Vendetta: Lucky's Revenge (22 page)

“Does he know this woman?”

“Apparently not.”

“Fuck!” Alex exclaimed angrily. “I’ve really gotta speak to Lucky. What’s that guy who works for her?”

“Kyoko?”

“Yeah, get her number from him.”

“I tried reaching him, he’s no longer at the studio.”

“Use your smarts, Lili. Call him at home.”

“Yes, Alex. How’s everything going there?”

“Fine. What’s happening with the test?”

“All set for tomorrow afternoon. Makeup and hair are standing by. Venus will be in at one, Johnny at two. Both of them will be camera-ready by three. Does that suit you?”

“Organized as ever, Lili. Did France tell Tin Lee I’m not coming back?”

“I believe she did. And your mother’s called twice.”

“What does
she
want?”

“Perhaps you should phone her yourself.”

“You do it, say I’m out of town.”

“Will you be flying back later?”

“Get me Lucky’s number and I’ll let you know.” He clicked off, stuffed his portable in his pocket, and rejoined his crew.

“Ready for the next location?” Russell asked.

“Take me to it,” Alex said. “I definitely want to get out of here tonight.”

MORTON’S WAS
THE
INDUSTRY HANGOUT. IT WAS
always packed with Hollywood movers and shakers,
the
place to be seen. When Lucky entered, every head turned to stare. Today she was big news and they all knew it.

She arrived before Venus, and rather than wait at the bar, she followed the maître d’ to her table, navigating her way past tables full of people she knew. She kissed Arnold Kopelson, the producer, and his smart wife, Anne. She waved at the Marvin Davises, stopped to have a word with Joanna and Sidney Poitier, greeted Mel Gibson, blew a kiss at Charlie Dollar, and finally arrived at her destination.

As soon as she sat down, Charlie got up and ambled over. “Hey—” he drawled, tucking his shirt in his pants, disheveled as usual. “The phrase—‘stood up’—is not in my vocabulary.”

She managed a wan grin. “Sorry, Charlie. Unforeseen circumstances.”

“Yeah…I heard,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

She sighed. “So did everyone else in this restaurant.”

“Hey, you should’ve come and got me. I’m the world’s greatest expert at packing up.”

“It’s only temporary, Charlie. I’ll be back.”

He leaned across the table. “Wanna give me the real scam? There has to be more to this.”

“I got screwed. Let’s put it this way, it won’t happen again.”

“Well, Lucky,” he said, looking sincere for once in his life. “Don’t forget, I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks, Charlie, I appreciate your concern.”

His stoned eyes restlessly scanned the room. “Who’re you having dinner with?”

“Venus.”

“Oh, yeah, Venus. Didn’t’ja wanna fix me up with her?”

“You can join us for coffee if you like.”

“Maybe,” he said, getting up.

“Playing hard to get, Charlie?”

A crazy grin swept across his face. “Baby, the only thing hard about
me
is my head. Ain’t age a bitch!”

Venus entered a few minutes later, pausing in the doorway just long enough for everybody to turn and stare. She looked her usual sexy self in a white Thierry Mugler suit and funky lace-up boots.

The maître d’ led her over to Lucky. She followed him without stopping, knowing that if she paused at one table, she’d have to stop at them all. Behaving like a star gave Venus a thrill, for she never forgot her humble beginnings. If people wished to greet her, they’d pay homage when she was settled.

Lucky stood up as she approached. They hugged and kissed.

“I’m
so
glad we’re doing this,” Venus said enthusiastically. “I’ve really missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Lucky responded. “Although I’d better tell you before somebody else does—this isn’t the greatest night of my life.”

An attentive waiter appeared at their table. Lucky ordered Perrier while Venus opted for a margarita.

“What happened?” Venus asked as soon as their waiter was out of earshot.

“Panther was taken over today,” Lucky said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I was canned as head of the studio.”

“You’ve
got
to be joking!” Venus exclaimed.

“I wish I was. But, hey—don’t start sobbing in your milk and cookies, I’ll get it back and then some.”

“I’ve no doubt you will. Who took over?”

“That’s the weird thing. It’s not one of the big conglomerates, it’s a woman with a reputation as a corporate raider. She wanted Panther big time, and somehow or other she got it.”

“Will she run the studio?”

Lucky laughed humorlessly. “You’ll
really
get a kick out of this one.
Guess
who she’s bringing in?
Your
favorite and
mine—
Mickey Stolli.”

“Get
outta
here!”

