Goddess of Vengeance (24 page)

Lurid thoughts of punishment crossed her mind. She could tell Lucky and Lennie that Billy had forced himself on her. Ha! If Lucky thought he’d done that she’d blow his balls off. Her mom took no prisoners, everyone knew that about Lucky.

Or . . . she could mention it to Bobby, who was practically ignoring her now that he had a steady girlfriend.

Crap! She hated the fact that Bobby seemed really into this Denver person. Why couldn’t he have just gone on being a player? Girls were always chasing after Bobby. With his dark good looks and appealing personality, he could take his pick. So why had
he
picked Denver?

After a while she decided it was time to assert her authority, show Denver who really mattered in Bobby’s life. ‘Big brother!’ she squealed, dashing toward him and flinging her arms around his neck. ‘I haven’t seen you in
ages.
I’ve missed you
sooo
much!’

A startled Bobby extracted himself from her cling. ‘You remember Denver?’ he said pointedly.

‘Oh yeah, sure,’ Max said, purposely making it sound like she didn’t.

‘Hello, Max,’ Denver said, already sensing trouble ahead. ‘It’s nice to see you again.’

‘Hey—’ Max said, with a vague wave in her direction.

Damnit
, Denver thought.
Now I’ve got to deal with a truculent teenager who is not at all thrilled I’ve hooked up with her brother, whom she obviously adores. Great start to a weekend I didn’t want to come on in the first place.

‘Will everyone please take their seats, turn off their cell phones and buckle up,’ Gitta announced. ‘We are preparing for take-off.’

Denver fastened her seat belt.

Bobby reached for her hand. ‘Happy flying, sweetheart. We’re about to set off on a memorable weekend. Prepare yourself for plenty of fun.’

The plane roared down the runway and soon they were on their way to Vegas.

*   *   *

‘Wassup with you, man?’ Kev inquired. ‘Your mind’s like on a trip somewhere in space.’

‘Yeah,’ Billy answered distractedly. ‘I’m kinda thinkin’ we might wanna make a Vegas pit stop.’

‘Vegas!’ Kev snapped to attention. Vegas was his kind of town. ‘I’m
way
down with that. When we gonna do it, bro?’

‘Today,’ Billy said, making a decision on the spot.

He’d been thinking about Max all morning. Truth was, he’d been thinking about her ever since Kev had dragged him out to a club the previous night, and as usual there’d been dozens of girls draping themselves all over him, but he simply wasn’t into any of them. He’d promised Max dinner, and somehow with Kev arriving unexpectedly, he’d allowed her to slip off, and that wasn’t what he’d wanted at all.

It was his own fault. She was so young that he’d gotten kind of scared and guilty; he hadn’t quite figured out how to handle the situation. Then Kev arriving had given him a convenient out. But after thinking about it, he hadn’t wanted a convenient out; what he’d really wanted was to spend more time with Max. Yes, she was young, but she was special and fresh, and maybe it was too soon to know – but he had this weird feeling that she was his soulmate, the girl he was supposed to be with.

And yet . . . he’d let her go, and now she was probably pissed at him, for girls were sensitive in that way. Especially as the sex they’d had together was her first time.

He was mad at himself. And how to make it up to her?

Vegas. Her birthday. Show her that he cared.

Not that he could simply turn up unannounced at her birthday party, that would not fly at all. He could imagine Lucky’s face if she got even a tiny hint that he was screwing her daughter. And Lennie too.

But . . . he could be in Vegas and meet up with Max on the sly. Lucky didn’t have to know.

It seemed like a way to go. He’d do it, and he’d take Kev along for the ride.

*   *   *

After breakfast with Venus, Lucky set off for her meeting with Jeffrey Lonsdale and the people from Jordan Developments. Since she didn’t have any current projects in mind, she wasn’t at all sure why she’d agreed to meet with them. Raising money was never a problem, but Jeffrey seemed to think that they might be useful if, for instance, she decided to build a version of The Keys in Atlantic City or any other big American city where gambling was legal. Jeffrey never allowed her to invest a dime of her own money. Not that he was in control, but she always listened to his sage advice. Jeffrey was smart.

Danny arrived to escort her to her office.

‘Newsflash,’ Danny announced, looking all pleased with himself.

‘What?’ Lucky asked, striding to the elevator, chic in black leather pants, boots, and a cashmere shell top, her long hair wild and falling around her shoulders, large yellow diamond studs affixed to her earlobes.

