Double Lucky

by Jackie Collins

  “Who is this prick?” he muttered.

  “Dunno,” Luscious said, making a helpless gesture. “Just another john with a shitload of cash.”

  Mikey knew he had to tread carefully as he considered their options. Was it drug money? He didn’t think so, for he was familiar with most of the players in town.

  Gambling money? Most likely. The john was probably a rich degenerate gambler who came to Vegas for the gambling and the prostitutes.

  Luscious was all hyped up and anxious for action. “We gonna take it or what?” she asked, licking her lips in anticipation.

  “Yeah,” Mikey said slowly. “We’re gonna take it. Leave it t’ me to work out how.”

  * * *

  Lucky was not having second thoughts, not at all. It had been a while since she’d had to deal with a situation such as this, and it had her adrenaline pumping.

  Mr. Armand Jordan boasting to people that he was buying her hotel. The nerve of him was unbelievable. And she was about to set him straight in no uncertain fashion.

  She hoped she was about to catch him asleep in bed so that she could scare the shit out of him. Yes, that would be fun.

  She drove her car into the parking section reserved for the villa guests. It was late, no valet on duty, which was good for her, but not so good for the Cavendish. Lucky considered it lax security; she would never allow it to happen at her hotel. Security for the protection of hotel guests was always a priority.

  Why are you doing this? she asked herself. Isn’t it beneath you? Calling out some jerk in the middle of the night?

  No. It’s a kick. He’s a moron who hates women, and I’m about to show him who’s boss.

  Actually, she was loving it. Kicking butt—her favorite thing to do.

  * * *

  “Okay.” Max sighed, extracting herself from Billy and his tempting lips. “This is it. I’ve really got to go.”

  “Really?” he said, teasing her, grabbing her, kissing her.

  “Yes, really,” she giggled, enjoying every minute. I love you, Billy Melina!

  “Okay then, go. Leave me wanting more.”

  “I’ll call you when I get to my room.”

  “You’d better.”

  “Oh, I will,” she said, finally pulling away.

  Billy watched her leave, a smile on his lips. She made him feel as if he was back in high school. She washed away all the random girls who’d been giving him blow jobs beside his pool. She obliterated the Venus years and all the crap that went along with being married to a world-class superstar. When he was with Max, he wasn’t movie star Billy Melina, he was just a guy having fun with his girl.

  Suddenly Max doubled back, rushed past him, and darted into the villa. “Close the door,” she gasped, a frantic expression on her face. “I think I just saw my mom!”

  * * *

  “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Mikey decided. “You an’ Seducta gonna keep the prick busy while Randy an’ me get the suitcase outta here.”

  “You mean you expect me an’ your stoned wife t’ stay here while you take off?” Luscious said indignantly. “No fuckin’ way, Mikey. That’s not how it’s goin’ down.”

  “Do you wanna carry the goddamn suitcase outta here?” he said, stony-faced. “Is that it?”

  “No,” Luscious said, determined to do things her way. “Randy can take the suitcase while you stay here keepin’ the mark busy. Me an’ Randy’ll take it to a safe place.”

  “An’ what’s your idea of a safe place?” Mikey said scornfully. “Hidin’ it under your fuckin’ bed? ’Cause when this prick emerges from his drug haze tomorrow, he’s gonna come lookin’ for you big time.”

  “Why’ll he be lookin’ for me?”

  “’Cause you’re the slut who was in his room blowin’ him.”

  “I’m not a slut, Mikey,” Luscious said, her eyes unexpectedly filling with tears. “You shouldn’t call me that. It’s your wife who’s the slut.”

  Mikey didn’t answer. He was thinking. He was coming up with a plan.

  “Got it,” he said at last. “You an’ me take the suitcase. We leave Randy an’ Seducta here. They stay until the john passes out, or whatever the fuck he’s gonna do.”

  “What if he starts lookin’ for his suitcase?”

  “If that happens, Randy’ll deal with it.”

  “How?”

