Lady Boss (33 page)

Johnny's faithful entourage hovered two steps behind him.

‘Mr. Stolli had to go out,' Lucky said.

‘Shame,' exclaimed Johnny. ‘I thought I'd visit him. Celebrate.'

‘What are you celebrating, Mr. Romano?' she asked politely.

‘My movie, sweet stuff. It opens this week. Don't you keep up around here?
Motherfaker
's gonna make this studio the biggest bucks it's ever seen.' He leaned across her desk, his handsome, arrogant face insolently close to her. ‘
You
know what a motherfaker is, beautiful?'

Yeah, you, asshole
, she replied silently.

‘Well, do you?'

She shook her head.

Johnny Romano laughed.

His entourage laughed.

They waited for her to laugh.

Lucky stared at him blankly.

‘Hey, lady,' Johnny said, leaning even closer. ‘Lighten up. You're way too serious. Working for Mickey is a tough business, huh? You want my autograph?'

On my butt
, thought Lucky.

Without waiting for a reply, Johnny snapped his fingers. One of his entourage stepped forward with a signed photo.

‘Hey, I'm gonna make your day an' personalize it,' Johnny said magnanimously. ‘Gimme your name, baby.'

‘Luce,' she muttered.

‘Lucy. To Lucy. I'm gonna write “To Lucy”,' Johnny said, scrawling an illegible
To Lucy
on the picture,
Love and heart, Johnny Romano
was already stamped on.

He handed her the signed picture with a flourish. ‘Tell the man I was here,' he said. ‘An' enjoy yourself, you hear? Johnny Romano, he say so.'

Big fucking deal!

Suddenly Lucky knew what Mickey meant. Actors! You could have 'em!

When she took over, things were going to be different around here.

The telephone woke Gino at three in the morning.

‘We're having a baby,' Steven said urgently. ‘Can you get over to the hospital?'

Gino groped for his clothes. ‘We're having a baby,' he repeated delightedly.

‘Mary-Lou's in the delivery room now,' Steven said, sounding stressed.

‘I'm on my way,' Gino assured him.

‘Where's Lucky?'

‘I'll try and contact her.'

‘She should be here with us,' Steven said. ‘Mary-Lou's asking for her.'

Gino was elated. Much to his annoyance Bobby lived in England and he hardly ever saw him. Now Steven and Mary-Lou were presenting him with another grandchild. It was an exciting moment.

Hurriedly pulling on his clothes, he called down to the doorman and ordered a cab. Then he rushed out of his apartment.

Steven was pacing the floor of the hospital when he arrived.

Gino patted him on the shoulder. ‘You gotta calm down. Take a beat. This happens every day, y'know.'

‘Not to me,' Steven said grimly.

‘Shouldn't you be in there with her?'

‘She doesn't want me,' Steven said with a shrug. ‘Threw me out.'

‘How come?'

‘Her mother's with her. You know what mothers are like. She's an old-fashioned lady, doesn't want the husband there. Hey – I don't mind. Who
wants
to be there? It's a frightening business.'

Gino laughed. ‘I went through it twice,' he said. ‘When Lucky was born. And Dario. I wish I'd been there for you, Steven.'

It was a moment. Their eyes met and then they moved on.

‘Did you get hold of Lucky?' Steven asked.

‘I'm trying,' Gino replied. ‘Don't worry. She's not gonna miss being an aunt.'

Mary-Lou gave birth to a seven-pound ten-ounce little girl at eight o'clock in the morning. They named her Carioca Jade.

When Gino got back to his apartment he called Lucky in California and told her.

‘Oh, no!' she exclaimed. ‘The baby was early and I missed it! Are they both all right?'

‘They're fine,' he assured her. ‘Mary-Lou came through it like a veteran.'

‘I'll send flowers. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. The good news is I'll be back next week.'

‘What makes you think that?' he said. ‘You're takin' over the studio. That's when you're really gonna have to spend time in L.A.'

‘I guess you're right. But at least I'll be free to do what I want. I can fly into New York every weekend. I'll get Panther running smoothly and then…' Realization sunk in. ‘Oh God, it'll take me a while, won't it?'

