror, my heart sinking when I saw the two cars gaining on us.

  I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. We were less than a tenth of a mile from the US embassy, maybe it wouldn’t matter that the grenade didn’t go off. Or maybe that one mistake would cost us everything. I tightened my grip on the wheel and focused on the road ahead. We were so close, we had to make it. I refused to accept that we wouldn’t.

  There was a big boom behind us and the concussive force of it actually hit the Jeep, causing it to shudder forward. Lilli looked over her shoulder in response to the noise while I checked the rear view mirror. I couldn’t make anything out except a ball of fire and the fact that the cars tailing us had apparently…well, gone up in smoke to use a particularly apt cliché.

  “What’s going on?” I asked knowing Lilli would get a better view than me.

  “I think the two cars crashed,” she said squinting into the distance. “And maybe the grenade went off after all. Something blew up at least.”

  Relief washed through me, so immense it overpowered my nerves and I couldn’t feel anything else for a moment. With numb hands, I pulled up in front of the US Embassy. the building, much like Frankie’s mansion, was surrounded by high walls and a steel gate blocked the entrance. Two military guards stood behind the gate, and at our appearance, their hands went to their guns.

  Lilli and I spilled out of the car talking at the same time.

  “We’re US citizens,” I shouted.

  “We were kidnapped,” Lilli shrieked as she ran up to the gate and gripped its bars.

  “Put your hands up,” barked the one officer. His blue eyes glittered at us, cold as ice and his mouth was a tight line.

  Instantly we both raised our hands over our head.

  “Please sir, you have to help us,” I begged. “They’re going to kill us.”

  “Your names?” asked the other officer, he had gentle brown eyes and his jaw didn’t clench quite as tightly as that of his counterpart’s.

  “Ruby Palmer.”

  “Lilli Lush,” said Lilli. “Maybe you’ve heard of me?”

  The men just blinked at her with blank expressions. Too bad, we could’ve use a diehard fan just then.

  “I knew I should’ve done that USO tour last year,” Lilli muttered under her breath.

  When the officers didn’t appear to be doing much of anything with our names or at all inclined to open the gate, I started babbling. “What about Blake Cannon? Do you know that name? He was here on a government op, but Ferrid Abdul—who is a terrorist by the way--figured that out and the whole mission was compromised. What about Frankie Abruzzo, you ever hear of him? He’s the one who kidnapped us both.”

  Something I said hit a nerve because the men rushed to let us into the compound. The steel gate opened silently and we both raced inside. Just in time too, because another big SUV full of men with guns screeched up to the embassy. Lilli and I dove behind the thick adobe wall sheltering the embassy, our reflexes on high alert after the car chase we’d just survived.

  The soldiers were almost as fast and took up spots on either side of the gate, guns drawn and aimed at the street.

  The SUV’s engine raced. A car door opened, there was shouting in a foreign language and the blue-eyed officer yelled, “This is American soil. We will shoot to kill.”

  A relative quiet fell at his statement, lasting all of two seconds before they started arguing amongst themselves in whatever language they spoke. Then I heard a car door shut and the angry squeal of tires as they zoomed off. Taking a risk, I peeked around the corner to check out the street.

  Lilli pulled on my sleeve. “Ruby, what are you doing?”

  I yanked my arm away. “Nothing. Just trying to stay alive, same as you.” With relief, I noted the street was empty save for our Jeep. We were safe. We’d made it. My knees turned to jelly and I sagged against the wall, enjoying the cool stone at my back.

  “Everything okay?” Lilli’s green eyes searched my face anxiously.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” My voice caught and tears slipped from my eyes.

  Lilli swept me up in a hug, her whole body trembling from head to toe. “Oh my God, Ruby. We’re not going to die. It’s over.”

  I sniffed back tears, fighting not to ugly cry. “Yeah, it’s over.”

  Someone cleared their throat. Wiping our eyes, Lilli and I looked toward the sound. It was the icy blue eyed soldier. He didn’t look any more friendly than before. In fact his gaze seemed even cooler now. Was he even human?

  “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.” He jerked his head back to the building. “You’ll need to answer some questions.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Lilli rushed to say with an eager nod of her head.

  And so we entered the US Embassy and told them the story of how a burlesque dancer and a seamstress got mixed up in the national security business of the United States Government.

  ***

  “How are
those costumes coming?” Lilli peered over my shoulder and I resisted the urge to hunch over my sketch pad like a child caught writing notes in school.

