Double Lucky (25 page)

“You're a very pretty girl with a very dirty mouth,” Henry remarked, pursing his thin lips. “Your mother should wash it out with soap.”

“What're you, from another century?” she said scornfully.

He didn't like the fact that she was so aggressively verbal. Surely she could sense that he wasn't about to hurt her?

Surely she knew they were destined to be together?

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

After an hour of sitting at the roulette table Brigette was up several thousand dollars. There was nothing like a winning streak to make a girl smile. Bobby kept running off to the crap table, then coming back to check on how she was doing.

“Roulette's an idiot's game—how come you're winning?” he asked, hovering over her shoulder.

“I know,” she said, blue eyes gleaming. “I keep on putting a stack of chips on eleven, and can you believe it's come up three times!”

“Way to go, Brig.”

“Oh,
yes
.”

“Didn't realize you were such a gambler.”

“I'm not.”

“You could've fooled me.”

“Do you mind?” she said, placing more chips across the table. “You're disturbing my concentration.”

“Don't go losing it all.”

“No intention of doing that.”

“And don't pick up any guys,” he added, observing that quite a few men lurking around the table had their eyes on her. It was a given. She was undeniably hot.

“Why not, Bobby?” she asked innocently, as if she were totally unaware of the kind of attention she was attracting.

“'Cause
I'm
the one who's watching out for you today—after all, I
am
your big, bad uncle.”

“Surely you mean my
little
uncle,” she contradicted, grinning at him. “Let's not forget you're nine years younger than me, Bobby.”

“Okay, so I'm your little uncle who's keeping a close eye on his smokin' niece.”

“Shh … you're messing with my luck,” she said, busily placing even more chips around the table.

The wheel started spinning. Once again her number came up. She let out a whoop of delight.

“Wow!” Bobby whispered in her ear. “A few thousand dollars certainly turns
you
on.”

“You're right,” she said, excitedly scooping in her winning stack of chips. “'Cause this is
my
money, Bobby. I didn't inherit it from anybody. Made it all myself.”

“How about cashing in and we go get a drink?”

“I'd sooner have something to eat.”

“We can do that too,” he said. “Go on, Brig, make a move before you lose it all back.”

“If you insist,” she sighed, reluctantly pushing her stacks of chips back toward the croupier.

*   *   *

“I was thinking I could take you for a pizza at Spago,” Alex suggested, willing her to say yes, because how often did he get a chance to be alone with Lucky?

“Is that what you were thinking?” Lucky said, shuffling through a pile of change orders from various contractors.

“You're finished signing, aren't you?”

“I guess, but there's other things I should go over,” she answered vaguely.

“
Now?
”

“Well…” she said, hesitating for a moment. “I suppose I
could
do everything on Monday when I come back.”

“Go eat,” Mooney encouraged, letting out a discreet burp. “Have fun while you're here. Go toss a few coins in a slot machine.”

“Do I
look
like a slot machine kind of girl?” Lucky said dryly.

Mooney roared with laughter.

“Okay, Alex,” Lucky said. “I can always find time for a pizza.” She turned to Mooney. “Why don't you take a break and come with us?”

“Gonna pass,” Mooney said. “Too much to do, but I'll drive you over.”

Ten minutes later Mooney dropped them off at Caesars, where they made their way to the outside patio at Spago.

“This is a quite a coincidence,” Lucky said after they were seated. “Both of us in Vegas at the same time.” She took a long beat before adding, “You wouldn't be stalking me, would you, Alex?”

“Sure,” he answered, quite amused. “I'm stalking you, Lucky. Got nothing better to do with my time.”

“Sending me notes too?”

“Notes?”

“‘Drop Dead Beautiful.'”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I've been getting a series of notes delivered to my house. Could be an invitation to something, but Bobby thinks I should have someone look into it.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“I just did.”

A young waiter came over, handed them both menus, and took their drink orders.

“What exactly do the notes say?” Alex asked, after ordering a Bloody Mary.

“That's it,” Lucky said. “Short and simple—‘Drop Dead Beautiful.'”

“Sounds like a movie. In fact, I think there
was
a movie with that title.”

“The thing that's a bit odd is that the notes are hand-delivered to my house,” Lucky said, picking up a glass of water and taking a sip.

“What does your security guard say?”

“I gave up guards a couple of years ago. Didn't want to live like that, nor do I want my children thinking they have to be protected.”

“No?”

“
Definitely
no. I've hired security for Gino's party, but other than that I want to be able to get in my car and go places without being followed and watched.”

“Y'know, Lucky,” Alex said thoughtfully, “you have a big reputation and a ton of money. You
should
have security.”

“Don't need it, Alex.”

“Okay,” he said, picking up the menu. “Let's talk pizza. What you got in mind?”

“I'm thinking smoked salmon,” she said, relieved he was dropping it.

“I'm thinking I'll join you,” he said, snapping his fingers for their waiter.

After they'd ordered, Lucky sat back and took a long look at Alex. He was aging well—in fact, he looked better now in his late fifties than ever. He was super smart, very attractive, and extraordinarily talented. She wondered why no woman had been able to lure him into marriage.

“Where's Ling?” she asked casually.

“Ling doesn't fly well,” he responded.

“You know, Alex,” she said, fingering the rim of her water glass, “you should get married. You need a woman to look after you.”

“Yeah,” he answered, giving her a look. “And who do you think that woman should be?”

“Haven't given it any thought,” she said offhandedly.

“Apparently you have.”

“No.”

“No?” he said disbelievingly.

“I do have a few things on my mind other than your marital status,” she said, fishing her sunglasses out of her purse and putting them on.

