Authors: Jackie Collins

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Drop Dead Beautiful (58 page)

BOOK: Drop Dead Beautiful

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“Where’re we goin’ tonight?” Cookie asked as she sat cross-legged on her messy bed picking at her green nail polish.

“There’s a rave for some old rock group at the House of Blues,” Harry said, speaking up. “’Spose we could crash if you’re up for it.”

Harry was the palest boy known to man, pallid-faced and skinny, with gelled and spiked hair dyed a ruthless black. It was only recently he’d emerged from the closet, although Max and Cookie had always known and totally accepted that he was gay. He had yet to come out to his controlling father who would probably disown him.

“No can stand the House of Blues,” Max opined, her brilliant green eyes flashing disapproval. “It’s always full of major wannabes, besides we’ll never make it into the Foundation Room.”

“Why not?” Cookie inquired, leaning over and reaching for a can of 7·UP balanced precariously on the edge of a table.

“Yeah, why not?” Harry repeated. “Thought you could get in anywhere.”

“Anywhere I
want
to,” Max answered pointedly, tossing back clouds of wavy black hair. “Who needs the freaking Foundation Room? It’s always full of ancient rockers gulping down handfuls of Viagra.
So
not cool.”

Cookie let forth a manic giggle. “I bet my dad takes Viagra,” she said, swigging 7·UP from the can. “Bet he pops those pills by the dozen.”

“All old guys do,” Harry said with a knowing smirk. “They can’t get it up without ‘em.”

“Gross-out!” Cookie squealed. “Don’t wanna think of my dad with a boner!”

Max decided that sometimes Cookie and Harry could be too much of a good thing. The three of them had grown up together, attended the same school, and shared some interesting sometimes frightening experiences, but in a way she felt she’d outgrown them. As soon as she was eighteen, she planned on making a break for New York and freedom. Not that her parents weren’t great, but the two of them were a lot to live up to. Lucky – who’d achieved absolutely everything she’d ever wanted. And Lennie, a multitalented writer/director who helmed all his own independent movies. Max was tired of being referred to as their daughter. Fed up with the pressure it put on her to do something spectacular with her life.

Big brother Bobby was her role model, Bobby had escaped and made his own way. He was definitely her inspiration, she adored him. Although now he had a permanent girlfriend, Denver Jones, and much as she reluctantly admired Denver, a Deputy D.A., she missed having Bobby all to herself when he was in L.A.

“Got it,” Max said at last. “Whyn’t we hit the Chateau for dinner? There’s always something going on there.”

“S’long as I don’t bump into my old man,” Cookie said, wrinkling her nose. “He’s got himself another dumbass girlfriend, an’ I think she stays at the Chateau when she’s in town.”

“What’s the deal with this one?” Max asked.

“English, complete with uptight accent and a bug up her ever so tight British ass,” Cookie said, making a disgusted face. “She thinks she’s like the second coming of Keira Knightley. As
if
.”

“Your old man sure covers the waterfront,” Harry remarked, pulling up the collar of his long Goth-like coat.

“Tell me about it,” Cookie said with a weary sigh. “I’ve had more almost step moms than you’ve had filthy thoughts about Chace Crawford!”

“Okay, okay,” Max said, interrupting them. She was into making fast decisions, not screwing around and vacillating about what to do. “We could check out a new club that opened a couple of weeks ago. River. I’m sure we can get in.”

“Lets do it,” Cookie said, fiddling with the dark chocolate brown dreadlocks that framed her exceptionally pretty face.

“D’you think Chace Crawford’ll be there?” Harry asked hopefully.

Max threw him a look. “Calm down,” she said. “Surely you know? Chace Crawford is
so
into girls.”

“That’s what they all say,” Harry muttered. “But I know better.”

“Lucky has invited us to Vegas next weekend,” Bobby Santangelo Stanislopoulos said, stretching his six foot three frame on Denver Jones’s shabby chic couch. “She’s planning a party for my sister Max’s eighteenth birthday, one of her big family events.”

Denver regarded her boyfriend of several months with slight trepidation. Oh, man, the longish black hair, dark eyes, Greek nose, and strong jaw line got her every time. If only he wasn’t so damn handsome. If only she hadn’t harbored a crush on him since high school. If only he wasn’t such a fantastic lover with all the right moves.

“Your mom intimidates me,” she said at last, stroking the belly of her dog, Amy Winehouse, who lay on its back making happy sounds. Amy was a mixed breed that she and her ex, Josh, had found wandering on Venice Beach. They’d named the dog Amy Winehouse because of its low throaty growl. Plus the fabulous Miz Winehouse was one of Denver’s favorite singers.

