Drop Dead Beautiful

by Jackie Collins

  After a few days he got bored as usual, and informed her he was leaving for Las Vegas on yet another business trip. She wasn’t sorry to see him go.

  A few days before Anthony was due to leave for the opening of the Keys, one of the guards from his house appeared at his office and badgered his assistant, telling her that he had to see Señor Bonar regarding a matter of great urgency.

  His assistant asked what it was in reference to. The guard replied that it was of utmost importance that he speak to Señor Bonar personally.

  “Send him in,” Anthony said, puffing on a large cigar.

  The man entered his office and planted himself in front of his desk. Anthony did not invite him to sit.

  “Whaddya want?” he snapped. “Make it quick.”

  “I am Cesar,” the guard said. “I have worked for you two years, Señor Bonar. I come here to tell you something of a delicate nature.”

  “Spit it out,” Anthony growled, leaning back in his leather chair.

  “My circumstances are such that I need to buy a new car,” Cesar said, his greedy eyes darting around the office.

  Was this son of a bitch blackmailing him? Information in return for a car. Anthony couldn’t believe the stones on this guy. It was outrageous.

  “What information you got that gets you a fuckin’ car?” he snarled.

  “Private information, Señor Bonar,” Cesar said, standing up ramrod straight. “Information you would not want to go any further.”

  “I wouldn’t, huh?” Anthony said, expelling a stream of acrid smoke in Cesar’s direction.

  “No, señor.”

  “Okay, we’ll do it this way. You tell me what’s on your mind, an’ if it’s worth anything I’ll give you cash. An’ if it’s bullshit, you get nothin’. That fair enough for you?”

  “Sí, señor.”

  “Okay, let’s hear what you got.”

  Cesar glanced toward the door. “It is sensitive, Señor Bonar.”

  “Speak!”

  “I regretfully tell you, señor, that a person who should be trustworthy is not,” Cesar said, clearing his throat. “This man is taking advantage of your wife.”

  “What the fuck you sayin’?” Anthony said, sitting bolt upright.

  “There is a man working on your estate, señor, who is doing bad things with your wife.”

  “Whaddya mean, bad things?” Anthony said, a muscle twitching beneath his left eye. “Is he raping her? Takin’ money from her? What the fuck d’you mean?”

  “This man enters your house when you are not there. He stays many hours. He spends time in your bedroom with the señora.”

  “Who is this person?” Anthony demanded, his eyes cold as steel.

  “One of your gardeners, señor.” Cesar paused, experiencing a moment of deep satisfaction before continuing. “His name is Luis.”

  “You sure about this?” Anthony said, staring him down.

  “Sí, señor.”

  “Absolutely fuckin’ sure?”

  “Sí, señor,” Cesar said, blinking rapidly several times.

  Anthony unlocked his desk drawer, took out a wad of cash, and threw it at Cesar. “Take this and get the fuck outta my office. An’ if you open your mouth to anyone ’bout this—anyone at all—I cut out your fuckin’ tongue with a buzz saw. Get it?”

  “Sí, señor.” Cesar said, backing out of the office.

  The moment he left, Anthony began pacing. This couldn’t be true, could it? This couldn’t be possible that Irma, his wife, and a gardener on his estate were having sex. In his house. On his bed.

  Some other man fucking his wife.

  It was unthinkable.

  And yet … this stupid guard had come to him with the information, and why would the man lie? Why would he put himself in jeopardy?

  Anthony thought back to Acapulco and the change in Irma. She was insolent, withdrawn, and looks-wise she was glowing.

  Yes! It was true! The bitch was getting fucked! And not by him.

  After simmering for a while, Anthony summoned The Grill into his office.

  “This is what I want you t’do,” he said, issuing instructions. “An’ make sure ya take care of it immediately.”

  Several hours after Anthony left the house, he called Irma from his office and informed her he was sending his car for her, and that she was to meet him in the city for lunch.

  Lunch? In the city? She’d thought he was on his way to Vegas.

  “I’m not sure …” she began.

  “There’s somebody I want you to meet,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “A business acquaintance. The car’ll be there shortly.”

  Irma was ready when the car arrived. She was also apprehensive that somehow or other Anthony might have found out about Oliver. Over the past two weeks she’d received several calls from her dinner date, none of which she’d returned.

  What if Oliver called while she was with Anthony? What if she bumped into him in the city?

  This was not an ideal situation. Her nerves were on edge, and for now her plans were on hold.

  Sitting behind his ornate desk, Anthony put down his phone and stared off into space. Who would have thought that his wife would betray him? Carlita? Yes. Irma? No.

