Andrea’s tone was cooler than before, because even though she didn’t know the circumstances of their youth, she was angry with Alan for the way he had verbally attacked Ivan.
“Thank you. Come to see us soon, Alan.”
Alan offered them a quick salute and walked jauntily away.
Their shopping excursion was ruined though Ivan tried to pretend otherwise. They finally loaded their packages into the limo and headed back to the mansion in silence.
Andrea was unable to shake the overwhelming feeling that something disastrous was about to happen.
Chapter 25
Laid Low by Love
While Andrea, with the help of Lydia, put all the baby things they’d bought away upstairs, Ivan paced in the library, getting his thoughts in line. Then he got on the phone to his secretary.
“Margaret? Ivan here. I need you to do me a personal favor. Do you and your husband have plans for this evening?
“No, Mr. Littlefield, we don’t. Why?”
“I’d like to treat you both to an evening out. I’d like you to take in the show at the Roman Spa lounge. I’ll send Ned over with the funds you’ll need and the limo will be at your disposal for the evening.”
Like everyone else in Vegas, Margaret knew about the ongoing battle between Carl Cothane and Ivan, so she was shocked.
“Let me get this straight. You want to treat us to a night out at the Roman Spa? I—I don’t understand. I mean I appreciate your generosity, but forgive me for asking the obvious, why on earth there?”
“Well, my generosity is tempered with selfishness, Margaret. My brother, Alan, is starting there tonight, singing in the lounge of all things, and I want you to report back to me on how he does, or if anything else happens that I should know about.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother, Mr. Littlefield.”
“We’ve been estranged for years. I tried to tell him that Cothane is a snake, but he wouldn’t listen. But that’s nothing new with Alan. He never listened to me, not when we were younger and certainly not now.
“I know Cothane is up to something, but I haven’t figured out what yet. I don’t anticipate anything happening, certainly nothing that will put you two in danger or I wouldn’t even suggest you go there, but I trust your judgment. I know you can assess the situation better than anyone else. Is this asking too much? I’ll understand if you say it is.”
“No, of course not. Louis and I could use a night out anyway.”
Hearing his relieved sigh, sensing his frustration, she added, “Maybe I could talk to your brother. I could reinforce what you’ve already told him, that everybody in Vegas knows how crooked Carl Cothane is and that he won’t do to fool with.”
“Thanks Margaret. I appreciate that, but Alan wouldn’t listen to you, either. He’d just assume I’d put you up to it because I was trying to impose my will on him. He’s a stubborn little fool that has to learn everything the hard way. God, I was hoping he’d grown out of some of that attitude, but if anything, he’s worse. I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”
“I understand.”
* * *
When she hung up, Margaret turned to her husband who’d been leaning against the door jamb listening.
“What’s up, hon?”
“Louis, we’re going club hopping tonight. We haven’t done that in years. It might be fun. Mr. Littlefield is sending the limo for us, plus the cash we’ll need. What do you make of that?”
“Club hopping? That’s a surprise. It’s the last thing I’d expect you’d want to do.”
“It’s not something I care to do, actually. It’s a favor to Mr. Littlefield.”
“I gathered as much from your side of the conversation.”
“Seems Ivan’s brother, Alan, is singing in the lounge at the Roman Spa tonight. What I wouldn’t give to know the whole story behind that scenario. Until now, I didn’t know Ivan Littlefield even had a brother.”
Louis said, “That man sure is a mystery.”
“He is that, for a fact, but he’s always been good to me and very generous in the salary he pays. Still, even if he wasn’t, I’d want to do this for him because I heard something in his voice that I’ve never heard before. It really touched my heart.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Pain and confusion. For the first time since I started working for him, I realize Ivan Littlefield is just as vulnerable as the rest of us. Strange how such a powerful, seemingly untouchable man can be laid low by love. And Ivan loves his brother, Louis. I could tell. And I know for a fact that he adores his new wife, even though he’s having trouble admitting it even to himself.
“That hard shell Mr. Littlefield has been living under for all these years is finally cracking. I suspect that beneath it is a gentle man who has been hurt very badly over the years.”
Louis laughed as he hugged her. “Margaret, my love, you are a hopeless romantic.”
Snuggled against his shoulder, Margaret wondered out loud, “You think his brother is anything like him?”
“Could anybody be like Ivan Littlefield?”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
Louis kissed her then, silently thanking his stars that Margaret was still the warm and generous woman he had married fifteen years earlier and still a looker at thirty-nine. As he held her, he remembered his initial concern when she had accepted the position of Ivan Littlefield’s personal secretary, given the man’s dubious reputation. But if anything, working for Ivan had cemented their relationship even more because it had given Margaret an insight to the upscale and convoluted world of the ultra-rich who despite their money, lived in lonely seclusion. So she always came home proclaiming it was wonderful being his wife and living an uncomplicated life; free to just love and be loved without the hassle Ivan had to deal with on a daily basis.
* * *
That night, the lights lowered, the music started and the curtain parted. A group of scantily clad showgirls came out, danced, sang a unified version of an old show tune, then parted with the lyrics, “…let’s go on with the show.”