“It’s true,” Lucky said. “The woman is obviously deranged. Anybody with any sense would know Mickey’s going to steal anything that’s not nailed down. Hey,” she added with a brittle laugh, “maybe that’s what she deserves.”

“I’m confused,” Venus said. “
How
did this happen?”

“That’s what I have to find out.”

The waiter brought their drinks to the table. “Compliments of Mr. Dollar,” he said with an
I’m an out-of-work actor hoping to get discovered
smile.

“Thank Mr. Dollar, and tell him next time it’ll be a bottle of Cristal or nothing,” Venus said, picking up her margarita. The waiter nodded and left. “Y’know, Lucky, I’ve tried calling you so many times. How come you wouldn’t let your friends in?”

“Lennie’s death was such a horrible shock…” Lucky said, her eyes clouding over. “I guess it was numbing…” She paused for a long moment before continuing. “I
opted for work—not friends. That way I didn’t have to deal with my true feelings.”

“I can understand that,” Venus said quietly.

“You want to know the truth?” Lucky said softly. “I miss Lennie every single moment of every single day.”

“I’m sure,” Venus murmured.

“Anyway,” Lucky said, making a supreme effort to change the subject. “Enough about that. Tell me how it went with Alex.”

“I’m testing tomorrow with Johnny Romano.”

“Alex is making you test?”

“Freddie says I should.”

“It’s a control move. Mr. Woods is showing you who’s boss.”

“Oh, God!” Venus wailed. “Now that you’re not running the studio, what’ll happen with
Gangsters
?”

“I’m sure this woman isn’t dumb enough to mess with the schedule.”

“Yeah, well, Mickey hates me,” Venus ruminated, sipping her margarita. “Remember that movie where he insisted I take off my clothes when all the male actors weren’t asked to show shit? We had a battle royal over
that
one.”

Lucky remembered it well. “You’re a big star now,” she reminded her friend. “Mickey won’t give you any trouble.”

An agent came over to their table, an agent with a mission to get Venus to read a client’s script. He greeted Lucky briefly—after all, what good was she anymore?—and zeroed in on his main prey.

Lucky allowed her mind to wander, thinking about Alex Woods for a moment. She’d had a good time with him, but that was all—he’d served his purpose. And the note he’d sent with the flowers proved she meant nothing to him. Fine with her. Over and out.

Jack Python, the talk-show host, stopped at their
table. “Lucky,” he said, his penetrating green eyes probing hers. “Sorry to hear the deal.”

“What deal, Jack?” she said evenly.

“I understand you’re not with Panther anymore.”

“Isn’t it strange,” Lucky said. “Good news travels real slow, but bad news gets around faster than a hooker chasing a client.”

“Hey—I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jack said. “Come on the show and we’ll talk about it. I’ll give you the full hour.”

“What would
I
have to talk about, Jack?”

“People are fascinated by the inner workings of Hollywood, and you’re one of the few women—probably the
only
woman—who owned
and
ran her own studio. We could make it an interesting program.”

“How come you didn’t ask me when I
had
the studio?”

“’Cause your publicist wouldn’t let me within twenty feet of you.”

She wasn’t about to get mad at him. Jack Python was one of the good guys, his talk show was intelligent and fast-paced, far superior to the rest of the late-night mindless chat.

Jack drifted off, and Venus got rid of the agent. They ordered steaks and a bottle of red wine. Venus started telling hilarious stories about Rodriguez, mimicking his accent and his lovemaking techniques.

Lucky found herself relaxing as she listened to her friend carry on. Venus was a strong, outspoken woman. Unlike most female superstars, she had an earthy humor and a kick-ass attitude. She also refused to put up with men’s crap when it came to movie-making. Directors and producers were forever trying to coerce her into doing things on-screen she deemed unacceptable. Venus always stood firm—she was never afraid of anything or anyone.

“He’s really very sweet—problem is, he tries so hard it’s painful!” Venus said, finishing up her Rodriguez stories.

“How about Cooper?” Lucky asked. “Do you miss him?”

“What’s to miss?” Venus said dismissively, because she didn’t want to get into the fact that, yes—she missed him a lot, and yet there was no going back.

Lucky scanned the room. Charlie was paying his check, which meant it wouldn’t be long before he came over. “What do you think of Charlie Dollar?” she asked casually.

“Old Charlie’s the greatest,” Venus said, chewing on a piece of steak. “Trouble is, he’s always so stoned.”

“Isn’t that part of his charm?”

“Coke and charm do not mix,” Venus said firmly. “Although I hear he’s a pretty good lay.”

“Really?”

“
Not
that I’m planning on finding out,” Venus added quickly.