  She considered what I’d drawn and made a non-committal noise which could be construed as approval or disapproval depending on your mood. My mood wasn’t especially good lately.

  I’d cried at the Embassy as they ‘debriefed’ us, which is a fancy word for sticking us in separate rooms and treating us like criminals for two days. I moped the entire plane ride home. The whole time I’d thought it would be a relief to return to the United States. I’d fantasized about what I would do, how I would feel. Naturally I assumed it would be fabulous.

  Instead I felt I was missing pieces of myself.

  Namely my heart.

  On which Blake Cannon’s name was carved.

  The intense media scrutiny only made things worse. Someone, somewhere had talked. A lot. There was a crowd of paparazzi mixed with legitimate press waiting for us at the airport in New York City. The media called our adventure Operation Burlesque and dogged us everywhere we went. Lilli vamped and preened while I desperately tried to fade into the background.

  She wouldn’t let me get off so easily, which is how I ended up doing several morning show interviews. I drew the line at a movie script though, and I refused to even acknowledge the idea of a Broadway musical.

  At least we made some good money off the interview circuit. Enough that we didn’t have any immediate financial concerns. Lilli herded me through it all, carefully fussing over my clothes and make-up and running interference with the news shows’ producers. She fielded most of the questions, making it so all I had to do was agree with her. I appreciated the small mercy, grateful that I had a mother hen. Even if she wore glitter.

  Yes, the first thing Lilli did was buy all new make-up and a wardrobe that made Liberace jealous from beyond the grave. She’d been through hell and I didn’t blame her for wanting to look like she came through the other side better than before. I just didn’t have the heart to join her in the triumphant homecoming.

  See also: The previous bit about how my heart was back in Morocco, buried somewhere in the rubble of a bombed out building.

  I thought of Blake constantly. I dreamed of him. I saw him in the edge of a random stranger’s jaw or the flicker of heat dancing in the darkness of their eyes. Once, I followed a man for several blocks, convinced he might be Blake, hoping he wasn’t really dead.

  I was always wrong.

  After a week in New York, Lilli flew us out to Los Angeles, thinking to revert to our original plan to design and produce a new burlesque show. Her knee was still healing from surgery and she needed a few months of therapy before she could perform again. In LA we could work on the new show while she worked on her knee.

  She paid someone to drive the RV from where it had been abandoned deep in the heartland out to California. We took up residence on the beach, brainstorming the new show and drinking a lot of margaritas.

  Or rather, Lilli brainstormed while I doodled in my sketch pad and drank too much.

  She made phone calls, looked at venues, reviewed music and roughed out choreography. Somehow, whereas I came back deflated as a sad little donut tire, Lilli returned reborn and charged with enough energy to seize the world and shake it up.

  I couldn’t keep up.

  Worse, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

  But there was no stopping Lilli.

  “So, is that a…umm..mermaid?” Her tone was mild, but didn’t completely mask a thin thread of frustration in her upper register. I was supposed to be drawing bird costumes.

  “Sorry, I was daydreaming.” Flustered I closed the sketchbook and made to retreat to the beach. I would sit out there for hours watching the horizon as if hypnotized. Maybe that’s where the mermaid came from, some half-baked hallucination.

  Lilli put a hand on my shoulder. “Take your time, Ruby.”

  A flush burned up my cheeks. “You don’t have to wait on me, Lil.” I loved her too much to hold her back. I could rent a place somewhere and burrow there until…what exactly I couldn’t say. Something.

  She shook her head and sat next to me on the little sofa inside her RV. Today she wore a turquoise bathing suit cover-up, underneath was her customary black bathing suit…blinged out like a disco ball on steroids, naturally. When she took off the cover-up, the sun cast rainbows all around her as the crystals on her suit fractured the light. To complete her look, her nails, both hands and feet, were a perfect pink and she’d elaborately curled her hair like a black-and-white movie starlet.

  Clearing her throat, Lilli said, “Costumes are a second skin, a soul you try on and breathe life into. These costumes need to be special, they need to be more than fabric. You’re the only one I trust to do that.” Lilli leaned forward and patted my knee. “Take your time. We don’t have a production schedule.”

  “But for how long?” I asked her, frustrated myself now. I didn’t want her to wait for me to catch up. I didn’t think I could. Sooner or later there would be dates and deadlines and where would I be? On the beach drawing mermaids?

  “As long as you need, Ruby. As long as you need.” She stood up. “I’m going to make margaritas. You want one?”