  “How d’you think?”

  Luscious preferred not to think. It was one thing to steal the money, but she didn’t condone violence.

  “I’ll fill Randy in on the plan,” Mikey said. “You go shut the suitcase, ’cause any minute now we’re gettin’ outta here.”

  “What about Seducta?”

  “What about her?”

  “Are you just gonna leave her?”

  “Don’t go worryin’ about Seducta. She’s a big girl. She can look after herself.”

  “But she’s your wife,” Luscious felt obliged to point out.

  “That don’t mean nothin’ t’ me,” Mikey said coldly.

  Luscious nodded. Who was she to argue?

  Besides, her loyalty was now firmly with the money.

  * * *

  “What’re you talkin’ about?” Billy said, quickly closing the door and following Max back inside.

  “It’s Lucky. I saw her,” Max said, almost hyperventilating. “She’s walking down the path on her way here. She knows about us. What’re we going to do?”

  “First of all, we’re going to calm down,” Billy said, hiding his own panic. Nobody relished the thought of messing with the infamous Lucky Santangelo. “And second, you’re going to think about who knows you’re here.”

  “Nobody. I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Does anybody know about us?”

  “I just told you,” Max wailed. “I haven’t mentioned you to anyone.”

  “Did she see you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Let’s hope she didn’t,” Billy said, thinking fast. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. You go hide in the bathroom, an’ when she knocks on the door I’ll say I don’t know what she’s talkin’ about.”

  “Oh my God! You don’t understand. She’s gonna kill me. And you.”

  “You’re sure it was her?”

  “For God’s sake, Billy, it’s my mom. Of course I’m sure.”

  “Then where is she?”

  “I dunno,” Max said blankly. “Where is she?”

  They both rushed over to the window and peered out.

  Lucky was there, all right. She was just about to enter the opposite villa.

  * * *

  Their plan was in action. While Luscious was blocking Armand’s view, Mikey was lugging the money suitcase to the door. It was heavier than he’d expected, too heavy for him to make it to the car. He needed help from Randy, the ox with no brains who was currently in la-la land along with Seducta and the john. But Luscious didn’t want that. Luscious wasn’t having him and Randy skip out with the money, because Luscious was just about smart enough to know that once they had the money, they weren’t hanging around. Well, he wasn’t anyway. Randy could do what the fuck he liked. If Randy wanted to stay in Vegas with a crackhead he could do just that. But Mikey had no intention of staying. Once he had the suitcase in the car, he was hitting the road. Too bad about Seducta and Randy; they were on their own.

  Luscious was something else. She could be useful. But would she leave without Randy?

  Mikey wasn’t sure.

  He had the money suitcase by the door. Luscious had turned the music back on so that the john wouldn’t hear when he opened it. The moment he got it outside the villa, he and Luscious would get it to Randy’s car.

  Money.

  Freedom.

  Fuck Vegas.

  He opened the door and came face-to-face with a woman. A beautiful woman with deep olive skin and clouds of black hair.

  For a second or two Mikey was confused. Was she a late-night call girl the john had ordered?

 
No. Couldn’t be. She didn’t look like a hooker. She looked like a fucking movie star.

  They stared at each other for a long silent moment. Lucky and Mikey.

  Finally Lucky broke the silence. She was cool and collected. Nothing threw Lucky, she always expected the unexpected.

  “And who are you?” she questioned, staring down a sinister-looking man with blackout shades covering his eyes and a vicious scowl.

  Mikey was not one bit intimidated. “Who the fuck are you?” he retaliated.

  “I’m here to see Armand Jordan. Where can I find him?”

  Mikey indicated the room behind him as he dragged the money suitcase past her. “In there,” he said. “Go join the party. You’ll fit right in.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Things were winding down at Mood; it was late, and the music was becoming mellower, while most of the clientele were getting ready to call it a night.