‘It’s juicy,’ Danny exclaimed, hopping to keep up with her.

‘Give it up, Danny, or shut it up,’ Lucky said.

‘The perv in the Presidential Suite I was telling you about earlier is the man you’re on your way to meet.’

‘Huh?’

‘Armand Jordan. Jordan Developments.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘One and the same.’

‘Remind me again what the story was.’

‘Apparently,’ Danny said, savouring every morsel, ‘Mr Jordan hired a couple of expensive call girls – made them do all kinds of unspeakable acts – then refused to pay extra for ah . . . certain acts that apparently require more money.’

‘Nice.’

‘Are you sure you should meet with him?’

‘Why not?’ Lucky replied with a casual shrug. ‘It’s quite likely I can embarrass him into paying up. Wouldn’t
that
be fun.’

‘And you’d do that, wouldn’t you?’ Danny said, delighted at the prospect of watching his boss in action.

Lucky grinned. ‘Working girls deserve every red cent they make. Maybe I should consider it my good deed for the day. Whaddya think, Danny?’

‘Oh yes, I think definitely yes!’

*   *   *

Cruising down the highway with Cookie’s head in his lap, and his cock in her mouth, Frankie couldn’t have felt more on top of the world.

What could be better than this? Cee Lo Green – loud and sexy on the sound system. The hot sun burning down on them. The smooth thrust of his Corvette as the speedometer hit 80. Plus the insane sensation of holding back from what he knew was about to be a mind-shattering orgasm.

Man, Frankie was flying and then some.

Until . . . the goddamn siren. The cop car drawing alongside them. And a red-faced motherfucker of a cop frantically signalling for him to pull over.

He did so, and the cop marched up to his window.

‘Sorry, officer,’ Frankie said, attempting to seem contrite. ‘Music too loud?’

‘Licence and registration,’ Angry Cop said. ‘And get out the car.’ He peered suspiciously over at Cookie. ‘You too.’

Cookie, who was busy applying a fresh layer of sticky lip-gloss, frowned. ‘What’ve
I
done?’ she asked petulantly.

‘Lewd behaviour in a moving vehicle,’ Angry Cop announced. ‘I’m thinking of booking both of you.’

Frankie tried to remember where he’d stashed the coke and the grass and the pills he’d brought along on the trip – the main reason he hadn’t wanted to fly. Then he remembered that all his drugs were in his overnight bag along with his shaving kit.

Oh shit, this could still be bad.

As Cookie climbed out of the car, Angry Cop gave her a hard piercing look. ‘How old are you?’ he demanded. ‘And have you been drinking?’

*   *   *

Once they were airborne, Denver decided to make an effort to be nice to Bobby’s truculent little sister. She moved over to sit next to her. ‘Bobby tells me you’re planning on relocating to New York,’ she said. ‘Sounds like an exciting thing to do.’

Max grunted.

‘Any idea what you want to do when you get there?’ Denver asked, persevering.

Another grunt.

‘Well, anyway,’ she continued, ‘I bet your mom’ll miss you. I know my mom was very upset when I moved out, and
we
were living in the same city, so you can imagine.’

No reaction at all.

Denver gave up. Screw it. What did she care if Bobby’s sister approved of her or not. It was quite obvious that Max felt she had dibs on her brother, and woe betide any girl who came too close.

Bobby was sitting up front talking music with Paco, while Harry sat listening to them, his pale face full of rapt attention.

‘If you want, while we’re in Vegas, you can spin at my club for a couple of hours,’ Bobby offered. ‘Always searching out new talent, and a happening deejay makes all the difference.’

Harry nodded enthusiastically. ‘Paco’s the best,’ he announced proudly. ‘You’ll definitely want to hear what he can do.’

‘I already got a gig in Vegas,’ Paco said, polite and nervous at the same time. ‘But spinnin’ at your club would be an honour.’

‘We’ll figure something out,’ Bobby said, grabbing Denver’s arm as she came over and settled into the seat next to him. ‘This girl’s into Adele, Winehouse, Mayer. Not me – I’m into everything,’ he added, squeezing her hand.

‘Ah yes, that’s me,’ Denver said wryly. ‘The girl who’s into mellow.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Paco said earnestly, trying to hide his excitement at actually sitting with these people on a private plane. His family, who all resided in the Bronx, would never believe him. ‘The mix is what matters. Rap, Cuban, rock, mellow – it all works together. That’s the way you get people on the floor.’