  I shrugged, which she took as assent. Watching her prep the blender, I asked, “You told me he was worth it. You still think that?”

  She froze and then looked at me, her gaze probing. “It’s not what I think, it’s what you feel. Was he worth it?” When I didn’t answer right away, she busied herself with margarita making. When the drinks were poured, she handed me a glass and prompted, “Well?”

  I sighed, still conflicted. Finally I said, “It just hurts so bad.”

  “So if it hurts, he wasn’t worth it?” She settled back into the couch, one leg tucked under her looking every inch the 1940s glamazon.

  I shook my head, “No, but--”

  She cut me off, “There’s no but. It’s a yes or no question.”

  “He was worth it,” I whispered. And then I started to cry because he was dead and the whole time I was with him, all I had wanted to do was leave. Lilli wrapped her arms around me and rocked me back and forth. She didn’t talk, just held me while I sobbed.

  When I finally calmed down, she spoke. “You know, I got hurt too and it was worth it.” She swept my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear, rocking me with my head on her shoulder the way a mother soothes a baby. “You know why?”

  I sniffed and shook my head, confused. She’d had all the violence without the romance. Frankie had worked her over like a punching bag. The bruising on her stomach had taken weeks to heal. What could possibly make that a good thing?

  “Because I know I’m alive.” She tightened her arms around me. “I know I want to be alive. I know I’m strong, that I can survive and that is a gift you can’t buy at the mall.”

  I sniffed and wiped my eyes, trying to regain control of myself.

  “You survived, Ruby. Just like me. I’m not going to let you waste it.” She gave me a little shake. “You’re going to put on your big girl panties and make some fantabulous costumes. We are going to burlesque like burlesque has never burlesqued before.”

  “In a peacock outfit,” I said, smiling. The plumage alone in my sketches made me wonder if the over-the-top costumes would actually be capable of flight. There were no half-measures with Lilli. It was either all the feathers or none.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She pretended to be offended.

  “It is a lot of feathers.” I was pretty sure we were going to break world records in the ‘number of plumes used in a costume’ category.

  “Well,” she said primly. “In my experience, more is what makes a life.”

  More. I contemplated the word. Such an odd way to look at things, but Lilli didn’t see the world in a linear way. She didn’t see black-and-white either, but rather rainbow. Maybe instead of dwelling on everything I’d lost, I should look for what more I wanted to add in. T
he simple, yet positive thought lightened the load on my shoulders.

  “Thanks, Lil.” I broke our hug and stood up. “I think that’s what I needed to hear. I’m going to go out to the beach and sketch, okay?”

  “Working on a costume, yes?”

  I nodded as I gathered up my sketchbook and pencils. “The quetzal. I’m going to finish it today.”

  She clapped her hands and bounced happily in her seat. “Yay. Go, Ruby go.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The quetzal was a beautiful bird often referred to as ‘resplendent.’ I crafted a costume with a burgundy corset made out of painted aluminum. Bird experts also described the plumage color as ‘metallic’ so I used that to inspire material choice. It would be my first time incorporating such a large metal piece into a costume. The rest of the costume would be a mix of green feathers covered with sequins and jewels. Over that, the dancers would wear my version of traditional Mayan dress since the ancient Maya had held the Quetzal sacred. Lilli had already picked out an interesting music track blending techno club tracks with traditional Guatemalan music. The act wasn’t a striptease per se, but a metaphor for freedom, for unshackling our wings and allowing ourselves to soar.

  Which is why there would be wires to lift the performers up into the air. That added a whole new layer of complexity to the costume design and I had to make several sketches to balance the need for safety and the needs of the performance.

  The beach was quiet and the ocean moved in a gentle swaying motion. I worked for several hours while I soaked up the heat from the sun and the calm of the scenery around me. It was the most at peace I’d felt in weeks.

  Trust Lilli to set me straight.

  When my neck began to kink from hunching over my sketch pad, I called it quits. A smile on my face, a lightness in my step I headed back to the RV, my pace slowing as I saw what waited there.

  A limo.

  Another damned limo.

  This couldn’t be good.

  Holding my sketch pad across my chest like a shield, I headed for the RV. My heart thumped against my ribs and I calmed myself by listing all the ways that limo was so not about me. No one knew we were here. We’d purposely kept our location a secret just to be safe. Ferrid or Frankie might still be out there and I had no desire to meet either of them again. More importantly, I wasn’t famous, wasn’t somebody people would send a limo for..