The Santangelos (43 page)

“Then whyn’t you ask one of your rich boyfriends?” Pammy said, pouring herself a shot. “They got plenty of money to spare.”

“I thought you didn’t approve of my rich boyfriends,” Willow countered.

“Gimme the check,” Pammy snapped. “You owe me big-time, young lady.”

I don’t owe you anything,
Willow thought. She wrote the check anyway, handed it to her mom, and made a quick exit, for once ignoring the gathered paps who yelled out her name.

Her future was waiting. And if the check bounced, it was Pammy’s fault for being so damn greedy.

*   *   *

“Where’s Max?” Lennie wanted to know, coming up to Lucky between tables.

“On her way,” Lucky assured him. “Cookie got a text that she’s landed in L.A. and will be here soon by helicopter.”

“How’re
you
doing?” Lennie asked, catching her by the arm.

Tossing back her mane of jet-black hair, she shrugged. “I’m fine,” she said. “The turnout is impressive, don’t you think? And thanks for working as a team, Lennie. It’s not easy trying to say hello to everyone while making them all feel as if they’re special. Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Sure you could,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, sure I could,” she said, smiling back. “But I’d sooner do it with you anytime.”

“So…” Lennie inquired with a caustic tilt of an eyebrow. “Have you made your boyfriend feel special yet?”

“My boyfriend?”

“Alex Woods. He hasn’t stopped watching you all night.”

“Oh, c’
mon
,” she said, laughing softly. “Let it go.”

“Hey, don’t spoil my fun—I get off on spying on other men who lust after you, especially when they haven’t got a chance in hell.”

“Alex is an old friend,” she admonished, thinking about Alex for a moment. He was an Oscar-winning filmmaker who’d always had a thing for her. “You
do
know that? Right?”

“Yeah,
old
is the operative word,” Lennie said with a cynical laugh. “Way too old for the twenty-something Asian girl he’s hanging on to.”

“Jealous?” Lucky teased.

“Huh?”

“How would
you
like to be with a cute little twenty-something?”

“Are you
crazy
?”

“Well?”

“Stop f-ing with me Lucky, and go put your boyfriend out of his misery.”

“Come with.”

“And ruin his night?” Lennie said, laughing. “No way. You’re on your own, sweetheart.”

“Thanks for your loyal support.”

“Anytime.”

Shaking her head, Lucky made her way toward Alex and his young date. Somehow or other, she had a feeling that it was going to be a long night.

*   *   *

The one thing Willow did not appreciate was competition, and the moment she met Max she was aware of competition staring her straight in the face. Max was younger, prettier, and about to be a very well-known face—as her yellow-toothed, shady, foreign boyfriend couldn’t wait to inform her.

Alejandro was all hyped up, and Willow could tell that he fancied the dark-haired brat, although she was hardly his type. Too young. Too wild. Dante had shown him some of the photos from the Capri shoot on his iPad, and now Alejandro was acting as if Max were the next coming of Gisele.

Settling into Alejandro’s usual booth, Willow picked up a glass of champagne. She noticed Rafael lurking near the bar, which was unusual because he rarely spent time in the club—he was always upstairs in the office. She chose to ignore him, although she couldn’t help remembering how talented he was in bed. Hmm … maybe sometime in the future, she’d revisit that stellar action. Why not? When she was a big star again, she could do anything she wanted.

“I’m investing in Dante’s company,” a stoned Alejandro informed her, leaning in. “Dante and I have discussed how Dolcezza can work with us on the movie. Max has to be in it. We will have a part specially written for her.”

Willow remained cool and in control, even though she was ready to rant and rave about how dumb Alejandro was. The truth was that she’d always known he was dumb, only this crap took his dumbness to new heights. “We could do that,” she said, trying not to grit her teeth. “Can she act?”

“Who cares?” Alejandro chortled. “Look at her.”

She looks like a sulky little teenager to me,
Willow thought.
Selena Gomez with a splash of Mila Kunis
.

Willow managed a smile and bobbed her head as if she agreed with him. If Alejandro was about to develop a crush on this little nobody, then maybe she should pay some attention to his shady foreign friend.

