"Yeah, that's why he married me off at sixteen."
"He real y did that, huh?"
"You'd better believe it. I was the perfect little Washington wife. Craven and I lived with the Richmonds in their tasteful mansion while I played good little wifey-pie at al the fancy functions. And guess what? Peter Richmond is going to run for President one of these days. Ain't that the laugh of the century?"
"Whatever happened to husband number one?"
"Ah, Craven. He met a girl who liked horses. And I can assure you, a horse is about the only thing she'l ever find between her legs!"
Lennie burst out laughing. "Hey, lady--I love it when you talk dirty."
She grinned. "Why do you think I do it?"
"To turn me on."
"You got it!"
He pul ed her to him. "Come here, wife."
She pushed him gently away. "Not now."
"How come?"
" 'Cause we gotta go out like normal people. We can't make out the entire weekend."
"Why not?"
"No, Lennie," she said firmly, trying not to give in. He sighed with disappointment. "O. K., so what are we going to do?"
"Visit my brother. Unless you want to work. That, I'l understand."
"I've been locked up here so long I'm stir-crazy." "Can I read the script soon?" she asked eagerly. "I told you--not until it's finished."
"When wil that be?"
"I'm heading toward a rough draft."
"I can read it then, huh?"
"We'l see."
"Bul shit! I'm reading it, Lennie!"
"That's what I love about you--Little Miss Reticent!"
She cal ed Gino, who sounded pleased to hear from her.
"So you're back. It's about time," he said good-naturedly.
"I sure am."
"Everything go according to plan?"
"It sure did."
"Hey--you broken the news to Lennie?"
"I sure haven't." She made a quick change of subject. "How about lunch today? I'd like to see Steven and Mary Lou. Is she at home? How's the baby?" "Hey, hey, one question at a time. Yeah, they're al at home. It's a good idea. Steven's been missing you." "We thought we'd pick up lunch and come over. Wil you cal Steven and warn him?"
"You got it, kid. Family reunion, huh?"
"Can't wait, Gino."
Boogie drove them to Zabar's and then Lucky decided she needed to pick up gifts at Bloomingdale's, where she ran riot in the baby department, selecting hundreds of dol ars'
worth of toys and clothes.
"What's Mary Lou going to do with al this stuff?" Lennie asked, exasperated.
"Use it."
"Very funny. Can we leave?"
"Let's go."
Loaded down with packages, they made it to the elevator, where Lennie was recognized and a crowd began to surround him. They had to run to get out of there.
Laughing and giggling, they piled into the car.
"I'm glad to see you're stil a star," Lucky joked. "I thought you might have lost it."
"Yeah. I real y get off on being mobbed in good old Bloomie's," he said wryly.
"I love you." Gently she touched the side of his face. "And I missed you more than you can imagine." "Don't get sloppy on me, I can't take the pressure."
Giggling, she stuck her tongue out.
"Nice tongue!" he said admiringly.
"Keep this up an' you ain't never gonna know just how nice!"
Boogie sat impassively in the driving seat. "Where to?" he asked.
"Steven's house," Lucky said. "And fast." She turned to Lennie. "Have you spoken to Brigette?" "Not lately. I promised she could stay with us in Malibu."
"Great. Maybe we'l al fly back together on Sunday night."
"What's your hurry?"
"We don't want to hang around here, do we? It's hot and muggy, and we've got that great beach house sitting empty."
He shrugged. "Whatever you like. I can pack in five minutes."
"So . . . what are we waiting for? You'l finish your script at the beach. It'l be sensational. A real family summer, right?"
"Yeah, al the better to deal with the lawyers," he said grimly:
"I keep tel ing you, relax. They're not going to sue."
"Don't bet on it, Lucky."
"Oh, I'm betting. And I'm right."
Steven greeted her with a big hug and a kiss. "Where have you been?"
"Japan," she lied. "I learned to give a great back rub. Can I see the baby?"
Mary Lou smiled proudly. "Come on, we'l take you up to her room."
"What did you name her?" Lucky asked.
"Carioca Jade," Steven replied.
"Carioca Jade," Steven replied.
Lennie nodded wisely. "That'l get her through school with no problems."
"It's a beautiful name," Lucky enthused.
Carioca Jade was a cute little bundle, smal , helpless, and appealing.
Steven picked her up and handed her to Lucky. "Say hel o to Auntie," he said.
"Auntie?" Lucky exclaimed. "That makes me feel ancient!"
* "Wel , you're not exactly a kid anymore," Lennie pointed out.
"Thanks!" She peered at the baby. "I'l be picking up my old age pension next week! Steven, Mary Lou --this child is gorgeous!"
"I did my best," Steven said modestly.
"You did your best!" Mary Lou objected.
"It wasn't easy," Steven joked.
Mary Lou picked up a cushion and threw it at him. "Get outta here!"
Gino turned up shortly after. Once more he asked Lucky if she'd told Lennie about Panther.
"I wil ," she said. "Quit bugging me."
