Confessions of a Wild Child (16 page)

I am pissed. Where is my freedom? Why is there always someone around to watch over me like I’m some kind of crazed criminal?
Leave me alone
,
people!

Our first stop is the beauty salon. A frightening place filled with dozens of anxious females busily working on a quest to look younger.

I am perfectly happy with my image, thank you very much, but apparently Daddy Dearest is not – he has requested a ‘proper hairstyle’ for me, whatever that might mean.

Yikes! I like my hair exactly the way it is, an abundance of wild curls that frame my face. My hair is me, it reflects my personality. I don’t want anyone to mess with it.

A middle-aged gay man with firmly pursed lips and a pinched nose does not get the message – he goes to town on me, attempting to curl my hair into neat little girly curls.

I hate him. I hate the curls. Ugh! I emerge from his chair looking beyond hideous!

‘You look adorable,’ Flora says, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

What does
she
know? Anyway, could be she’s talking about herself, not me.

Next it’s on to a fancy boutique, where Gino has personally chosen two dresses he wants me to have. One is shocking pink (yes, I kid you not!). It is frilled at the neck and hem. I can’t even describe the other dress ’cause it’s even worse.

‘Mr Santangelo has requested that you wear the pink one tonight,’ Flora says after I have tried the monstrosity on.

‘No way,’ I protest, staring at myself in a full-length mirror. ‘It’s hideous.’

‘Your father chose it personally,’ Flora says, adding a cloying – ‘surely you don’t want to let him down?’

Yes I do
,
I do
.

‘And I guess I shouldn’t tell you this,’ Flora adds, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Mr Santangelo has a big surprise for you. I must say I’m quite envious.’

A car
,
is it a car?
I want to yell.

Now
that
would be true compensation for the hair and the dress.

‘What is it?’ I demand.

Flora giggles nervously. ‘I can’t tell,’ she simpers. ‘It’s a surprise.’

Back at the hotel I sneak a shot of vodka from behind the bar, flirt with the room service waiter who delivers me a club sandwich, and play a game of lone pool on the full-size table. I’m pretty skilful at pool – if nothing else works out I can always be a pool hustler! Oh yeah, wouldn’t everyone love that.

Gino’s penthouse suite is like an amazing apartment – it even has an indoor–outdoor pool with fountains and a full music system. Talk about major luxury.

I explore the set-up. Four bedrooms and that’s not including Gino’s. Why he needs four bedrooms, all with their own en-suite marble bathrooms, is beyond me. After Flora leaves I spend some time roaming around Gino’s bedroom. There is a huge oversize bed, where he probably entertains an army of women. A giant TV which lowers from the ceiling. A Picasso painting on the wall. A closet full of clothes – including many of his favourite tailor-made suits, shirts galore, and dozens of silk ties in many colours. Daddy certainly knows how to look after himself. He has the best of everything.

I find myself wondering if he enjoys the fact that he has children – me and Dario. Or does he resent us?

Sad to say I honestly don’t know.

*  *  *

Later, after I have brushed my hair back to some sort of normalcy, I put on the vile pink dress, and wait until eventually Gino reappears. The good news is that he is with Marco!

Oh my God
, Marco is all dressed up in a dinner jacket and black tie, he looks like a freaking movie star. I feel young and dumber than shit in my stupid dress. This is
not
the way I wanted Marco to see me. I am totally humiliated.

‘Hey, kiddo,’ Gino says, hurrying to his room and calling over his shoulder. ‘Ten minutes an’ we’re outta here.’

This leaves me and Marco alone in the vast living room with the mind-blowing view. I’m at a loss – what am I supposed to say?

I hover
.

He ignores me
.

I continue to hover
.

He walks over to the bar where he fixes himself a drink. Doesn’t offer me anything. Doesn’t say a word.

I wonder if he knows about Dario.

No. Why would he?

Should I tell him?

No. Why would I?

‘This is my first Vegas trip,’ I venture, because the silence is just too awkward.

Marco gives me a long look. ‘Yeah?’ he says, as if he couldn’t care less.

I nod vigorously. ‘One day I’m going to be doing this,’ I add.

‘Doing what?’ he asks, still disinterested.

‘Building hotels, making things happen.’