“So,” she purred, flinging back her pale red hair and turning to Dante. “Tell me all about what you and Alejandro got up to in college. I bet you were a couple of real super-studs, ready to do anything.”

Dante zeroed in on Alejandro’s girlfriend. He was getting nowhere with Max, and it seemed to him that this one had potential.

“There is nothing Alejandro and I didn’t do,” he said, removing her clothes with his small evil eyes. “In Vegas you and I should experience everything. Do you agree?”

Willow smiled politely. There was something about this dude that was a total turnoff, and she had no intention of experiencing anything with him.

“When are we leaving?” she whispered, grabbing Alejandro’s arm.

“One more drink,” he promised. “Then we will be on our way.”

One more drink. In Alejandro’s world it was always one more drink.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Denver was in the mood to let it all out, and Sam was the perfect listener. On the day he’d dropped off Lady Gaga, she hadn’t invited him in. Now it was a couple of days later—the night before Gino’s funeral—and she was feeling vulnerable and alone, so she called him and invited him over.

Before she made the call, a thought came to her that maybe she should attend Gino’s funeral to pay her respects. She’d texted Bobby to ask him if she should—it was the first time they’d been in contact since the split. His answer was short and to the point. “Not a good idea,” he’d texted back. And that was it.

Yes, they were definitely over.

The day before, she’d received a call from his business manager, who’d informed her that Bobby would like her to keep the house as a gift. “No thank you,” she’d said. “I’ll be moving out next week.”

Ah, Bobby … generous as usual.

She didn’t need his house as some kind of payoff. She didn’t need anything from him.

Sam arrived carrying two bottles of wine and a pizza.

Lady Gaga jumped to attention, frantically attempting to hump his leg.

“How’s my favorite district attorney?” he asked, fending off the rambunctious puppy with a gentle shove.

“I’m okay, actually. Especially since I think I see pizza in my future. Your instincts are so right on.”

Sam grinned, displaying his crooked teeth.

“I know you live in L.A. now,” Denver remarked, checking out his smile. “Only promise me that you’ll never get your teeth fixed.”

Sam’s grin widened. “What makes you think I’d ever do that?”

“’Cause L.A. is the city of perfection.”

“In that case you’re perfect enough for both of us,” he said, following her into the kitchen.

“No compliments. Please,” she said, immediately feeling vulnerable.

“Howszatt?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah, but
she
is in the mood for pizza and wine,” he said, still grinning. “Such a gourmet combination.”

“Yet somehow you knew it’s exactly what I wanted.”

“I don’t only write scripts, I read minds too.”

Denver gave a wan smile. Sam had a habit of making things seem normal.

“Okay,” he said, reaching for an opener. “I’ll open the wine while you micro the pizza. After that we’ll sit down and you can tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“Whatever you feel like, Denver. I’m an excellent listener.”

*   *   *

“What kinda girl you lookin’ for?” M.J. questioned as he raced his Maserati down the highway heading for Vegas.

“Who’s looking?” Bobby replied, leaning back in the passenger seat. “I’m done with being tied down.”

“You enjoyed it while it was happenin’,” M.J. pointed out, shooting him a knowing look.

“That’s not the kind of tied down I was talking about,” Bobby quipped.

“Funny.”

“How about you? You ever miss being with one woman?”

“No way, man,” M.J. said, vigorously shaking his head. “Freedom is where it’s at. There’s a whole world of pussy out there, an’ I’m takin’ my time.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Bobby said, gazing thoughtfully out the side window. Days had passed and he’d almost come to terms with breaking up with Denver. Unfortunately, there was always that lingering doubt when a relationship ended. Were they making the right decision? Because it wasn’t just him; obviously Denver had reached the same conclusion.

He had to admit that he missed her laugh, and the way she snuggled up to him in bed, wrapping her long legs around him, making him feel safe and secure. He missed their conversations; she was a girl who actually knew what was going on in the world and could converse on any subject. He missed the smell of her hair when she’d just washed it, and the way she always seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

He did not miss her work ethic—pursuing the son of a dangerous drug lord was all she’d talked about for the last few months. Things had finally come to a head when she’d arrested Frankie Romano. Oh sure, he’d known that Frankie was a bad boy, but Denver hadn’t been prepared to cut Frankie any slack. She was all about locking him up. They’d argued furiously about it, then Bobby had taken off for Chicago and things had imploded.