  Lennie was mad at himself. He should’ve left when Lucky wanted to go, but Alex and his attitude pissed him off, so he’d stayed—kind of like a screw-you gesture toward Alex. Yes, Alex Woods was one of the few people who managed to annoy him with his superior ways, and his constant lusting after Lucky.

  Ah … Lucky. His beautiful, unpredictable wife. Later she would laugh at him, tease him about his ongoing feud with Alex. And they would make love as they always did before sleeping. Lucky was the woman of his dreams. She completed him, she always had.

  He sought out M.J. and told him he was leaving.

  “Did Lucky solve that problem?” M.J. asked.

  “What problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” M.J. said, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said anything. “She made a call, told me she had to take care of something urgent, then left. She wanted me to tell you that she’d see you back at the apartment.”

  “Thanks for the information,” Lennie said, frowning. “How come you didn’t wait until tomorrow to tell me?”

  “Sorry,” M.J. said, a tad sheepishly. “I kinda forgot.”

  Lennie shook his head. If Lucky had a problem to solve, why hadn’t she come to him?

  Then again, why would she? Lucky always took care of things on her own terms. She copied Gino in that respect.

  The Santangelos. Father and daughter. Two tough birds.

  Lennie wouldn’t have them any other way. He was proud to be part of the Santangelo family, just as Lucky was proud to be Mrs. Golden.

  He wondered if the problem had anything to do with Max. His daughter hadn’t seemed too happy earlier. And she should’ve been ecstatic, considering she was about to turn eighteen. Now it was way past midnight, so she was already eighteen.

  He had a surprise present for her, a present he hadn’t even told Lucky about because she would accuse him of spoiling Max. But hey, he wanted to spoil her. What the hell—eighteen only came along once in a lifetime; why not enjoy it with a brand-new silver BMW?

  Lucky would kill him, but death would be worth it when he saw the look on Max’s face.

  * * *

  “You are not coming in!” Cookie shrieked as Frankie tried in vain to get her to open the door of their room.

  “Why not?” he demanded. “If I’m correct, it was you who ran out on me. I’m the innocent party.”

  “Innocent my ass!” Cookie yelled through the closed door. “You were so far up my dad’s butt that you didn’t even notice I was gone.”

  “Sure I did,” Frankie answered soothingly. “I missed you like crazy.”

  “No you didn’t. If you had, you would’ve called or texted.”

  “Maybe you should let me in so we can discuss this like two adults.”

  “No!”

  “You’re behavin’ like a child.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Is that all you got to say?”

  “Here’s somethin’ else. Good-bye.”

  “For crissakes, Cookie, at least let me get my bags.”

  “No!” she shouted, still steaming. “You made me ruin my hair, and I hate you.”

  Frankie could not believe he was getting the boot, and from a teenager, no less.

  And what had he done?

  Nothing.

  Scowling, he turned around and headed for the elevator.

  * * *

  Peggy had never considered herself a lesbian, but then neither had Paige. They were merely two heterosexual women who found they could enjoy an occasional walk on the wild side. And wild it was.

  Peggy could not recall Sidney making her come the way Paige had. In fact, Paige took her back to the early Vegas days, when sex really mattered and orgasms were a daily occurrence.

  Paige knew her way around the female anatomy. She’d taken control, and Peggy had enjoyed every second.

  When they were finished, Paige dressed and murmured that she had to get back to Gino before he awoke.

  “I wish you could stay the night,” Peggy found herself saying.

  “So do I,” Paige said. “I don’t like leaving Gino for too long. He’s old; one never knows. However, you’ll come to his granddaughter’s party tomorrow, and maybe after that…”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Peggy murmured.

  And then Paige was gone, and once again Peggy found herself alone with her thoughts. Soon she would have to confront Armand about his choice of female companions.

  She was his mother, it was her duty.

  * * *

  Ellie was clicking away. “Plenty of activity going on here,” she remarked, almost to herself. “I’m just taking pictures, we’ll see what we’ve got later. I think we have a definite bonanza.”