‘Don’t you mean that’s what your brother’s gonna be doing?’ Marco says. ‘Gino has big plans for Dario, he’s gonna be the man.’

I narrow my eyes. I am shocked. What the
hell
is he talking about?
I’m
the one who is going to inherit the family business.
I’m
the one with a million ideas for the future. Dario isn’t interested in carrying on the family business. I know that for a fact because we’ve talked about it. Dario has absolutely no desire to follow in Gino’s steps, he wants to write or paint. He’s actually very artistic, so Marco is full of it.

‘Dario has plans of his own,’ I mutter.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes,’ I answer firmly.

Marco consults his watch. ‘We gotta go,’ he says, ignoring my comment about Dario’s plans. ‘Mrs Richmond doesn’t enjoy being kept waiting.’

‘Who is she anyway?’ I ask with a sulky scowl. ‘And why is Gino kissing her butt?’

‘Gino doesn’t kiss anyone’s butt,’ Marco says with a dry laugh.

‘Well, throwing a big event for her when it’s
my
birthday, that’s major sucking up.’

Marco shrugs. ‘Gino does what he wants to do. Surely you’ve figured that out by now?’

I keep scowling, it feels good. I could get a master’s in scowling.

‘I’m never kissing up to anyone,’ I say with conviction. ‘They’ll kiss my ass – and they’ll love doing it.’

Marco can’t help grinning. White teeth flash. Sexy dark eyes. Deep olive skin like mine. I know we would have the most incredible-looking children.

‘You’re somethin’, little Lucky,’ he drawls, staring me down. ‘You really are.’

And I know for sure that I’m totally in love.

Chapter Thirty-Four

T
he venue for Betty Richmond’s event is massive, a vast ballroom filled with dozens of perfectly setup tables with massive flower arrangements and an actual band playing on a stage. I gaze around in awe. Everyone appears to be rich and old, although the men seem to be a lot older than their female partners. What else is new?

As I trail behind Gino into the room I notice Betty and Peter Richmond holding court. Gino immediately heads in their direction, and I start wondering where Marco is. He came downstairs with us and then vanished. I will him to reappear.

Biting my lip, I follow my father, feeling most uncomfortable in my stupid dress. Gino treats me as if I’m a kid always ready to do his bidding. It’s time I straightened things out with him, let him know who I really am.

And who exactly is that? Oh yes, a smart sixteen-year-old who plans to rule the world, or at least the world of hotels and gambling in Vegas.

I want to be you
,
Daddy
.
I want the power
.
And one day I will have it
.

Girls can do anything. This I know for sure
.

Gino is now greeting Betty Richmond, kissing her on both cheeks, then shaking Senator Peter Richmond’s hand.

And who’s the tall, skinny jerk standing next to the Richmonds?

‘Hey, kiddo,’ Gino says, turning to me. ‘Wancha t’meet Craven, Betty and Peter’s son.’

I give the tall one a quick scan. He’s about twenty, and
so
not hot. He is horse-faced like his mom, with a ruddy complexion like his dad. He has sticking-out ears, short hair and a bad case of acne. I throw him a quick nod of acknowledgement. Too bad he’s
not
hot, maybe we could’ve gotten into some trouble. But no, I can tell trouble is not on his radar.

Gino leads me over to a nearby table. ‘You’ll be sitting here tonight,’ he informs me.

‘With you?’ I ask, although I already know the answer.

As usual Gino doesn’t disappoint. ‘Sorry, kiddo,’ he says, not sounding sorry at all. ‘I gotta sit at the head table with the Richmonds. Craven’s gonna be right next to you. I want you two kids t’get to know each other.’

Huh
. Is he joking? Craven Richmond is the last person I want to get to know. Before I can ask why he thinks I should get to know Craven, Marco reappears, passes Gino a small package and sits himself down.

Things are suddenly looking up. Is Marco at my table? Yes! It seems he could be.

Gino shoves the package in his pocket, summons a waiter to bring over a bottle of champagne, and favours me with a benevolent smile. ‘You’re a good kid at heart,’ he says. ‘An’ here’s the deal – you’re gonna be OK.’

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not as if I have a terminal illness or anything – of course I’m going to be OK.

Recently I’ve decided I can handle anything: it’s a powerful feeling and I’m sticking with it.