‘You see?’ Denver said, shooting Bobby a look. ‘This guy knows what he’s talking about.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I see,’ Bobby said, still grinning.

Hani came by carrying Mimosas in tall glasses. Bobby handed one to Denver, then took one for himself.

‘Here’s to the weekend, babe,’ he said, clinking glasses. ‘We’re gonna have a great time.’

Denver smiled and realized that she was hopelessly, happily, deeply, in love.

‘I’ll drink to that,’ she said softly.

And suddenly she was delighted she’d agreed to come on this weekend.

*   *   *

Once more they were on the move, Frankie’s Corvette roaring down the highway at full speed. Somehow or other Cookie had convinced Angry Cop they were on their way to get married, and that the sex thing he’d thought he’d seen wasn’t what it looked like, and that her daddy – Gerald M., yes,
the
Gerald M. – was waiting to greet them along with several camera crews and a shitload of paparazzi – only she didn’t say shitload, she cooled it with the language.

At first Angry Cop didn’t believe she was Gerald M.’s daughter, but she had proof – several photos of them together on her iPad, and a copy of his latest CD in her purse. She carried it with her at all times for just such an occasion.

Angry Cop’s wife was a fan, so Angry Cop wasn’t so angry any more, and after a short lecture on road safety, he sent them on their way with a warning to be more careful in the future.

‘You should be a freakin’ actress,’ Frankie exclaimed, full of genuine admiration. ‘That little performance you just put on was insane!’

‘I know,’ Cookie said with a less than modest giggle. ‘I’m the real shit, right?’

‘You bet your ass,’ Frankie agreed.

‘My dad taught me t’use his name whenever it would get me outta trouble. There’s gotta be
some
perks to being his kid.’

‘Your dad sounds like a smart dude.’

‘Not so much. When it comes to pussy he’s a total douche.’

‘I’d still like to meet him,’ Frankie said, thinking of the possibilities.

‘One of these days,’ Cookie answered vaguely.

‘Well anyway, I’m impressed,’ Frankie said. ‘I thought we were definitely gettin’ busted.’

Cookie giggled again. ‘That’s the fifth CD I’ve used as payoff. It works every time.’

‘Yeah?’ Frankie said. ‘So tell me – how many dudes you bin caught givin’ head to in a movin’ vehicle?’

‘Wouldn’t
you
like to know,’ she murmured mysteriously.

No. Actually he wouldn’t. Some things were best left unsaid.

*   *   *

Feeling sorry for herself, Max decided a Mimosa was a fine idea. So even though she didn’t usually drink, she downed two, and immediately felt light-headed.

Too bad. Nobody cared. Bobby was too busy with his girlfriend to notice, while Harry was totally locked into Paco who didn’t seem at all gay – so what was
that
about? Was Harry delusional? Or had something actually taken place? She hadn’t bothered to ask him, she was too caught up with all the drama in her own life.

Tears threatened to flow.
Snap out of it
, she warned herself.
Get a grip and stop acting like a girl. You’re a Santangelo. Suck it up. So you had a one-nighter with Billy Melina. Big freaking deal.

They hadn’t used protection.

Dumb.

Super dumb.

What if she was pregnant?

The very thought shocked her sober, and she moved as far away from everyone as possible, strapped herself into a seat, closed her eyes, and attempted to shut out the world.

*   *   *

‘I must say, you certainly know how to put me together with the classiest of people,’ Lucky complained to Jeffrey when they met up in her office adjacent to the conference room.

‘What are you talking about?’ Jeffrey asked, looking puzzled.

‘These Jordan Development people,’ Lucky said, tossing back her hair.

‘Yes?’ Jeffrey said, clearing his throat.

‘Apparently they’re into hooker paradise and not paying.’

Jeffrey adjusted the heavy old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses he always wore to business meetings. ‘Is there some information I should know about?’ he asked, uncomfortable that Lucky apparently knew things he didn’t.

‘Yes,’ Lucky said, moving behind her oversized Art Deco desk and sitting down. ‘If I know it, so should you.’

Jeffrey pulled up a leather chair opposite her desk. ‘And how do we know this?’ he inquired.

‘We know,’ Lucky replied, tapping her fingers on the desk, ‘because Danny is the eyes and ears of everything that goes on in my hotel. Right, Danny?’

Danny, who was busy setting up his laptop at a side table so he could record every detail of the upcoming meeting, nodded.