“Yeah,” Alex drawled sarcastically. “It's bright in here, isn't it?”

“Fuck you,” Lucky responded, trying not to smile, because she had to admit that Alex knew her so well. He even knew that whenever she felt uncomfortable she hid behind her shades.

“Anytime,” he said, half smiling. “All you have to do is name a time and a place.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, finally laughing.

“And she finds me an object of amusement,” he said dryly.

The waiter delivered their drinks to the table—a Bloody Mary for Alex, Perrier for Lucky.

“This is nice,” Alex said, picking up his drink.

“What's nice?”

“You and me sitting here enjoying some time together, just the two of us.”

“This is hardly a date,” Lucky pointed out. “So don't try making it into one. We're good friends who happened to run into each other.”

“Good friends who are never alone anymore.”

“Any
more
, Alex?” Lucky said, raising an eyebrow.

“When we were making
Seduction
we had plenty of alone time,” Alex reminded her. “I remember it well.”

“Sure,” Lucky said lightly. “Us and a crew of hundreds.”

“I guess you're choosing to forget all the time we spent in the editing rooms?”

“Why do you think I wasn't prepared to make another movie with you?” she said flippantly.

“Don't be like that.”

“Like
what?
”

“Like you don't feel that there's anything between us.”

“Alex,” Lucky said impatiently. “I've told you this before, there can't be anything between us.”

“Because of Lennie?”

“I love Lennie, you
know
that. How many times do I have to tell you?”

He sighed. “There's something I've always wanted to say to you.”

“Please don't,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I don't want to hear it.”

“I'm going to.”

“No, Alex, you're not,” she said firmly.

Before he could reply, Bobby and Brigette strolled into view.

Lucky immediately waved them over to the table, delighted to create a distraction.

“Alex,” Brigette exclaimed, flushed from her recent win. “Haven't seen
you
in ages.”

“It's been a long time,” Alex agreed, standing up. “And look at you, Bobby, I hear you're running the hottest club in New York.”

“Tell my mom,” Bobby said wryly. “I'm not sure she believes me.”

“Sit down, join us,” Lucky said quickly. “We're about to have smoked salmon pizza.”

“Delicious!” Brigette exclaimed. “I'm starving!”

“Then we shall order two more,” Lucky said, signaling their waiter.

Alex threw her a look. “Of all the joints in Vegas they had to pick this one,” he murmured ruefully. “Timing's everything, huh?”

Lucky nodded. “It sure is.”

And once again they exchanged an oh-so-intimate smile.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

When Internet Freak returned later that day with a tray of food and a bottle of water, Max was ready for him. She'd had all afternoon to think about what she was going to say.

“You should know that I'm only sixteen,” she announced, making a desperate attempt to let the creep know how young she was. Maybe, just maybe, it might convince him to release her. “When I told you I was eighteen,” she continued, “I was lying. And another thing, I never mentioned to my mom that I was meeting some strange guy, and when she finds out I'm missing, she'll major
freak
!”

“But you're not missing,” Henry said patiently. “You're here with me. You're perfectly safe.”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes. This dude was a looney and she couldn't take much more of this insane situation. “I'm
not
safe,” she shouted, forcing her tears to go away. “I'm your fucking
prisoner
. You've kept me locked up here since last night. YOU'VE GOT TO LET ME GO!”

“Eventually,” Henry said, quite composed.

Eventually. What did
that
mean?

Gotta stay strong
, she told herself.
It's not smart to show weakness.
Ever since she was a little girl, Lucky had drilled into her that girls can do anything. Lucky's mantras:
Be strong. Kick ass when necessary. Never give in.

Well, there was no way she was giving in to this creepo loser with his weaselly face and psycho lifeless eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she glared angrily at her captor. “Where's Ace?” she demanded. “Why are you keeping us apart?”

“That is not your concern,” he said.

“Yes it
is
,” she argued, still glaring at him. “Where is he?”

“I sent him away.”

“No you didn't.”

“Yes I did.”

It suddenly occurred to her that Ace and Internet Freak might be in cahoots. It was very possible that Ace was part of the plan and
that's
why he wasn't around. Of course. It was all so obvious. He'd sent Ace to soften her up and then pounced. How stupid was she to fall for it?

She shivered uncontrollably.

“Are you cold?” Henry asked, sounding concerned.

“I'm uncomfortable,” she complained. “You'd better undo this thing on my ankle 'cause it really hurts.”

“If I do, you'll try to run. But I should warn you that there is nowhere to run to. We are in an isolated spot surrounded by woods, and you would be very foolish to attempt to leave.”

“I won't run,” she lied.

“Can I trust you?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

He produced the key and undid the shackle.

She rubbed her ankle, which was blistered and red. “I need disinfectant,” she said. “I can barely walk.”

“I'll see what I have,” he said, leaving the room, locking the sturdy door behind him.

Immediately after he was gone, she jumped off the bed and made it to the window. It was boarded up with strips of plywood on the outside. A quick exploration of the room did not give up anything that looked even remotely useful.

Crap! She'd been hoping for something—anything that she could use as a weapon when he returned. Smash him over the head and run. He wasn't holding his gun, and he looked like a weakling with his gimpy leg and scrawny build. She was sure she could take him.

Yes. She didn't need a weapon. She was strong, she'd taken self-defense classes.

Her plan was to catch him off guard, kick him hard in the balls—and run like hell.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The villa in Acapulco was Anthony's favorite home. He'd designed every detail of the three-story waterfront villa himself, from the Italian marble bathrooms (six) to the sunken black-bottomed infinity swimming pool overlooking Acapulco Bay.