He’d truly thought Denver was the girl he was going to marry—he’d even bought an engagement ring to give her when the time was right.

Now it was over. No more a couple.

He gave a wry laugh.

“Wassup?” M.J. asked.

“I was just thinking,” Bobby said. “You know anyone who’s in the market for a secondhand engagement ring?”

M.J. burst out laughing. “You’re gonna be okay, bro,” he said. “We need t’ get you laid, an’ somehow I gotta hunch that’s not gonna be a problem.”

*   *   *

Denver wasn’t sure whether she wanted Sam to stay the night. She’d just broken up with Bobby, and surely starting things up with another man wasn’t the coolest move in the world?

Yet Sam was there, he was understanding, he made no demands. He didn’t even complain when she spent half an hour on the phone with Leon, planning their next move as far as Alejandro Diego was concerned.

Once Frankie had started talking, he’d unleashed a whole lot of information. They had more than enough to put Alejandro away, but catching him in the act of accepting a shipment or selling drugs on his premises was imperative to their case.

Sonia, their undercover agent, had not managed to hook up with Alejandro himself, although over the last few days she’d spent enough time at Club Luna to be able to report on Alejandro’s movements. She’d gotten friendly with one of the bartenders, and according to him, Alejandro had taken off to Vegas for the night—which gave her the opportunity to nose around even more. Leon told her it would be a big bonus if she could get the layout of Alejandro’s private office and take photos. “I’ll try,” she’d said.

Currently Sonia was still at the club, and she’d assured Leon that she would check in with him later. Leon had relayed this information to Denver, who was now trying to relax and make the most of her time with Sam.

“You always ply me with too much wine,” Denver murmured.

“I’m not
forcing
you to drink it,” Sam said, amused. “
You’re
the one chugging it down.”

“I’m hardly chugging it down,” she said indignantly.

“One and a half bottles later—of course you’re not.”

“Oh, and I suppose
you
haven’t drunk anything?”

“One glass. My deal is staying in control.”

“
I’m
the prosecutor,” she said, realizing that she’d probably drunk far too much and that wasn’t cool. “
I’m
the one in control,” she added grandly.

“Sure you are,” he replied with a good-natured grin.

“I think you’re right,” she muttered, falling back against the soft cushions on the couch. “I might’ve had a tiny bit too much wine, and that’s okay, ’cause I’m finally celebrating.”

“And the celebration would be about you and Bobby breaking up?” Sam asked hopefully.

“No, silly. It’s ’cause next week we finally get to nail Alejandro Diego.”

“You do?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but we have everything in place to nail him good.”

“That’s a coup, right?”

“It sure is. One more sleazebag off the streets.”

“How’d this happen?”

“Can’t tell you. Privileged information,” she mumbled, suppressing a ladylike hiccough. “I’ve told you more than I should.”

“I’m still writing that script about the smart, feisty DA,” Sam said. “Any inside information is more than welcome.”

“Well, you’re not getting anything out of me,” she said, making a sudden attempt to stand. And when she did, the room began to spin, and she found herself reaching out to Sam for support.

He caught her before she tripped and fell.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” he said, as Lady Gaga barked excitedly.

“And … I think…” she said softly, leaning close to him, “that’s only gonna happen if you care to join me.”

“That’s what you think, huh?”

“That’s what I know.”

“You’re sure?”

“Stop stalling. I’m quite sure.”

They made it into the bedroom, where Denver collapsed on the bed.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Sam pointed out. “I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“And he’s such a good guy,” Denver sighed, kicking off her shoes. “Come here, good guy, before I change my mind.”

“I’m only human,” Sam groaned.

“Yes,” Denver agreed. “And so am I.”

Within moments he was on top of her and they were rolling around locked in a passionate embrace. Denver was well aware that she’d had too much wine, but she didn’t care. She needed Sam. She needed him to fill her up with unconditional love.