  “You think?” Kev said, attempting to stretch his aching legs. Crouching in the bushes was not for him, although it didn’t seem to bother Ellie. She was into all the comings and goings, and there were plenty. It seemed there was a party taking place in the villa across from Billy’s, and Ellie was capturing plenty of images as people came and went.

  “We need to know who the girl is with Billy,” Ellie said. “Think you can find out?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Kev replied. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  * * *

  After a while, Ace realized it didn’t look like Max was getting back to the hotel anytime soon. Cookie had told him she’d had to meet Lucky, but he wasn’t sure he believed her. Now it was past one in the morning and he’d had it. He hadn’t driven all the way to Vegas to be treated like this. After all, it wasn’t as if Max had acted like she was thrilled to see him. No. He’d had to hang out with her crazy friends all night, sit through a painful concert, and then she’d taken off. To do what?

  He didn’t know, and he didn’t care anymore. She was treating him as if he didn’t matter, and he wanted out.

  He took the present he’d brought her and placed the box on the bed. Then he wrote “Happy Birthday” on a piece of hotel stationery and left it on top.

  After that, he grabbed his overnight bag and took off.

  Max was no longer his problem.

  * * *

  And still Fouad found it impossible to sleep. He’d tried everything: watching a movie on TV, ordering a hot drink from room service, lying perfectly still and allowing his mind to go blank.

  Nothing worked.

  Somehow he couldn’t shake the thought that something was going on with Armand, something bad.

  Over the past few weeks, Armand’s drug use had escalated to the point where he did not seem to be in control of his actions anymore. Sleeping with Martin Constantine’s wife, then throwing her out of his apartment was a prime example of behavior gone wild. And then there was the embarrassing scene with Lucky Santangelo and the empty threats Armand had hurled at her. Not to mention his ongoing addiction to prostitutes.

  Armand was in a bad place, and although Fouad resented the way he’d been treated lately, he still felt a certain responsibility toward Armand. Perhaps this was not the right time to desert him.

  On a whim, Fouad decided to get dressed and take a wa
lk.

  What harm would it do to stroll past Armand’s villa and make sure everything was all right?

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Always expect the unexpected was one of Lucky’s mottos, along with Never fuck with a Santangelo. So she wasn’t surprised to observe the tableau that greeted her when she entered Armand’s villa. A man awash in cocaine, a crack pipe, and champagne. That would be Armand. Another man, big and brawny—perhaps a bodyguard—joining in the activities. And a naked woman.

  It occurred to Lucky that this was not the perfect moment to tear him a new asshole. He wouldn’t understand, he wouldn’t get it. Armand Jordan was completely trashed. If asked, he probably wouldn’t even remember his own name.

  What a shame; she’d been so looking forward to putting him straight.

  She stood stock-still, staring at the scene that greeted her. The woman with mammoth breasts noticed her first. “Wanna join?” the woman slurred, waving her over. “Plenny fer everyone.”

  Lucky shook her head and thought how pathetic Armand Jordan was. He didn’t deserve her wrath. Who would believe anything he said anyway? He was a nothing, a nobody. He wasn’t worth her time.

  She turned around and started to leave, only to find the man she’d first encountered blocking her way at the door.

  He wasn’t wasted like the others. He was stone-cold sober, and he wanted to know who she was and what exactly she wanted.

  “You first,” she said, unable to stare him down because of his dark glasses, which she found most irritating.

  “I asked what you want here,” Mikey repeated. “This is a private party.”

  “Didn’t you just tell me that I’d fit right in?” Lucky said, noticing the bulge of a gun at his waist.

  “Don’t get cutesy with me,” Mikey said, signaling Luscious. “What’d you come here for?”

  Luscious rushed to his side, gave Lucky a filthy look, and said, “Who’s this?”

  “That’s what I’m tryin’ t’ find out,” Mikey said, fast losing patience. “’Cause she don’t belong here.”

  “You’re so right I don’t,” Lucky agreed amicably. “Only I’m beginning to think that neither do you.”

  * * *