The Santangelos (30 page)

She was so mad at herself. Bobby must hate her for behaving like an unfeeling, jealous bitch.

Now what? Bobby was on his way back to L.A. Would he come to the house? Or had he had enough of her?

The overweight man sitting next to her on the plane attempted conversation. He smelled of stale cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave. She politely shut him down.

Her thoughts were flying everywhere. Not only had she ruined everything with Bobby, Leon was probably pissed as hell, not to mention her boss.

You screwed up big-time,
she scolded herself.
I thought you were supposed to be so damn smart
.

Yeah, smart as a fourth grader
.

Arriving at LAX, she decided not to go home. Instead she took a cab to Carolyn’s, thinking she might stay the night.

It was lesbian charade night, and eight pairs of female eyes stared curiously at her as Carolyn enacted a movie title in front of them.

The only person she knew was Carolyn’s partner, Vanessa, who got up and beckoned her into the kitchen.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Vanessa—a comely blond woman with a bountiful figure—said. “I am
so
over game night. I only suffer through it for Carolyn,” she added, reaching for a half-full bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter. She filled two glasses, one of which she thrust at Denver. “Drink up,” she encouraged. “You look as if you need it.”

“I do?” Denver said, thinking that, yes, a drink was exactly what she needed.

“So, sweet pea,” Vanessa said. “Carolyn tells me you’ve got a hunch that Bobby’s cheating on you.”

Oh my God,
Denver thought.
What is wrong with Carolyn? Why is she sharing
?

“All men are pigs,” Vanessa said with an affirmative nod. “You simply have to decide how much piggery you’re prepared to put up with.”

“Bobby is not a pig,” Denver said defensively.

“Handsome men are the worst cheaters of all,” Vanessa continued matter-of-factly. “They feel it’s their right. And I should know—I was married to the biggest cheater of all. He didn’t care if the sex was with a man or a woman. Lovely, huh?”

Denver tried to think of an exit strategy, for this was exactly the kind of conversation she did not wish to have, especially now when she was feeling so conflicted.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your game night,” she said quickly.

“Like I told you—I hate game night,” Vanessa complained, making a face. “And you, sweet pea, are the perfect distraction.”

“Carolyn seems to be busy, so I guess I’ll be going. Can you tell her I’ll call her in the morning?”

“Don’t go,” Vanessa pleaded, leaning drunkenly across the kitchen counter and placing a warm hand over Denver’s. “You and I should get to know each other better.”

Denver was horrified. Was Carolyn’s partner coming on to her? It certainly felt like she was.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, pulling her hand away. “I really have to go.”

Vanessa gave her a long, meaningful look. “Have you ever crossed over?” she asked, lowering her voice. “Ever taken a walk on the wild side?”

“Excuse me?” Denver said, feigning innocence.

“Well…” Vanessa continued with a suggestive wink. “If you haven’t, I can take you places no man has even thought of.” She let out a knowing chuckle. “Multiple orgasms, here we come!”

“Uh … I’m not sure if this is a conversation we should be having,” Denver said, placing her wineglass on the counter. “Quite frankly, I find it inappropriate and awkward. You’re Carolyn’s partner, and she’s my best friend.”

“I’m sure she’s told you we’re not exclusive,” Vanessa revealed with another throaty chuckle. “Carolyn wouldn’t mind.…”

“Oh for God’s sake!” Denver exclaimed, making a dash for the kitchen door. “I’m out of here. Good night.”

*   *   *

On the flight back to L.A., Bobby made a futile attempt to get some sleep. It was important that he have his wits about him. He had an urgent need to regain control of his life, for being locked up had left him feeling humiliated and helpless, a feeling he had not enjoyed. Denver hadn’t helped with her fleeting visit full of accusations. She was a deputy DA, for crissake. Shouldn’t she be trying to help him discover how this had happened to him? Wasn’t that her job?

Instead she’d acted out
her
frustrations and to hell with how
he
felt.

Fuck Denver. Fuck women in general. He was angry and sad and there was no Gino to give him wise counsel. Gino was gone. It didn’t seem possible, and yet it was true.