  Soon he would know for sure. And once he did, Irma would be punished in a way that would hurt her more than she could possibly imagine.

  Nobody cheated on Anthony Bonar and got away with it. Nobody.

  Chapter 67

  Max came up with what she considered to be a brilliant idea. Once again she ran it by Lennie, who was so into his upcoming movie he would’ve said yes to anything.

  “Uh … there’s this boy,” she informed him. “And when I got carjacked he kind of helped me. So …” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I was, uh, thinking I could return the favor by inviting him to the Keys opening.”

  “What did Lucky say?” Lennie asked, barely looking up from his computer.

  “She said yes.”

  “Okay. Go ahead, invite him.”

  Later she phoned Lucky in Vegas and had the same conversation. Lucky was so into the opening of her hotel she would’ve said yes to anything. Well—almost anything.

  “What did Lennie say?” Lucky asked.

  “He said yes,” Max replied, cheerfully lying.

  “Then I don’t see why not.”

  How cool was this? She’d wrangled an invite for Ace to attend the opening, and she was determined he’d accept. They’d been speaking on the phone regularly since he’d finally called her back. She’d been delighted to hear from him, ridiculously so. And was it her imagination, or did he sound equally pleased to hear from her?

  Yes, he did. She was sure of it.

  Since they’d reconnected they’d been talking every day. He never mentioned his girlfriend. She never mentioned her nonexistent boyfriend. They talked about everything from their ordeal to music to movies to books. In fact, they talked nonstop.

  She found out he was working as a ski instructor and saving up to one day open his own ski shop.

  “No college?” she’d asked.

  “The most successful people in America never went to college,” he’d informed her. “And one of these days I’m gonna have a chain of ski shops in every resort in America.”

  He was ambitious, and so interesting and different from all the rich kids she’d grown up with. But best of all, he was so hot! And she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  Things seemed comparatively calm on the Venus/Billy front. She was busy with her various projects, plus rehearsing for Vegas. And he was busy finishing up on Alex’s movie.

  They both decided that for the Vegas trip they would drive up on Venus’s tour bus as opposed to flying. Billy’s movie wrapped the day before they were due to leave, and Venus opted out of attending the wrap party. “You’ll be bonding with the crew, and saying your good-byes,” she pointed out. “It’s better I don’t come.”

  “If you’re sure,” B
illy said. “ ’Cause you know I’d love to have you there.”

  “No, you go. If you feel like it, you can drop by my house later.”

  “Sounds like an invite I can’t refuse.”

  “I appreciate a man who can’t refuse me,” she purred.

  Ever since the fight with Alex, Billy had been on his best behavior. Venus honestly felt they were right back on track. It was a satisfying feeling.

  Billy and Kev went together to the wrap party on sound stage 3. The place was jammed with crew members and their significant others, most of whom were desperate to get their picture taken with Billy. He obliged, until after about twenty minutes he was startled to see Miss Broken Taillight—alias Ali—flittering around in her cutoff denims and skimpy tank top, long sexy legs tanned and appealing.

  “What’s she doin’ here?” he muttered to Kev, who looked a bit sheepish and mumbled something about inviting her. “Why’d you do that?” Billy asked.

  “ ’Cause she’s a sweet kid,” Kev said, heading for the bar.

  “Yeah, and she gives a sweet blow job, right?” Billy remarked, following him.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Kev said, requesting a beer. “You didn’t seem to object.”

  “I don’t wanna see her around,” Billy lectured. “If Venus had come with me tonight, it would’ve been awkward.”

  “Why?” Kev said, handing Billy a bottle of imported beer. “She’s not gonna run up to Venus and say, ‘Oh, I screwed your boyfriend,’ is she?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me,” Billy said pointedly.

  “Did you hear that Alex gave her a line?”

  “How’d that happen?” Billy said, swigging beer.

  “Guess Maggie worked her magic.”

  “At least it gets her off my case,” Billy grumbled, still not happy.

  “There’s somethin’ I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Kev began, looking embarrassed.

  “What now?” Billy sighed.

  “I’m kinda into her,” Kev admitted. “Like I’m thinking of taking her to the party in Vegas.”

  “You fuckin’ nuts?” Billy said, frowning.

  “No, I kinda promised I’d take her.”

  “Jeez, Kev!”

  “She lives in a rat hole in Hollywood with two gay guys and another girl. I feel sorry for her. I was over there the other night—the place is a pit.”

  “What’s that got t’do with anything?”

