Love Play by Rosemary Rogers (2 page)

'Here, watch me again - and try not to choke. It's easy, really and it
won't hurt you, I promise. This is good stuff, it'll just make you feel real
mellow and kind of laid back, you know?'

She didn't know, Sara thought defiantly, but she intended to find out!
After all, she'd read enough to know
 
that
 
marijuana, in small doses,
wasn't harmful - not as bad for one as cigarettes or alcohol.'

 
She coughed after the first drag
and managed to hold the next one quite creditably. Nothing happened. Delight
had refilled their wineglasses and Sara sipped the chilled Chablis, wondering
if she was disappointed or relieved.

Braver now, she took another drag before Delight, producing a silver
roach clip shaped like a crocodile, finished it off.

'Feel a buzz yet? Oh, well, you will real soon. Let me turn the music up
a little, it always sounds better after you've done grass.'

There was a whole new vocabulary she'd have to learn, Sara thought,
settling back more comfortably on the big cushion as Delight began, at last, to
tell her all about Carlo, how they'd met, and how impossible his older brother
was. The wine sparkled enchantingly in her crystal glass, and the music was
wonderful — soothing, with an undertone of-fierceness at the same time - a
swelling and a diminishing of sound. Wagner had never sounded so beautiful
before, nor had she, Sara, ever felt so relaxed.

'What's his name?' she demanded suddenly, wanting Delight to know she
was really paying attention.

'Whose?'

'Big brother's . . . what did you say his name was?'

'Oh, him! The overbearing, arrogant - Giovanni. Big bad John!' Delight
giggled. 'Only don't ever let Carlo know I called him that. Carlo really looks
up to him, I think he's even a little bit scared of him. It's Giovanni Marco
Riccardo Marcantoni - can you imagine a name like that? Carlo has two other
names too, I guess it's a custom or something, but no one ever calls him
anything but Carlo, and it suits him. It's a beautiful name and he's a
beautiful person, unlike his brother who lords it over everyone just because he
happened to be the firstborn and a conte or a duke or something equally silly —
I mean who gives a damn about titles any more? And everyone knows that Italian
titles are a dime a dozen, some stupid society woman is always marrying one and
I mean . . . what was I saying?'

'You were saying that this ... big bad Marco or whoeverhad to approve of
you before he gives Carlo permission to..." Sara sat up straight, brushing
her hair away from her eyes, which had begun to flash angrily. 'Why does Carlo
have to have his brother's permission for anything? How old is he anyway? Isn't
he man enough to stand up for what he wants?'

'I was just telling you, they're Italian, and Giovanni Marco - they call
him Marco within the family, how'd you guess? - as the head of the family runs
the whole show. He's the one who made most of the money, you see, and he
controls everything. He's into automobiles and shipping and... you name a pie
and he has a finger in it! He's rich, and Carlo works for him. He's also quite
ruthless . . .' Delight gave an exaggerated shiver as she lowered her voice
dramatically. 'In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's even mixed up
with the . . . you-know-who. The mob.'

'You mean the Mafia? Oh, no, Delight, surely not!'

'I'm not sure at all... and of course Carlo would never say anything,
and it's the one thing I'd never dare ask him about. But I have my suspicions
... and he did tell me once that his brother would stop at nothing to gain his
ends. So you see what we're up against, and why you've just got to help? Sara,
I'm afraid he's going to try and break us up, and I'd just kill myself if that
happened, and so would Carlo!' Delight's huge emerald eyes that were so like
Mona's filled with tears.

'But why would he want to break you up, even if he could?'

'Because . . . because he's a straitlaced prigl' Delight wailed.
'They're strict Catholics, of course, the whole family, and Marco's the type
who believes in work, work, work and no play, and when the time comes around -
and that'll be when he says so, of course - then Carlo will be expected to
marry some stupid cow of a girl his brother will choose for him from one of the
right families, with money, of course, and without - ' her voice quivered over
an incipient sob - 'without my lurid past! Everything I've done - all that
stuff in those nasty rags and the gossip columns She coughed after the first
drag and managed to hold the next one quite creditably. Nothing happened.
Delight had refilled their wineglasses and Sara sipped the chilled Chablis,
wondering if she was disappointed or relieved.