He’d had no time to grieve, to find out exactly how it had all gone down. All he knew was that he no longer had a grandfather, and it was a painful thought.

Soon he would be with his mom and the rest of his family. He couldn’t wait to feel safe again.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“What are
you
doing here?” Max asked, her heart racing with excitement.

“What am
I
doing here?” Billy said, staring at her. “How about
you
?”

“Washing my hands,” she answered lamely, taking in every inch of his dirty-blond masculine beauty. Oh God! He was as gorgeous as ever, with his crystal blue eyes and deep surfer’s tan. Six-foot-tall Billy Melina. Ex-husband of Lucky’s best friend, Venus. Major movie star. Max’s first real lover.

And … a cowardly asshole who’d dumped her on the advice of his so-called “team,” who didn’t think it was advantageous for his career to be hooking up with Lucky Santangelo’s teenage daughter, especially in light of the scandal that had taken place at the Keys, involving a murder and a robbery during which Billy had gotten his cheek slashed.

The best plastic surgeon in L.A. had taken care of his face.

His advisers had taken care of distancing him from Max.

“You’re lookin’ fantastic, Green Eyes,” he said, fixing her with “the look.”

The look involved his intense blue eyes gazing into hers as if she were the only girl in the world.

She knew the look well. It was the same look he used on his costars. The same look he used in photo shoots. It was the famous Billy Melina look that had women the world over fantasizing about what it would be like to make love to him. It was the classic movie-star look.

Max cleared her throat while attempting to compose herself. She was older and wiser since last they’d met. She no longer harbored a teenage crush. He’d dumped her, plain and simple, and even though she’d tried to move on, it still hurt, and she still had feelings for him. He’d broken her heart, crushed her, and now here he was again like nothing had ever happened.

Simply being in his presence was devastating, yet at the same time her heart was continuing to pound and she couldn’t help flashing onto the first time they’d made love on the beach in Malibu while an out-of-control party she’d thrown while her parents were away was raging up at the house. What a night that had been. Going all the way for the first time, lying on a moonlit beach with the surf pounding, and Billy’s arms around her, his body pressed tightly against hers.

It was a night she would never forget.

But she had to, didn’t she?

No more heartbreak.

No more Billy
.

“Thanks,” she said to Billy, going for a flippant approach.

“Hey—I mean it,” he said, edging closer to her, his blue eyes doing their best to draw her in.

Quickly she backed away from the sink. “All yours,” she said, striving to sound as if she didn’t give a damn. “I gotta get back inside.”

“Who’re you with?”

“Friends,” she answered vaguely.

“I flew in this morning with my publicist and a couple of execs on the movie I’m about to start shooting. I was thinkin’ that if I got rid of them, you and I could go for a drink.”

“No. Thanks anyway,” she said crisply.

“How come?” he asked, looking surprised.

“Hmm…” she said, tapping her chin with her index finger. “What if we were
caught
together by the paparazzi?”

“Huh?” Billy said, not getting it.

“I mean, I would
hate
to tarnish your image,” she continued. “Think of all the damage it could do to your reputation.” She thought about saying “precious” reputation, then she figured that might be taking it too far.

“C’mon, Max,” he said, his expression perplexed. “You gotta know I had no choice about what happened. Then when Lennie came to see me—”

“What?” she gulped, totally horrified. “Are you telling me that my
dad
visited you?”

“Yeah, the dude was all over me. Read me the freakin’ riot act.” A long pause. “I thought you knew.”

Before she could get her head around
that
stunning piece of information, Lorenzo came into the restroom.

“Are you all right?” he asked, glancing suspiciously at Billy. “I was worried. You have been in here so long.”

“Not to worry,” Max said, forcing herself to sound casual. “Bumped into an old friend.”

“I see,” Lorenzo said.

“These unisex bathrooms are something else,” Max continued. “You never know who you’ll meet.” She summoned a big wide grin to show Billy that she couldn’t care less about him. “Anyway, Billy,” she added. “Totally great running into you. Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hey—wait a minute,” he said, reaching for her arm.

She jerked away from him, quickly grabbing on to Lorenzo. “Gotta go,” she said. “I have people waiting.”