Bobby laughed, he had a fantastic laugh. Naturally. “C’
mon
,” he chided. “I’m sure Lucky thinks you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

Denver raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” she said coolly.

“Y’know what I mean.”

“The problem is, ” Denver said, desperately searching for a suitable excuse. “I’m moving over to the drug unit next week, so there’s a ton of stuff I feel I should research.”

“You’ll bring your laptop, that way you can do all the research you want. It’s a fourty-eight hour trip, sweetheart. I’m calling for the plane.”

She hated it when Bobby said things like – “I’m calling for the plane.” It was so elitist, so exactly who she wasn’t. Some girls might get off on all the luxury, but private planes, lavish parties, and hanging with Bobby’s illustrious family was not for her. Plus she wasn’t that fond of Vegas, and she hadn’t told Bobby – but she hated spending time at his ultra happening club, Mood. She especially hated the way women fawned all over him, and flirted outrageously, ignoring her as if she didn’t even exist.

The truth was that she loved Bobby. But she didn’t love the trappings that came with him.

Bobby stretched again and yawned. “Whaddya say?”

“I say I’ll think about it.”

“Sounds good,” he said, reaching up to pull her down on the couch beside him.

She acquiesced. It was early evening and they had no plans, so what was wrong with relaxing for the moment?

They’d been seeing each other on and off for the past three months. The on was when Bobby was in L.A. The off was when he had to spend time at his two clubs. Mood in Vegas, and Mood in New York. The on was the best of times. The off was missing him and wondering what he was doing, and trying to have some decent phone sex which left them both in a hysterical state of laughter.

Neither of them had uttered the L word. Although they had conducted the talk about being exclusive.

Both of them were wary about getting too involved. Secretly they couldn’t wait. But playing it semi-cool seemed to be the name of the game they were currently into.

Bobby began stroking her hair. Denver felt good about her hair, it was long and thick, chestnut brown with natural golden highlights. She knew that her hair was one of her best assets, along with her widely spaced hazel eyes and full lips. If she lived in any other big city she’d be considered a ten. In L.A. she felt she barely made it as a seven.

She was wrong.

Bobby’s hands moved down to her breasts, and with a quick move under her t-shirt he released her bra and began playing with her nipples. Oh yes, unusual for L.A., her breasts were actually real.

Sighing with anticipation, she leaned into him. It made no difference that they’d already made love in the morning. Desire was desire, and they were both in the mood.

Sometimes she couldn’t help wondering how long it would last. Her previous serious boyfriend, Josh, had been a pretty decent lover for the first six months of their three-year relationship, then after that it was a total slump.

“What’re you thinking?” Bobby whispered in her ear, giving her a little tongue action at the same time.

“That’s such a girly question,” she murmured, fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

“You calling me a girl?” he asked, mock serious.

“You do have
some
female tendencies,” she teased.

“Like
what?
” he responded, challenging her to come up with something.

“Oh,” she said vaguely, dragging his jeans down, delighted to find that he wasn’t wearing underwear. “You have soft lips…”

“All the better to kiss you with… ” And with one swift movement he flipped her so she was trapped beneath him. “Soft lips and a hard cock,” he joked. “How female is
that?
”

“Bobby!” she exclaimed.

Then the banter stopped and the passion began. He had a way of making love to her that forced her to lose every inhibition she’d ever possessed. One moment he was slowly caressing her, the next he was all hard driving action. The combination drove her nuts. She wanted more and more and more…

After it was over, they were spent, wrapped up in each other’s arms, sleepy and content.

Denver often wished that those precious times would last forever. Just the two of them. No outside world to interfere.

But the outside world was a big presence, and they both lived in it. Tomorrow Bobby was driving to Vegas before flying to New York for a few meetings. And she had her job as a Deputy D.A. to attend to, which right now was especially exciting and challenging since she was transferring to the drug unit. Once more they would be separated.

The good news was that she loved her job. It was extremely grueling work, but the end results were incredibly rewarding. She was so glad she’d changed tracks. From working at a high-powered law firm as a defense attorney, she’d scored a job as a Deputy D.A. prosecuting people, and she was thrilled with the switch. Why defend the probably guilty (One of her high-profile cases was a movie star who’d arranged his wife’s murder – then walked. He was the catalyst for her change of plan.) when she could be doing meaningful work – such as putting the bad guys behind bars? How rewarding to go after the dregs who distributed drugs and got kids hooked at an early age. Talk about job satisfaction!

“Hey,” Bobby said, “wanna catch a movie and grab a pizza?”

Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted to do. Normal activities with her man.

If only things could stay that way.

Somehow she had a strong suspicion that this was not the case.

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