Jonah (Chicago Blaze #7) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,12

the good stuff. Wait until you see my makeup room.”

“There’s a whole room?”

“Yes, girl, and it’s killer.”

“Perfect. I have a lot to learn about cosmetics, and I also have a date Sunday night.”

“A date? You just got to town like five minutes ago! Holy shit, is that what it’s like to be you?”

I laugh and say, “God, no. I haven’t been out on an actual date in like two years. This date…it was set up by the same people who brought us together.”

“Ah,” Kai says. “Got it. But I’m gonna make you look just as fab as if it was the real deal.”

“That sounds…kinda fun, surprisingly.”

His expression turns serious. “Look, I’ve helped my dad with a couple small cases before, and I’ve been the kid of a cop my whole life. I know what’s on the line here. I want you to know I’ve got your back. Honestly, I don’t go out a whole lot and my circle is pretty small. But your cover is safe with me. In my head, you’re Renee Carlisle, beauty writer.”

“Call me Rey. That’s part of my cover, too—my friends call me Rey.”

“Okay, Rey.” He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m really excited to have you here, but we’ve got a lot of work to do between now and Sunday. Detective West asked me to change up your look. It’ll be kind of a disguise of sorts—a fresh new look fit for a beauty writer.”

“Let’s do it.”

“I’m going to shape your brows as soon as we get to the makeup room. I can’t stand to look at them for another minute.” He gives me a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I wave a hand. “I’m the first to admit I’m not into hair and makeup.”

“You are now.” Kai takes my hand. “I’m gonna make you into a bombshell, girl.”

Chapter Six

Jonah

I shouldn’t be nervous. This isn’t a real date. But I’ve got first-date jitters, because even though I’m thirty-four years old, I’ve never actually done this before.

Lily and I were high school sweethearts. We had classes together and hung out with our mutual friends, so I knew her well before we ever went out. This is the first time I’ve had to knock on a woman’s door not knowing if she’ll like me at the end of the night.

At least I know she’ll pretend to like me, which is all this is, anyway. But still, a guy’s got his ego to consider, and even if our date’s not legit, I figure Rey and I may as well have a good time.

So I’m wearing khakis. Khakis seem next level, at least in my mind. I wanted to ask some teammates when we were on the road what to wear for a first date, but I didn’t want to deal with their bullshit. Some of their wives have gently suggested that they have friends they can fix me up with when I’m ready, and I flat out refused every time. I’m gonna get lots of questions when news of my new “girlfriend” hits.

I check my reflection in my rearview mirror one last time. No food in my teeth, and the nick from shaving earlier isn’t bleeding anymore. I’m good.

I’m about to walk up the stairs to the huge old brick building Rey gave me the address to when the front door opens up and she comes walking down the stairs toward me, holding on to the handrail.

“Wow,” I say softly.

She looks like an A-list actress, her makeup perfect and her hair done in shoulder-length, caramel-colored waves. She brushes long, sideswept bangs away from her eyes and grins.

“Hey,” she says casually.

“Hey.”

“Am I dressed up enough?” She furrows her brow and looks at her jeans and dark green, off-the-shoulder shirt.

“Yeah, you look great.”

“I walk slow in these heels,” she says, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt type.”

“It’s okay.” I gesture to the left. “I’m parked about a block down.”

“Let’s do it,” she says, hanging the strap of a black handbag over her shoulder.

It’s a cool October evening, a light breeze sending a few leaves swirling through the air in front of us. Rey’s North Side neighborhood is nice, full of well-kept buildings and lots of pedestrians out and about. A guy walking by with a little dog on a leash nods and smiles as he passes.

Rey shoots me a wicked grin once we’re out of earshot. “Did that guy recognize you or was he checking you out?”

I laugh. “I’m flattered either way.”

She