The spotlight then hit the center stage.
Leaning on her elbows, Margaret studied the strikingly handsome young man, dressed in a tuxedo, his long raven black hair pulled back and secured in a ponytail, seated on a stool, holding an electric guitar.
There was no doubting that he was a Littlefield. Anyone who knew Ivan would know they were brothers, but there’s a softer side to him, Margaret noted.
He looked more vulnerable than Ivan, almost ethereally handsome. She concluded that Ivan looked like an action hero, while his younger brother looked like a model.
With a nod and a smile at the audience, Alan began playing, his fingers flying over the guitar strings in a rendition of Mason Williams’ instrumental ‘Classical Gas’, the full orchestra backing him up.
Then he smoothly morphed into a country medley of several recently charted tunes before strumming and singing along with the last song, the Willie Nelson classic, “You Were Always On My Mind”.
He left the stool and walked out to the audience, singing personally to a few ladies. When he came to Margaret and Louis’ table, he smiled broadly, singing first to her before fixing an appreciative gaze on Louis. Then he turned away and wandered back to center stage, sat back down on the stool, sang the last notes of the song and the spotlight went out, leaving the stage dark.
It was quite an impressive show and when the audience erupted in applause, the spotlight came on and he took his bows, saying “Thank you very much,” as they quieted down.
“I appreciate your coming to see the show and making my first night in Vegas memorable. I hope to see you again.”
Alan blew his audience a kiss then disappeared behind the curtain.
Margaret said, “Guess I can report back to Ivan that his brother can sing for sure and play the heck out of a guitar. You know, Louis, I kind of got the impression he thought you were as good looking as I think you are.”
&nbs
p; Louis feigned an innocent look. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Huh. Maybe I’m wrong, but I got that vibe. Did you?”
“Yeah, I did,” Louis admitted with a grin.
“God, good thing I’m not jealous. Now I realize that not only do I have to watch the ladies, but the guys, too. If they just knew how good you are in bed, I’d probably have to use a shotgun to keep them away.”
Louis laughed heartily. “Well, I am flattered, but more by your remarks than by Alan Littlefield’s attention. I can’t think of a better way to end the evening than by going home now and discussing that bed scenario in detail.”
Margaret laughed as he leaned to kiss her.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
* * *
The next day, Margaret related their evening, with modification, seated before Ivan in his office.
“So, nothing happened? It was just a regular performance?” He asked.
“That’s right. He’s really quite good, Mr. Littlefield. And he can play the fire out of a guitar. We enjoyed the show.”
“Good to hear. Well, if it was anywhere other than Carl Cothane’s casino, I’d be thrilled thinking that Alan had finally found what he wanted to do with his life, but I know it’s just a ruse, some elaborate scheme Cothane has cooked up that will eventually explode in Alan’s face. I’d offer him a job in my casino, but I know he wouldn’t accept it. Damn, why does he have to be so stubborn?”
Margaret knew that Ivan was talking more to himself than to her so she remained silent. Suddenly he looked at her, the mask of hardness back in place.
“Thanks for going there and checking it out for me. I suppose the only thing I can do now is wait for the other shoe to drop.”
“I wish there was something I could do.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done already. So, did you and Louis have a good time?”
“We did. It was great getting out and about at night. We’ve turned into such homebodies that it’s pitiful.”
“Sometimes home is the happiest place to be.”
Margaret saw that he meant that and she smiled. “How is Andrea doing?”
“She’s doing great. You know, it occurs to me that I didn’t tell Alan the news that he was going to be an uncle. That might bring him to the house. Give him time to sleep off the long night he’s had, Margaret, then give him a call and invite him to a late lunch. Say that I have a surprise for him. It might take some convincing on your part, but I know you can handle it. Just play it by ear; say what you think is necessary to get him here. Tell him the limo will pick him up. Let me know what he says.”
“All right.”
Chapter 26
Dark Oblivion
Andrea, just passing in the front foyer when the doorbell rang, opened the door herself to admit Alan who said, “Well here I am, sister-in-law. Is King Midas on the premises?”
The welcoming smile disappeared as Andrea stepped back to allow him entrance.
“Alan, come in. Ivan will be down in a few moments. Maybe we could—ah—chat a bit before then.”
“Sure thing. Lead me on, sis,” he said glibly, following her into the living room. He sat down on the sofa with the sarcastic remark, following a low whistle, “Nice mausoleum you two have here. Tell me, you don’t have side-by-side coffins stashed somewhere in the far reaches of the dungeon, do you?”
Unable to hide her anger, Andrea said bluntly, “Alan, you don’t have to be so hateful. Why do you take such pleasure in hurting Ivan? If you just knew how concerned he’s been about you, you wouldn’t be so quick to wound him.”
“Whoa there. Don’t fly into my face, sis. Can’t you take a joke?”
“Yes, I can when I know it is a joke. But those things you said to Ivan yesterday, those weren’t jokes. Those were deliberately painful jabs and he was hurt by them.”
“He was? Did he tell you that?”
