Angels, Pop Stars, and...More Spies? Oh My!

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Ariana squealed as I ran to catch up with her hurried pace. Even spies have trouble running in stilettos, through busy Los Angeles, trying not to fall on our faces. This isn't a James Bond movie (but sometimes I wish it was.) Although, I did take out two assassins once while in stiletto heels...forget I said that.

"OMG! Ember, this is going to be so frickin' awesome! I've never been to a night club before." Ariana's voice joined the sounds of downtown Los Angeles at night and the incessant clicking of hers and my stilettos on the cement sidewalks.

"I have. They can be VERY dangerous places. You are to stay relatively close to me while we're there, understood? At least somewhere I can see you." I answered in a sharp, stern tone.

Ariana mumbled a few choice words under her breath that I'm glad her mother wasn't around to hear her say but nodded, nonetheless.

"Understood. Now, lighten up, Spy Girl. We're gonna have fun and party all night long!" Ariana whooped as we rounded another street corner.

As we turned the corner, I saw the glowing neon sign above the entrance to the club. Already, even though it was only eight o'clock, there was a line of fifty three people (exactly) waiting anxiously to gain entrance to the exclusive eighteen plus club. According to Ariana, it's the LA must-go for anyone old enough. Celebrities have been spotted here countless times by thirsty-for-a-story paparazzi. Technically, she shouldn't even be here. She's not eighteen yet, unlike me. But, I suppose being the President's daughter, the bouncer really can't say no. At least I'm of age for this joint.

Ariana hopped into line, her glossy blonde ponytail bobbing up and down. I crossed my arms over my chest and scanned the area. Los Angeles can be very seedy. At least the area we're in is mobbed by tourists and celebrities in dark sun glasses and hoodies, trying to hide their identities for a short time. Someone would definitely notice if the First Daughter suddenly went missing. Ariana refused to bring Secret Service guards tonight. A stupid decision but, hey, she was still smart enough to drag me along. Under my dress (if you can even call it that), I had strapped on a thigh holster carrying a fully-loaded handgun and three throwing knives. Sometimes the old ways are the best. Plus, not to brag, but I have a pretty badass aim when it comes to throwing knives and shooting. My specialty, according to Garret.

After my scan, I scooted closer to Ariana. The absence of the comms unit in my ear made me feel exposed, but I'm technically not on duty. Plus, I'm out of range anyway. I'd never get a signal. The tip of one of my knives peeked out from the hem of my shirt-like dress that Ariana had somehow squeezed me into (I'm curvier and more athletically built than her...and my damn C-cup sized boobs don't help either). I tugged the skirt down over it, concealing the blade from sight. Everyone in line in front of us either didn't notice Ariana or didn't care because we weren't being mobbed. Ariana didn't look bothered. She's enjoying a break from the havoc. Personally, I am too. Crowd control is a real bitch, especially when you're on your own. 

"Name?" the Bouncer asked before glancing up and realizing who was standing in front of him.

Ariana flashed her million dollar smile and struck a semi-pose. The Bouncer smiled back, his gaze unwavering from Ariana, who was decked out in a bubblegum pink, skin tight sequin dress and pink seven inch heels. I cleared my throat, but he ignored me.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't America's Princess herself. You can go right in." he said, unhooking the velvet rope without checking Ariana's ID.

Ariana thanked him and tottered off. I tried to follow but he clipped the rope back on. I gave him a look. His smile fell and I was met by his beet red beefy face. His eyes were black a pig like. His whole body was just muscle. 

"Oh no you don't. No free passes. Name?" he said sternly.

I bit back a snappy retort. The nerve of some people...

"Ember Rhinehart." I answered as sweetly as I could.

He checked his list and shook his head.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Your name's not on the list." 

Whoa, did he just call me what I think he did? Sweetheart? Nobody calls me that except Garret, Addy, and now Joshua. I HATE that name. Especially when used on me by strangers. He was about to have me step aside when I grabbed his hand and twisted his arm. His surprised expression twisted in pain. 

"Look, I am Ariana McGallen's bodyguard. I don't care if my name is on your frickin' list or not. I am required to go with her by federal law." I hissed through gritted teeth.

The Bouncer tried to pull his arm away, but my grip was too tight. Eventually, he nodded.

"All right, I believe you. Go ahead in." he said, his voice high pitched and breathless.

I let go of his hand and gave him a small shove. Unhooking the velvet rope myself, I made my way into the night club. Here we go. 

(Hey guys! Sorry if this sucks and I missed anything in grammatical stuff! I'm typing this on my Kindle. :) I just had the best birthday in Boston! BEST DAY EVER!)