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Authors: Jackie Collins

Tags: #Romance, #Murder, #Contemporary Women, #Upper class, #Murder - California - Beverly Hills, #Collins; Jackie - Prose & Criticism, #Beverly Hills, #General, #Fiction - General, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Upper class - California - Beverly Hills, #Suspense, #Beverly Hills (Calif.), #California, #Fiction, #Literature & Fiction

Poor Little Bitch Girl (27 page)

BOOK: Poor Little Bitch Girl
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As if she would. She was hardly likely to confide in disapproving Muriel or the new male intern who wore patent leather shoes a size too large and an ill-fitting button-down Oxford shirt.

Gregory’s words echoed in her head.
Take the main highway over the bridge and follow Route 105. Turn off at exit 10, and drive approximately fifteen minutes until you reach the abandoned Shell station. Wait there until I contact you.

She had a hunch she knew exactly what he had planned. He was arranging to meet her somewhere quiet, out of sight of prying eyes, and then he was taking her to view a house.

Yes! What else could the surprise be?

It was a no-brainer. Gregory was planting the seeds of their new life together.

She was sure of it.

 
Chapter Thirty-One

Bobby

M
.J.’s new girlfriend, Cassie, was a miniature version of a younger Janet Jackson. Heartbreakingly pretty with a pocket Venus figure, she was only eighteen and trying hard to crash the music business.

Bobby took M.J. to one side while they waited for Brigette to arrive at the private airport. “Holy shit! She’s a baby!” he exclaimed. “Jeez, M.J., she’s almost the same age as Max. What’re you thinkin’?”

“I’m thinking that I’ve finally found The One,” M.J. responded. “Nothin’ wrong with that – you should try it sometime.”

“We’re taking her across state lines,” Bobby pointed out. “Is it even legal?”

“Hey, bro, she’s eighteen not twelve,” M.J. snapped. “An’ I’d kinda appreciate it if you’d quit with the comments an’ get with the program.”

“Fine,” Bobby grumbled. “Baby snatch, what do I care?”

He and M.J. had been friends since eighth grade. M.J. had always been a player, girls loved him, but as far as Bobby was concerned his friend was way too young to start settling down; it wasn’t cool. Bobby had to admit that M.J. and Cassie made a great-looking couple, and Cassie seemed sweet – although sweet wasn’t usually M.J.’s type. He liked them sassy and sexy.

Brigette arrived late as usual – a trait she’d inherited from Olympia, her deceased mother. Olympia had been Bobby’s half-sister, and even though Brigette was ten years older than him, he was indeed her uncle – a fact they laughed about a lot.

“You’re late,” he said, announcing the obvious.

“I know,” she said with a big unapologetic grin.

Bobby was pleased to note that Brigette seemed happy – it must be the new boyfriend’s influence.

A tall, athletic blonde emerged from Brigette’s limo. A female blonde with short cropped hair, broad shoulders, a healthy tan and a wide smile.

Brigette grabbed the woman’s hand. “Bobby,” she announced, beaming, “I want you to meet Kris. She’s the woman who put a smile back on my face. Isn’t she amazing?”

* * *

All the way on the flight to Vegas Bobby kept thinking about what Lucky would have to say about this unexpected turn of events. Brigette changing tracks was quite a surprise, although when he thought about it he wasn’t that shocked. After all, Brigette had experienced quite a parade of losers and psychos – all of them men – so maybe with a woman she’d have more luck. She was certainly happy enough and she looked fantastic. She and Kris were joking around like a couple of teenagers.

Kris was a pro tennis player and quite successful. “We met in the Hamptons at the P. Diddy All-White Party,” Brigette revealed. “I was with an out-of-work actor who’d decided I was just the ticket to pay all his bills – including his ex-wife’s alimony – and Kris had recently broken up with her long-time girlfriend.”

“We’d been together eight years,” Kris chimed in. “She wanted a marriage license and a baby. All I wanted was out.”

“Neither of us were looking—”

“Until we looked in each other’s direction,” Kris interrupted.

“And then,” Brigette added with a shy giggle, “it was a lightning strike. I knew immediately that Kris would change my life – and although we’ve only been together since the summer, she has.”

Kris squeezed Brigette’s hand and then concentrated on Bobby for a moment. “I’m so happy to finally meet you,” she said. “I know her family means a lot to Brigette, so when the opportunity came up to make this trip together – we both said a resounding yes! I can’t wait to meet the rest of the family.”

“You will,” Bobby said, glancing at M.J. and Cassie, who were all over each other.

It seemed he was the odd one out. By himself. No significant other.

All he had was the hots for a famous superstar who’d used him for stud service. Nice.

* * *

The last thing Bobby expected to see as the eight-passenger extra-long silver limo took them from the airport to The Keys complex, was a huge billboard of Zeena on the strip heralding a one night only appearance at the Cavendish Hotel. She was due to appear the following night.

Jeez! Was there no escape?

The Cavendish – a successful boutique hotel – was located right next to The Keys, and the owners – a lesbian couple – were good friends of Lucky and Lennie.

It occurred to Bobby that tomorrow night he and his group would be sitting ringside at the Cavendish watching Zeena perform. It was a hunch, but if he knew Lucky she’d already set it up as a fun thing to do. When guests visited Vegas, Lucky always made sure they were treated to the best entertainment going.