“
Would
you go out with him?” Lucky asked.

Venus shook her head vigorously. “Dangerous territory,” she said. “There’s no way Charlie would be capable of sustaining a decent relationship, he’s been a movie star too long. Women are easy for him—he doesn’t give a shit about any of them.”

Lucky agreed. “Commitment is not exactly his bag,” she said. “It’s not mine anymore either. The only commitment I have is to my children and to getting my studio back.”

By the time Charlie ambled his way over to their table, Lucky had called for the check.

“Here comes your favorite movie star,” he said with his usual maniacal grin. “Ready to delight and entertain.”

“You don’t have to bother,” Lucky said lightly. “We entertained each other.”

He zoomed in on Venus. “Wanna hit the clubs? Tango the night away with a decrepit old icon?”

“Gotta get an early night, Charlie,” she said apologetically. “I’m shooting tomorrow. Besides,” she added wickedly, “what would you do with me—I’m over eighteen!”

He favored her with another crazed grin. “I could give you bags under your eyes you’d never forget,” he offered.

“Thanks, this time I’ll pass.”

Much to Charlie’s chagrin they departed shortly after—leaving him in the company of an aging movie star with a bad toupee, and a Lakers cheerleader with enormous silicone breasts. Charlie got along with everyone.

Outside the restaurant, they waited for their cars.

“We gotta do this again,
soon
,” Venus said. “You’re more fun than a date any day!”

“Gee, thanks,” Lucky said, laughing. “
And
you didn’t even have to put out!”

“What a relief!”

“Call me after the test.”

“I’ll do that,” Venus said, getting into her all-black limo, driven by an armed security guard.

The valet pulled up in Lucky’s red Ferrari.

They waved their good-byes and took off into the night.

Lucky drove home fast, taking the San Vicente/Pacific Coast Highway route. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours and she couldn’t wait to collapse into bed and get a good night’s sleep. Had to get her head straight so she could work out how she was going to deal with this latest setback, because that’s all it was—a temporary setback.

As soon as she’d apprised Boogie of what needed to be done, she planned on taking the kids and staying at Gino’s in Palm Springs for a long weekend.

She picked up the car phone to warn him.

“You again.” Gino sighed. “You gotta be after somethin’, kiddo. First an unexpected visit, now the late-night phone call.”

“I’m not waking you, am I?”

“No way. Paige an’ I are sittin’ here watchin’
The Godfather
. I take a look at it once a year.
Godfather One
and
Two—
forget
Three
.”

“Getting in touch with old friends, huh?” Lucky joked.

“One of these days I’ll tell you my real life story, kiddo,” he said, and chuckled. “Gino—the early years. Whatta movie it’d make!”

“I don’t doubt it. I heard stories about you from more people than you’d care to know about.”

“So what’s up now?” he asked. “Anythin’ I can help with?”

She decided not to tell him the real truth. Why burden him with her problems? “I was thinking of bringing the children down for a long weekend.”

“You mean I actually get to see my grandkids?”

“Oh, c’mon, Gino, you see them all the time.”

“I’m teasin’ you, kiddo. I’ll have Paige get everythin’ ready.”

Gino sounded so content. He didn’t seem to miss big-city life at all. It was obvious he loved living in Palm Springs in his big house with Paige to keep him company.

She wondered if that’s what she should do—buy a house in Santa Barbara and forget about the film business, just veg out and be with her kids.

No way. She’d be bored within days. She needed action, and plenty of it.

She pressed in a tape and listened to Joe Cocker’s raspy growl on “You Are So Beautiful.” It was one of Lennie’s favorites.

Recklessly, she drove faster, breaking the speed limit on the Pacific Coast Highway, racing all the way home.

Zooming into her driveway, she jumped out of the car and entered her house. Everyone was asleep. First she peeked in at the children, then she went upstairs to her bedroom and walked out onto the small terrace, remembering the times she and Lennie had made love on the sand below with only the sound of the roaring surf to keep them company.

The phone rang. She picked up the portable.

“Do you know how difficult it’s been reaching you?” said a pissed-off Alex Woods.

Somehow or other he’d gotten her home number; she wasn’t pleased.

“I haven’t exactly been available,” she said, not inclined to get into a fight with him.

“I called you at the studio this morning,” he said accusingly. “Left several messages.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of what went on today. I wasn’t exactly in a returning phone calls mood.”

“Yeah, I heard.” A long pause. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Uh…about the note that came with the flowers. You got ’em, didn’t you?”

“You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Wrong flowers. Wrong note.”

“Really?”