Guessing her answer from the look that crossed her face Alan shrugged. “I thought not. I take it that you’re determined to convince me Ivan the terrible has feelings like all us ordinary folk, right?” He quipped.
“Yes, he does. And why would you say such a dreadful thing about your brother? Ivan would do anything for you and I think you know that, yet you persist in cutting him down. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Alan stared at her, openmouthed.
“You really love the guy don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, very much.”
“And here I thought that Ivan had just bought himself a dolly for show.”
Andrea’s face flushed. “You are the most cynical young man I’ve ever known.”
“And I’m sure at your advanced age you’ve known a few,” Alan snorted.
“Why do you hate him?”
Alan winced. “I don’t hate Ivan,” he said, suddenly avoiding her eyes. “To be truthful, I suppose I just envy him. He’s always breezed through life, had things his way, and gotten everything he’s wanted. Hell, he even obtained the unobtainable, Claudia’s approval.”
“I don’t know the particulars of your and Ivan’s lives when you were young, Alan, but reading between the lines, I’ve made some observations. I don’t think Ivan breezed through anything, and I’m sorry to say I haven’t even met your mother, but I do know that Ivan feels as estranged from her as you do. I wish that wasn’t the case for both of you and I hope someday it won’t be.
“What I do know, Alan, is that Ivan has struggled against almost insurmountable odds to carve out a place for himself in his own way here in Vegas, wanting to prove himself as much as you say you do. In that respect you are both so alike. In fact, you're more alike than different, both stubborn and too full of pride. What you need to do is see him for the wonderful man he is and stop hurting him.”
“Man, you should be his lawyer.”
“Please don’t keep hurting him, Alan,” she pleaded. “Just be—friendly. Be his brother. That’s all Ivan wants. He needs that from you, and I think you need that, too.”
They were interrupted by a sound in the hallway. Alan met Andrea’s suddenly anxious and imploring eyes. He could see she was worried he would repeat what she’d said so he quickly reassured her.
“It’s cool. Don’t sweat it, sis.”
Ivan entered the room in long strides, his eyes going from Andrea to Alan. He caught the look that passed between them and wondered what they’d been talking about as he offered his hand to his brother.
“Welcome to our home, Alan. As I remember your favorite food was chicken spaghetti, so that’s what I had the cook prepare for lunch.”
“Damn! You remembered that?”
“Sure. I remember how you used to ask the cook to make that after you ate it at the home of one of your school friend’s. Most of the time she would make it as a special side dish for you because Mother didn’t like it.”
“Yeah, I remember Mother saying it looked like something someone threw up, and if I recall correctly, she had called it a ‘trailer trash special’,” Alan said with a laugh.
Then, glancing around, Alan added, “By the way, nice place you got here, bro.”
“It’s a little ostentatious I suppose, but large as it is, we intend to eventually fill it. At least we’ve given that a start,” Ivan said as he moved to put his arm around Andrea.
“What’re you saying, big brother?”
“That Andrea and I are going to have our first baby. And that we anticipate many more. I invited you here, Alan, because I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be an uncle in about six and a half months and we’d both like for you to get to know your nephew, or niece, as the case may be, which is another reason why we’d like you to move in with us.”
“Well I’ll be damned! Now I’m really in shock, picturing you as a father.”
“He’ll be the best father ever,” Andrea spoke up, soliciting a grateful smile from Ivan.
“I must admit that I’m surprised to see how—ah—well adjusted and normal your life has beco
me, if you can call living like a billionaire mogul behind a locked gate with bodyguards and a flock of reporters waiting like vultures to take your picture normal. This place almost outshines Mother’s mansion. Is that what you were going for, Ivan? I guess she still lives in Connecticut, right? ”
The men frowned at each other, both momentarily reliving their disconnected past.
“Yes, she does, or at least she did the last time we spoke, which was a few months ago. I asked her then if she had heard from you. I’m sure she’d like it if you gave her a call.”
Alan’s raised eyebrow said more than his words as he remarked cryptically, “Probably couldn’t get through her entourage to even speak to her if I did call, but I might do that later.”
Anxious to change the subject, Alan said brightly, “Say, it is great news about the baby. You really have settled down, haven’t you? All that’s missing is the white picket fence around the mansion.”
Ivan laughed.
“It’s far from being a mansion, Alan, certainly not in the class of Mother’s, but it is big enough that you could have your own wing if you’d come live with us. We both want that.”
“Yes, we do,” Andrea was quick to interject. “Very much.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but newlyweds don’t need boarders. Besides, you aren’t fooling me, bro. You just want a built-in babysitter,” Alan quipped as they made their way to the dining room.
“Guess you have me figured out,” Ivan said, managing to hide his disappointment while maintaining his smile. “Suit yourself. But we may still call on you at times to baby-sit no matter where you’re living. Well, are you hungry?”
“Matter of fact I am. Man! Chicken spaghetti. Can’t believe I’m going to have that again.”
“Shall we eat?”
“Don’t suppose there’s garlic bread to do with it, is there?”
“Absolutely. What would chicken spaghetti be without garlic bread, a green salad and a fine wine? But wine only for the two of us. Andrea will have sparkling water. Right, hon?”
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