Braver now, she took another drag before Delight, producing a silver
roach clip shaped like a crocodile, finished it off.

'Feel a buzz yet? Oh, well, you will real soon. Let me turn the music up
a little, it always sounds better after you've done grass.'

There was a whole new vocabulary she'd have to learn, Sara thought,
settling back more comfortably on the big cushion as Delight began, at last, to
tell her all about Carlo, how they'd met, and how impossible his older brother
was. The wine sparkled enchantingly in her crystal glass, and the music was
wonderful — soothing, with an undertone of-fierceness at the same time - a
swelling and a diminishing of sound. Wagner had never sounded so beautiful
before, nor had she, Sara, ever felt so relaxed.

'What's his name?' she demanded suddenly, wanting Delight to know she
was really paying attention.

'Whose?'

'Big brother's . . . what did you say his name was?'

'Oh, him! The overbearing, arrogant - Giovanni. Big bad John!' Delight
giggled. 'Only don't ever let Carlo know I called him that. Carlo really looks
up to him, I think he's even a little bit scared of him. It's Giovanni Marco
Riccardo Marcantoni - can you imagine a name like that? Carlo has two other
names too, I guess it's a custom or something, but no one ever calls him
anything but Carlo, and it suits him. It's a beautiful name and he's a
beautiful person, unlike his brother who lords it over everyone just because he
happened to be the firstborn and a conte or a duke or something equally silly —
I mean who gives a damn about titles any more? And everyone knows that Italian
titles are a dime a dozen, some stupid society woman is always marrying one and
I mean . . . what was I saying?'

'You were saying that this ... big bad Marco or whoever had to approve
of you before he gives Carlo permission to..." Sara sat up straight,
brushing her hair away from her eyes, which had begun to flash angrily. 'Why
does Carlo have to have his brother's permission for anything? How old is he
anyway? Isn't he man enough to stand up for what he wants?'

'I was just telling you, they're Italian, and Giovanni Marco - they call
him Marco within the family, how'd you guess? - as the head of the family runs
the whole show. He's the one who made most of the money, you see, and he
controls everything. He's into automobiles and shipping and... you name a pie
and he has a finger in it! He's rich, and Carlo works for him. He's also quite
ruthless . . .' Delight gave an exaggerated shiver as she lowered her voice
dramatically. 'In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's even mixed up
with the . . . you-know-who. The mob.'

'You mean the Mafia? Oh, no, Delight, surely not!'

'I'm not sure at all... and of course Carlo would never say anything,
and it's the one thing I'd never dare ask him about. But I have my suspicions
... and he did tell me once that his brother would stop at nothing to gain his
ends. So you see what we're up against, and why you've just got to help? Sara,
I'm afraid he's going to try and break us up, and I'd just kill myself if that
happened, and so would Carlo!' Delight's huge emerald eyes that were so like
Mona's filled with tears.

'But why would he want to break you up, even if he could?'

'Because . . . because he's a straitlaced prigl' Delight wailed.
'They're strict Catholics, of course, the whole family, and Marco's the type who
believes in work, work, work and no play, and when the time comes around - and
that'll be when be says so, of course - then Carlo will be expected to marry
some stupid cow of a girl his brother will choose for him from one of the right
families, with money, of course, and without - ' her voice quivered over ar?
incipient sob - 'without my lurid past! Everything I've done - all that stuff
in those nasty rags and the gossip columns and the pictures ... oh,you know
what I mean, Sary, and you know I only did it all for kicks and for experience,
but he'd never buy that! Carlo understands and doesn't care, but his brother
never would! So you see why I do need you so!'

'No, I don't, not really!' Sara objected reasonably, trying not to let
Delight notice that the use of the old childhood name 'Sary' had got to her.
She had to blink her eyes in order to focus them on Delight, sitting
cross-legged so easily without any sign of strain; two large tears trickling
forlornly down her face. Poor, darling Delight! Of course she was reckless and
a little bit wild and wayward, but that was part of her nature and part of her
charm - she just did things without thinking of the consequences, but that
didn't give any stuffy, arrogant outsider the right to look down on her either!

Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Sara hadn't been paying attention to
what Delight was saying until her sister said urgently: '. . . so you see why
Carlo and I have to run away and do it secretly, to throw him off the track!
And if you'd just cover for me . . .'

I really feel quite strange! Sara thought dazedly. Not bad strange but
funny strange. Kind of floaty . . .

Aloud she said stoutly, hoping she wasn't slurring her words, 'Of course
you know you can count on me, darling! I' ll take care of Mr High-and-rnighty
Marco ... yes, and I'll give him a bit of what-for too if he dares say anything
against you!' And then she couldn't help giggling, because 'what-for' had been
Nanny Staggs's favourite expression, especially when Delight came to visit:
'You come down from off that tree, miss, or I'll give you what-for!'

'Oh, Sary, I do love you! I told Carlo you'd do it!'

Warm arms hugged her fiercely until Sara said weakly: 'And now it's all
decided, do you think you can show me the way to bed? I feel very sleepy, all
of a sudden!'

Chapter 2

Discovering New York and rediscovering Delight was a continuous,
kaleidoscopic play of light, colour and activity that never seemed to stop.
They went everywhere, saw everything, ate at obscure little restaurants in the
Village and the most elegant dining-rooms Manhattan had to offer. There was
endless shopping to be done in the afternoons and the theatre in the evenings;
Broadway shows and off-Broadway shows — the Met and the Philharmonic. Delight
made New York City come alive and become a real place for Sara, who could not
have imagined its hectic, electric pulsebeat by herself.

Sara learned to stay up all night, snatching a few hours of sleep before
she was ready to go again. And she learned to disco all night at elegant places
like Regine's and popular fad places like Bond's Casino and Magique and Xenon
and way-out places like the Mudd Club.

'Don't New Yorkers ever stop going?' Sara asked wonderingly and had her
rather naive question answered by a giggle.

'Hardly ever, sweetie! There's always so much to do, you see! And I
never get tired — it's my vitamins and health food that do the trick! How's
your energy level? And how did you like Carlo's friend Giacomo? I could tell he
dug you!'

'Don't matchmake, Delight!' Sara said severely, and her sister rolled
her eyes upwards in mock despair.

'For God's sake, who's matchmaking? I mean... he liked you, and you
liked him, right? So you could have asked him up — I would've slept on the
couch, you know!'

'I didn't like him that much, and anyway he had a wet kiss, like Eduardo
. ..'

'Aha! Eduardo, huh? So you have been around some. Thank God, I was
beginning to wonder!'

Learning to talk like a native, Sara said, 'Oh, cut it out, Delight!'
adding quickly, 'When do you expect to hear from your divine Carlo anyhow?
Shouldn't he have called to give you a report?'

She was sorry she'd said that when Delight's vivacious, face clouded for
an instant.

'Big brother's probably keeping him busy - on purpose, of course! He
only flew to Los Angeles because he'd heard the rumours, you know. And now he's
probably giving my poor Carlo a hard time. But Carlo's got a stubborn streak in
him, just like I have, and this time he's not going to give in. I'll hear from
him, you'll see!'

'Well, I was just thinking that it might be hard for him to reach you on
the telephone since we've hardly been home!'

'He'll call me at about six some morning - that's the time he always
calls when he has to be away.'

Delight was sure of her Carlo, still steadfastly In Love and just as
steadfast in her resolve to elope. Sara couldn't help sighing inwardly as she
wondered, with her practical mind, whether such an elaborate plan as her sister
had outlined was really necessary. Whether the Marcantoni family was
old-fashioned or not, this was still the twentieth century, after all, and all
Carlo had to do was to tell his brother to ... to go to hell!

Since that first night they'd spent quietly talking in the apartment,
the volatile Delight - taking Sara's participation in her plans for granted -
hadn't said much more on the subject. Now, as they shared the same tiny
bathroom, Delight applying her make-up while Sara soaked in a tub that was
deliciously perfumed with Halston, Sara found herself hoping fervently that it
would all be worked out quietly in the end. Delight, bless her heart, did tend
to over-dramatise things!