So . . . if that was the case, what was he planning on doing?

He’d go, of course. Watch Zeena perform. No big deal, she wouldn’t even know he was there. He’d be sitting in the audience like any other fan.

“Oh, look!” Cassie exclaimed, leaning out the window and checking the billboard. “Zeena’s appearing here tomorrow night. I love her! M.J., can we go?”

She could have asked him to strip naked and run down the street, for M.J. was in the land of the besotted.

“Sure, sweetie, I’ll try to get tickets,” M.J. promised.

“Lucky’s probably already got ’em,” Bobby remarked.

“Or if she hasn’t, why don’t
you
call Zeena?” M.J. suggested. “She’s always eyeballin’ you like you’re her next steak dinner.”

It threw Bobby that M.J. had noticed and not mentioned a word until now.

“You think?” he said, playing it major cool.

“C’mon, bro,” M.J. said, riding him. “You know as well as I do that Zeena’s got a thing for you. She wants your body, man. She wanna ravish your fine ass.”

“Didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, sure,” M.J. said, winking at Cassie. “
You
didn’t notice, but everyone else in the club did.”

“Wow!” Cassie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Zeena is awesome!”

“And bi-sexual,” Kris added, joining in the conversation. “I must say – I do like a woman who can’t quite make up her mind.”

If they only knew
, Bobby thought.

Before he could think about it further, their limo began pulling into The Keys complex.

 
Chapter Thirty-Two

Annabelle

B
reakfast in the Polo Lounge with a hungover Frankie took care of Annabelle’s morning. She pushed Eggs Benedict around her plate while tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.

“Can’t wait to get back to New York,” she muttered.

Frankie raised his retro Ray-Bans revealing bloodshot eyes. “
’C’mon
, this place rocks, babe,” he said, full of enthusiasm. “You shoulda come with, last night. I’m tellin’ you – it was a major scene. You really missed out.”

“I’m sure I did,” Annabelle answered primly, clearly forgetting about her own crazed teenage years, “I’m well aware of the L.A. scene. Decrepit old dudes on the make with Viagra fever, and moronic underage girls flashing their lack of underwear. Lovely!”

“Sounds like our kinda town t’me,” Frankie quipped, gulping down a glass of fresh orange juice. “Y’know babe, we could clean up here. Far as I can tell, it’s ours for the taking.”

“Why would we want L.A. when we’ve got New York?” Annabelle said, frowning.

“Expansion, babe. That’s what business is all about.”

“But Frankie,” she argued, determined to change his mind, “surely you understand that we need to be hands-on? We can’t run our business from another city.”

“Then we should consider spending more time in L.A.,” he said, getting off on the thought. “We’ll bring in someone like Janey to run things when we’re
not
here.”

“Sure,” Annabelle murmured sarcastically. “There’s a Janey lurking around every corner.”

“I’ll find someone,” Frankie insisted. “You know me, I can sniff ’em out.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t be satisfied with what we’ve got going,” Annabelle said, wishing he wasn’t so damn stubborn.

“’Cause I want more, babe,” he explained. “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Annabelle pushed her plate away. Frankie was starting to bug her again. Why was he so set on L.A. when he knew she hated it?

She glanced at her watch. Where was Denver? Thank God she had someone she could depend on to get her through this mess.

Annabelle’s memories of Denver at school were fuzzy. She vaguely remembered that they’d hung out for a while, but Denver hadn’t been up for clubbing and shopping – she’d always put schoolwork and her family first, plus she’d never had money to burn. Come to think of it, Denver had been a total drudge.

It didn’t matter because she was here now, and Annabelle needed her for support since it was becoming painfully obvious that Frankie could not be depended on.

“Isn’t that Mel Gibson?” Frankie asked, lowering his voice as the famous actor strode past their table. “Jeez! The dude looks great.”

“Who cares?” Annabelle said, tossing her hair back. “And what was all that fan crap going on with you and Ralph last night? Have you any idea how dumb you sounded?”

The word “dumb” did not sit well with Frankie. “What’s crawled up
your
ass this morning?” he demanded.

“Apparently not you,” Annabelle responded, refusing to look at him.

“What does
that
mean?”

“It means we seem to be growing apart,” she said, gazing off into space.

Frankie was silent for a moment while his mind computed what was going on. His girlfriend was getting all snarky on him, and he didn’t appreciate it. He realized she was upset about her mother – even though
she
didn’t seem to know it – but that was no reason to take it out on him. They were finally in L.A. and they should be enjoying every minute, instead of which they were at each other’s throats.

He decided to save the day, turn on the Frankie Romano charm, lure her back into the best relationship she was ever likely to experience.

“Y’know what?” he said. “We’re both tense, it’s been a helluva few days. But you do know how much I love you – right, babe?” Leaning over, he nuzzled her neck exactly the way he knew turned her on. “Tonight I’m takin’ you for dinner, just the two of us. An’ then . . .”

“Frankie . . .” she began to say, making a half-hearted attempt to push him away.

“Don’t even bother arguing,” he said firmly. “You’re right, we need some alone time. Leave it to me, babe, I’m gonna arrange everything.”

BOOK: Poor Little Bitch Girl
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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