"Yeah," said the same kid who'd spoken to her in the back of the van. "You tell them pigs where it's at."
She didn't have the heart to tell him she hadn't yelled at the police. Besides, she could chalk up the episode as being good for her image. Maybe she could get one of them to talk to Zack's journalist friends.
An hour later she was let out of the cell and led into a waiting room where Zack paced like a caged lion. He looked horrible. His hair stood on end, his face was as hard as granite, and a small muscle twitched in his jaw.
But she barely had time to notice these things. He scooped her up and held her so tightly to his chest she thought she'd snap in two.
"Jeez," he breathed into her hair. "I'm sorry, Annie. I'm so sorry." He rubbed the back of her neck with his big, warm hand. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear his heart beating fiercely.
So he was worried about her. Maybe she should get arrested more often.
He held her until a police officer coughed discreetly and told them to move on. Zack caught her hand and led her out of the station after giving the officer a glare.
"Did they hurt you?" He inspected her face and neck then her arms. "If they did, I'll—"
"I'm fine." She headed to the Ferrari parked out front. "How did you get me out so fast?"
"I know a couple of high-ranking cops. I told them you weren't involved and they put the paperwork through straight away." He paused at the hood of the Ferrari and caught her face in his hands. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded.
He let go and swore. "I shouldn't have left you. I should have known you'd end up getting into trouble." He smacked the hood of the car so hard she was surprised he didn't dent it.
"Gee, thanks." She pulled away but he caught her hand and gently reeled her back to him. He placed his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.
"I had a feeling about today." He kissed her again in the same spot but this time he lingered, then gave her another fierce hug before releasing her. "I'll take you home."
Home had a bed, a couch, and privacy. "No, that's okay, you can drop me back at the office. I'm fine."
"Yeah, but I'm a nervous wreck. I need a drink."
But instead of going home, he drove to a bar called Ed's Place.
"What are we doing here?"
"I thought I'd show you where I came from. Ed's Place was like a home to me years ago, before I made my money. I drop in sometimes to say hi." He grinned. "Thought I'd bring you here since you've now got a record. You'll fit right in."
"A record! But I thought—"
"Relax, I was joking." His eyes twinkled. "I got them to drop the charges."
Ed's Place was dark and it took several moments before her eyes adjusted. When they did, she noticed a few patrons dotted along the polished bar, nursing beers. Most looked up when they walked in. Some nodded and one or two got off their stools and shook Zack's hand or clapped him on the back.
"Been a while, DiMarco," said the burly barman when they sat at the bar. "What brings you back here today?"
"A clash with the cops."
The barman nodded as if he heard that sort of thing all the time, and produced two beers without anyone asking. Annie didn't mind. She actually felt she ought to be drinking beer after getting arrested. It just seemed right.
Zack and Annie clanked bottles and took a swig of their beers. She tried not to screw her nose up too much but a little twitch got past her. Fortunately he was too busy talking to old friends to notice.
"DiMarco, long time no see." A man came up to them and shook Zack's hand. He was in his early thirties, with a crew cut and a face that looked like it had seen too much sun. But it was a face that Annie instantly liked—all crinkles and dimples when he smiled. Which he did a lot.
Zack introduced him as Mike, an Australian he'd known for over fifteen years. Mike scanned her from head to toe, then nodded. "Nice," he said to Zack. "Too nice for a bloke like you."
"We used to be room mates," Zack explained to Annie. "Mike came to LA around the same time I did. Neither of us had any money but somehow we managed to survive in a tiny apartment in one of LA's seedier suburbs." He laughed. "It was the worst place I've ever lived in. The rats were bigger than the cats. Remember that place, Mike?"
"Remember it! I still live there."
Annie giggled. She liked him. He had a down-to-Earth attitude. Nothing fake. He definitely wasn't LA material. She couldn't imagine him dating fluffy air-heads with implants.
"So what are you doing here?" she asked.
"I've come for a drink." He gave Zack a look that said 'Is she loopy?'
"I think she means what are you doing in LA."
"Oh." Mike rolled his eyes and placed an arm around Annie's shoulders. He looked straight into her eyes without blinking. "Looking for the love of my life."
"Like I said, what are you doing here?" she said.
Mike chuckled. "I like this girl. Cynical. Smartass. Just my type." He clanked his beer glass against hers and pulled up a stool. "Definitely not yours, DiMarco."
She glanced quickly at Zack but his expression was unreadable.
"So what do you do, Sweetheart?" Mike asked, leaning closer.
"I'm an agent."
His expression changed and Annie got the answer to her question—he was an actor trying to make it in Hollywood. Just like nearly everyone else in Tinsel Town.
"Music," she added to put him at ease.
He relaxed and his dimples and crinkles returned. He drained his beer and thumped the glass on the bar. "So what's a gorgeous girl like you doing with this old loser?" He grinned and nodded at Zack.
She shrugged. "Riding motorbikes, getting arrested, that sort of thing."
He chuckled. "Sounds just like old times."
While Zack ordered another round of beers, Mike sidled closer. "Seriously, what are you doing with him?"
That was a very personal question from someone she'd just met. "What do you mean?" Annie asked innocently.
"Well, let's just say," he leaned forward conspiratorially, "that you, sweet Annie," he planted a light kiss on her cheek, "are way too good for him."