‘Yup.'

‘Lennie will help me. He'll be ecstatic when he hears!'

Gino wasn't so sure. ‘Where is he?' he asked.

‘I'll worry about that when I take over.'

‘If you're certain,' Gino said.

‘I'm certain,' she replied.

* * *

Warner was trembling by the time Mickey finished making love to her. It gave him a great sense of power to have a six-foot black Vice cop trembling because he made love to her with such finesse. ‘Mickey, you're truly the best lover I ever had,' she told him ecstatically.

Funny, one of Madame Loretta's hookers had said the very same thing to him two days earlier. A man couldn't ask for any further proof than that. First the hooker, now Warner. He really must be something between the sheets. It was a shame Abigaile never told him.

He tried to remember the last time he and Abigaile had made love. It had something to do with her birthday and a diamond bracelet. And it wasn't making love, it was a blow-job. But don't knock a blow-job when you're married. Actually, in a town where blow-jobs had been elevated to a fine art, Abigaile was way up there.

He wondered where she'd learned. They'd really never discussed their past lives. To this day, Abigaile had no idea about his illegitimate son who lived with his ex-girlfriend just outside of Chicago.

Abigaile would not be pleased if she found out.

Mickey had no intention of ever telling her, although, to his credit, over the years he'd supported his son with a healthy monthly cheque. He'd promised his ex-girlfriend that the money would keep on flowing as long as she kept her mouth shut.

He'd never seen his son. It was a part of his past he kept locked away. He never wanted it to interfere with his future.

When he got up to take a shower, Warner remained spread-eagled on the bed like an impressive ebony carving. ‘I can't move,' she gasped. ‘You're too much man for me.'

If he was smothering her with furs and jewels he would have been suspicious of her words of praise. But Warner wanted nothing from him, so he was inclined to believe her.

He hurried into her small bathroom to take a shower.

Unfortunately she didn't have a shower, just an attachment above the tub, which really pissed him off.

‘You know something honey,' he yelled. ‘I gotta get you a new bathroom, I don't care what you say.'

‘No way, Mickey. You're not spending that kind of money on me.'

She walked into the bathroom stark-naked. She had breasts the like of which he'd never seen before. They were jutting and angular, with enormous black nipples. Edible tits.

The black girl at Madame Loretta's had small breasts, nothing like this. Warner's were straight out of a proud African tribe.

‘Did your parents come from Africa?' he asked.

Warner laughed. ‘No, downtown L.A.! Why?'

He reached out to touch one more time before struggling with the shower, nearly tripping and breaking his neck. Then he wrapped himself in a too small bathsheet, pummelled himself dry, dressed, and left.

At home Abigaile was on red alert. She glared at him. ‘Why do
I
have to do all the dirty work?'

He sighed. ‘What's the matter now?'

‘I saw my grandfather today. He's definitely not interested in selling. What made you think he would be? He's perfectly happy the way he is, and quite frankly, Mickey, we should be happy too. Because when he dies, Panther is ours, and we can do exactly as we please.'

‘Says you,' Mickey said sourly.

Abigaile was ready for battle. ‘What's
that
supposed to mean?'

‘Who knows
what
the old guy's gonna do?'

‘Well, exactly. That's why I have to talk to you about it. You mentioned the other day you were considering accepting a job elsewhere. If you do, who's going to run Panther? And more important – who will inherit Panther?'

‘
You'll
inherit, there's no question. You and your charming sister.'

‘Yes, I know, Mickey, but if somebody else is running the studio, it could create problems.' She shook her head, making the decision for both of them. ‘You're going to have to turn Martin Swanson down.'

‘Abigaile, I am
not
saying no to Martin Swanson if it means more money.'

‘Why? You're making a million dollars a year, plus whatever you can steal. Isn't that enough?'

He looked at her in disgust. ‘Thanks a lot. It's great to have a really supportive wife. I thrive on the support you give me, Abigaile.'

She took his sarcasm and swallowed it. ‘Thank you, Mickey. I aim to please.'