I slide a glance toward Marco. Surely it’s not fair that one man can be so devastatingly handsome? Dark hair, dark eyes, and a look that women obviously find irresistible.

The champagne arrives, glasses are filled and Gino clinks his with mine. ‘Happy birthday, kiddo,’ he says, digging into his pocket and pulling out the package Marco handed him earlier. He gives it to me. ‘For you, Princess,’ he adds.

I tear open the package. It contains an expensive-looking leather box. I open it and there, nestled against a velvet background, are two glittering diamond ear studs.

‘Wow!’ I gasp, throwing my arms around Gino and hugging him. ‘These are amazing!’

Chuckling, Gino pushes me gently away. ‘Thought you’d like ’em, kiddo.’

I feel so damn happy. Here I am in Vegas on my birthday with my father, and he’s just given me diamond earrings because he cares. He actually
does
love me. Things couldn’t get any better.

‘Those are some earrings,’ Marco remarks as I hold them up to my ears.

‘I know,’ I gush. ‘So beautiful.’

‘Whyn’t you go to the little girls’ room an’ put ’em on?’ Gino suggests. ‘I wanna see what they look like on you.’

I don’t need asking twice. I jump up and practically run to the ladies’ room, where I encounter Betty Richmond.

‘Look what Daddy gave me,’ I blurt, flashing my earrings.

‘That’s nice,’ Betty says, although I can tell she doesn’t mean it. For some unknown reason she obviously hates me.

Back at the table Gino is gone, so is Marco. The table is filling up with people I don’t know. My burst of euphoria is on its way out, especially when Craven Richmond sits down next to me.

‘How are you?’ he asks.

A wave of bad breath envelops me. Ugh!

‘Great,’ I mutter, and that’s it for our conversational interaction.

*  *  *

A longer and more yawn-making event cannot possibly exist. Maybe I’m difficult to please, or maybe I don’t have much patience, but the people at my table suck big-time. Nobody has anything to say, especially Craven, who I can’t wait to escape from. He’s the kind of guy Olympia and I would label jerk – creep – BORING!

I wonder how Olympia’s doing. I kind of miss her. She can be mean and selfish, but she’s also the one responsible for encouraging me to be my own person.

‘There’s another party after this,’ Craven informs me. ‘Your father asked me to escort you to it.’

Oh, he did, did he? What’s wrong with you, Daddy? Why have you stuck me with this total idiot?

I agree to go because I find out it’s Gino’s party, which makes me sure that Marco will be there. And indeed he is, only
my
Marco is deep in conversation with some blonde bimbo in a too tight neon-orange dress.

I am outraged! What is he thinking? She’s not his style at all. Too flashy and too trashy.

I throw Marco a steely glare before stalking around the room trying to locate Gino. When I do, I find he’s too busy talking to the Richmonds to pay me any attention. So much for fatherly love.

Once more I hate him.

‘I’m tired,’ I inform Craven, whom I can’t seem to shake since he’s obviously decided to follow me everywhere like an annoying shadow.

‘Me too,’ he agrees.

‘Think I’ll go to bed then.’

‘I’ll escort you to the elevator.’

No escaping Craven and his bad breath. What did I do to deserve such a prince trailing me around?

We leave the party and mingle with the masses in the main lobby. I am dying to scoot into the casino to check it out – but Craven heads straight for the private elevator that’ll whisk me up to Gino’s penthouse.

We reach the elevator and stand there waiting for it to arrive.

‘How about a game of tennis in the morning?’ Craven enquires, tapping the side of his long thin nose.

I feign a yawn and mumble, ‘Dunno what time I’ll be up.’

‘I’ll call you at ten,’ Craven says, not to be put off. Then before I can back away he leans over and kisses me chastely on the cheek, adding a cryptic – ‘Don’t worry, everything will turn out fine.’

What?

I shake my head and quickly jump into the elevator.

Please God
,
make sure I never have to spend another evening with him again
.

Craven Richmond brings dull to a whole new level.

Chapter Thirty-Five

H
ome at last, or rather Gino’s luxurious Vegas penthouse, which is kind of creepy when there is nobody in it but me. My first move is to run into my bathroom, strip off my disgusting pink dress, crumple it in a ball, then kick it in a corner. Ha! I’m never wearing
that
again. Next I throw myself under a shower and wash the crimpy curls out of my hair.