“‘People’?” Billy questioned, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

Yes, people,
she wanted to yell.
You’re not the only one with an entourage. I’m about to be famous too
.

“Let’s go, Lorenzo,” she said, because all of a sudden Lorenzo wasn’t moving. He’d recognized Billy and was gazing at him with lust in his eyes.

Not gay indeed,
Max thought.
Why hide it?

She gave Lorenzo a sharp nudge. Reluctantly he dragged his gaze away from Billy and escorted her outside.

“Was that—” he began to say.

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him. “And for someone who’s not gay, you certainly seemed impressed.”

Lorenzo blushed.

“
What?
” Max demanded. “You think I didn’t figure it out?”

“I … I … didn’t imagine my sexual orientation was anyone’s business except my own,” Lorenzo stammered.

“Oh
puh
-
leeze
,” Max responded. “As if anyone gives a crap in this century. The closet is wide open. In fact,” she added, thinking of her friend Harry, “I have the perfect person for you.”

“I think I just encountered the perfect person,” Lorenzo sighed, going all dreamy-eyed.

“Billy Melina is
so
not gay,” Max said firmly. Then it was her turn to blush, for Billy had emerged from the restroom and was standing right behind them.

“No,” Billy said, all tousled hair and blazing blue eyes. “Billy Melina is so
not
gay.”

As he spoke, Max felt her reserve crumble and her stomach began performing cartwheels. He might’ve broken her heart into a thousand fragmented pieces, but there was no denying that she still loved him. She couldn’t help herself.

Billy grinned. He knew he had her.

Shooting him a filthy look, she dragged Lorenzo back to the private room, ignoring the fact that he was desperate to be introduced to Billy.

Another time. Another place. She couldn’t wait to get away.

Alfredo stood as she made her way to her seat at the table. Dante didn’t, until Alfredo muttered something to him in Italian, then Dante reluctantly rose and held back her chair so she could squeeze in.

Across the table, Carlo appeared to be glassy-eyed, while Natalia was still draping herself all over him, claiming ownership.

Talk about desperate,
Max thought, and for a moment she almost felt sorry for the Italian girl, because if she knew Carlo at all, she knew that there was no way he was the marrying kind.

Lorenzo was hovering at the other end of the table, not sure whether to sit or not.

“Signor Dolcezza,” Max said sweetly, beckoning Lorenzo to join her, “is it okay if Lorenzo comes and sits next to me so he can translate? It’s so difficult for me not speaking Italian.”

Alfredo got the gist of what she was saying. He summoned one of the waiters to bring another chair. Max made sure that the waiter squeezed the chair between her and Dante. Ha! That would show him.

Dante gave her a mean-spirited look and turned back to speak to his rich older woman.

Why does he hate me?
she thought.
What have I done to him except exactly nothing?

After the main course of medallions of veal, there was an array of delicious desserts—everything from soft, creamy panna cotta to whipped chocolate mousse and strawberry cheesecake.

Max found herself mindlessly eating everything in sight. Anything to take her mind off Billy.

Then Alfredo decided to make a speech. He stood up, tapped the side of his glass, gestured toward Max, and spoke glowingly in Italian.

Max knew it was a flattering speech, for Lorenzo translated everything Alfredo said into her ear. Everyone was laughing and clapping and toasting her with champagne, which forced her to forget about Billy for a moment as she reveled in the attention. Only for a moment, because who should walk into the private room but Billy himself. He entered the room and stood in the doorway, all six foot one of him, famous smile flashing, blue eyes seeking hers.

“Sorry to interrupt, folks,” he drawled, reverting to his Mid-western roots. “The thing is, I couldn’t resist congratulating my very special friend here.”

As he spoke, he moved toward Max, and everyone went quiet.

Billy Melina. Famous American movie star. Every woman at the table was dumbstruck, including Max, who couldn’t believe he was doing this.

She felt the color rising in her cheeks and her heartbeat quickening.

Stay cool,
a voice screamed in her head.
Do not fall into his trap again. He’s a user. He dumped you once, and he can do it again
.