  “Have a little heart. She’s trying hard to make it, workin’ any job she can. It’s that same old story—she comes from a broken home, took the bus to L.A. to get away from her stepdad, and ended up livin’ on the street until she hooked up with friends.”

  “So now you’re the knight with a permanent hard-on who’s gonna save her. Right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Of all the girls in L.A. you had to pick this one,” Billy said, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Anyway,” Kev said, “thought I should give you a heads-up.”

  “That’s big of you, Kev.”

  “Oh yeah, an’ I made her swear she’ll never mention anything to Venus about gettin’ it on with you.”

  “She’d better not, ’cause if she does, your ass is freakin’ fired.”

  “No worries,” Kev said confidently.

  “I know I shouldn’t be the one saying this, but my hotel is amazing,” Lucky raved to Venus over the phone. “Totally amazing and perfect and great. Better than I could possibly have imagined. Gino will love it.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Venus said. “Can’t wait to get there and check it out for myself.”

  “We have a luxurious penthouse suite ready for you and Billy with its own pool and an incredible view of the Strip. Massage therapists are on alert, and anything else you want. Put in your requests now.”

  “I’ll ask Billy. Maybe a pool table.”

  “Already in your suite.”

  “A Jacuzzi.”

  “Both inside and out.”

  “How about a stripper pole?”

  “Done!”

  “I’m joking.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’m so pleased you’re coming up the night before, so is Lennie,” Lucky said. “We’ll have a great dinner, just the four of us. I’ve been testing all the restaurants. The food is sensational, world-class chefs everywhere I turn.”

  “Billy and I are driving up, which means I’m not sure what time we’ll get there.”

  “Driving, huh?”

  “We’re using my tour bus—thought it might be fun.”

  “Hmm … five or six hours on a bus. Doesn’t sound like fun to me. Are you sure I can’t send a plane for you?”

  “No thanks. I can assure you—five or six hours on my bus with Billy is gonna rock!”

  “Okay, so travel safely, I’ll be thinking of you.”

  Lucky put down the phone and surveyed her kingdom from the window of her penthouse. It was true. Everything about the Keys was looking awesome and the hotel section was already running like a smoothly oiled machine. Her general manager was a real pro; so were the dozen or so undermanagers.

  Since she’d planned and built two hotels before, she was well aware of what mistakes to avoid. Organization was the name of the game, especially for opening night, and especially with planeloads of celebrities flying in, and a ton of press waiting to cover the event.

  It was going to be the most special and spectacular night Vegas had ever seen.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 68

  During the car tide to Anthony’s office Irma’s mind was darting in many different directions. What did he want with her? Was it possible that he’d found out about Oliver?

  One never knew with Anthony. He’d become so adept at completely ignoring her existence that being summoned to his office was quite alarming. When had Anthony ever been interested in her opinion of his business acquaintances?

  He greeted her with an affectionate hug.

  “Where are we going for lunch?” she asked. “And who is it that you want me to meet?”

  “That was just my way of gettin’ you here,” he said. “Is it a crime to wanna have lunch with my wife for a change?”

  “Of course not,” she stammered, completely thrown.

  He took her to the most expensive restaurant in the city for lunch, and all through the meal he was overly attentive toward her.

  Something was definitely going on. She felt uncomfortable and horribly guilty about her one night with Oliver Stanton.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked when they were almost finished.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, tapping his fingers on the table.

  “I thought you were leaving for Las Vegas, and then you call me for lunch.”

  “You had something else to do?” he questioned, staring her down.

  “Not at all,” she answered, lowering her eyes.

  “I’ve bin thinkin’ that I should spend more time with you.”

  “Do you mean traveling?” she said hesitantly.

  “Yeah, why not? We got the place in Miami, the apartment in New York—there’s no reason you can’t come with me sometimes.”

  “I thought you wanted me to stay in the house here,” she said, picking at her dessert.

  “It might not be such a bad idea for you to spend more time with the kids. Eduardo’s a surly little bastard, an’ Carolina’s growin’ up fast. Could be she needs a mother around.”

  Was there a light at the end of the tunnel? Had she picked the wrong time to leave him? Could it be that Anthony was actually softening?

  After they left the restaurant, he led her down the street to a jewelry store, greeted the owner, whom he knew, and instructed her to pick out a gift for herself. “Choose anythin’ you want,” he said, lighting up a cigar. “Anythin’ you think you deserve.”

  “It’s not my birthday, Anthony,” she murmured.

  “I know that, but I feel like bei
n’ generous. I can spoil my own wife, can’t I?”

  Was he sick? Did he have a brain tumor?