Effie Webster loved giving parties. They were an important part of her life. She couldn't imagine not giving them. After all, Effie and Yul Webster were famous for their parties.

Half the fun was putting together an eclectic mix. Anyone from starving actors and artists to successful Broadway producers. Or maybe not-so-starving artists.

Effie knew everyone. Planning a party for Martin Swanson's birthday was not difficult, because Martin and Deena knew everyone, too. The hard part was who not to invite.

Effie decided a theme party would be fun. She sent out black invitations with gold printing:
COME AS YOUR FAVOURITE FANTASY
. What a charming way to delve into the psyches of the rich and famous. ‘Come as your favourite fantasy' was an invitation to reveal your very secret self – an invitation most people couldn't resist.

Effie decided she was going to dress up as Queen Nefertiti. ‘Darling,' she informed Deena on the phone, ‘I've always wanted to be a queen, and this is a perfect opportunity. What are
you
coming as?'

Deena had given it a lot of consideration. ‘I've decided on Marlene Dietrich. The way she looked in
The Blue Angel
.'

‘Wonderful idea!' Effie exclaimed, wishing she'd thought of it. ‘With
your
legs you'll be a sensation! But I suppose that's the whole point, isn't it?'

‘Yes,' Deena agreed. ‘I suppose it is.'

She put down the phone and thought about Martin. He hadn't said a word about divorce. In fact, since he'd come back from L.A., he'd thrown himself into business, concentrating on his Swanson sports stadium, where he planned to stage the next world heavyweight fight if he could arrange it. And the new luxury automobile soon to be launched. The Swanson.

Martin was very excited about the Swanson. It was a sleek and powerful car – a car that represented everything he wanted the public to know about him.

Martin planned to present the Swanson at a big media publicity launch in Detroit.

Deena felt sure her errant husband wasn't going to jeopardize the anticipated publicity on the Swanson for a tawdry little slut like Venus Maria.

She tried to imagine what hold the girl had over him. It was sexual, of course.

But why? Martin wasn't particularly interested in sex.

Deena shook her head; she couldn't figure it out. She could only stand by, wait, and see what happened.

If the worst happened, she had her solution.

* * *

Brigette was excited about the party, although she didn't let on to Nona, who appeared to take it all very casually. To Brigette it was a return to the real world. She'd been shut up in boarding school for so long, and when she
was
allowed out it was always with Charlotte, who never took her anywhere. Now here she was, part of an exciting life again, back in the big city.

‘I can't make up my mind whether we should go or not,' Nona vacillated. ‘How about taking in a movie instead and skipping the party?'

‘I vote for the party.' Brigette was full of enthusiasm and dying to go. ‘It'll be a blast.'

‘My idea of a blast is
not
attending my parents' crazy parties.'

Finally Brigette got her to agree that it might be a laugh. The next question was, who would they go as?

‘I'll be Janet Jackson,' Nona decided.

‘That's not exactly easy to put together,' Brigette pointed out.

Nona thought about it. ‘Why not? I'll put on an incredible black makeup. And I'll wear a Janet Jackson wig, tight jeans, and a motorcycle jacket. I can borrow Paul's. He's coming to the party, you know.'

‘What's
his
favourite fantasy?' Brigette inquired, trying not to sound too interested.

‘Probably Picasso mixed with Donald Trump's money,' Nona replied dryly.

Eventually they decided it would be fun if they both dressed up as Venus Maria.

Nona giggled. ‘We'll blow everybody's mind!'

‘She's not going to be there, is she?' Brigette asked anxiously, thinking it wouldn't be too cool if she was.

‘You never know
who's
going to turn up at my parents' parties,' Nona answered.

They went on a wild shopping spree in the Village, running into places Effie would never dream of visiting. They arrived home with a selection of outlandish clothes, everything from long, army surplus overcoats to frilled miniskirts, leather bustiers, and midriff-exposing tops.

‘Venus Maria always puts together such a fantastic look,' Nona said, poring over an interview with Venus in one of the latest magazines. ‘I think she's great. It's obvious she doesn't give a damn about anybody.'