"When?"
"What's the big deal? I'l tel him tonight. I want to savor the moment."
"Are you sure he likes surprises?"
"Don't worry about it, Gino. He'l be delighted." They spent a couple of hours at the house and then wandered off on their own. She'd given Boogie the rest of the weekend free.
"What do you want to do?" Lennie said, as they strol ed along the street hand in hand.
Lucky smiled. "You're always asking me that. More important, what do you want to do?"
"Whatever makes you happy."
"Can we walk around like normal people, or wil you be recognized again?"
"We can walk around like normal people. I'l avoid eye contact. I've discovered being recognized is a state of mind. If you want them to recognize you, they do, and if you don't, they don't. It's that simple." "This is what I'd like to do,"
she decided. "Go to a movie. Eat popcorn and spil it al over myself. Feel sick, have one of those horrible fizzy orange drinks. And then I want to go home and make love al night long, Can we do that?"
"You know something? That's why I'm crazy about you. We have exactly the same tastes." He took a beat. "Woody Al en?"
She answered instantly. "But of course."
They lined up for a Woody Al en film. Saw it. Loved it. And talked about it al the way home.
It wasn't until they were back in his rented loft that Lucky looked at him, started to laugh and said, "Hey, wait a minute, we own a luxury apartment in New York. What are we doing in this dump?"
"It's romantic," Lennie replied. "Nobody knows we're here.
No phone cal s. No nothing. We'l stay tonight and take off for L. A. tomorrow."
"Suits me."
"And now what do you want?"
She couldn't help thinking to herself how much she loved him. And how much she'd missed him. "I want Chinese food, Marvin Gaye music, and great sex. What do you want?"
"Indian food, Bil ie Holiday, and great sex."
"I guess if we can't make up our mind about the food, it'l have to wait."
"I guess so."
She shrugged. "And if we can't make up our mind about Marvin or Bil ie, same thing, Nth?"
He shrugged too.
"Wel . . ." she said slowly, "it looks like there's nothing else left to do except . . ."
Together th
ey shouted it out: "Great sex!"
And then, laughing, they fel into each other's arms.
Chapter 55
Webster's idea of the park was certainly not Tavern on the Green. Deena, clad from head to toe in Chanel, discovered this when he arrived to pick her up.
"We're going on a picnic," he informed her. She raised an imperious eyebrow. "Real y?" "Why not?" he asked. "It'l be a blast."
She didn't want to reveal that grown women with rich husbands, dressed in Chanel, did not picnic in the park.
"I'm hardly dressed for it," she pointed out. "Go change."
"I don't think so," she said.
He stared at her with his intense eyes. "Do I make you nervous?"
She gave an amused laugh. "How could you possibly make me nervous? I've known you since you were a baby."
"Go change, Deena," he said.
He seemed determined, so she capitulated, hurried upstairs, took off Chanel and put on a Christian Dior track suit and jogging shoes.
Paul waited in the front hal . Deena wondered what her houseman thought. What could he think? After al , Paul was young enough to be her . . . younger brother.
Martin was safely at the office. He always left early on Saturday mornings, never returning until six or seven at night. He did the same on Sundays. Sometimes they spent the weekend at their Connecticut house. When they did, Martin usual y spent his entire time on the phone or receiving FAXes. Martin was a true workaholic. He found it difficult to relax.
Did The Bitch make him relax?
Did The Bitch make him forget business for more than five minutes at a time?
Deena tried to put the thought from her mind. It wasn't healthy to ponder about Martin and Venus Maria. If she shut it out, maybe that relationship would fade away and Martin would be al hers again. And if that failed to happen . . . if The Bitch tried to take it further .. .
Deena sighed. She had her solution.
Paul greeted her when she reappeared. "You're a real sport," he said, looking her up and down. "Now we can relax and enjoy ourselves."
"How are we going to get there?" she asked when they hit the street, already regretting her decision to go with him.
He took her hand. "We're walking."
She quickly pul ed her hand away. "I don't walk." He stared at her quizzical y. "You don't walk? That's funny--seems to me your legs look like they're moving one in front of the other."
"Don't be facetious, Paul. We'l take a cab."
He was intent on asserting his manhood. "We'l walk."
Deena hid behind a pair of large black sunglasses and hoped she wouldn't bump into any of her friends. Not that there was anything wrong with strol ing through the city with Effie's young son. But stil .. . She entered Central Park as if she were taking a trip on the wild side. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in such close proximity to so many people. Deena led her life in a rarefied atmosphere, and she wasn't comfortable getting down among the people.
But she had to admit it made a change. And the attentive Paul Webster was certainly an intriguing young man.
Besides, she needed someone to tel her she was beautiful, intel igent, and attractive--al the things Martin usual y forgot to mention.
"Guess where Paul's gone today?" Nona said, struggling into a pair of too-tight jeans.
"Where?" replied Brigette, biting into an apple. "He's taking old lady Deena Swanson to lunch. Are you ready for that?"
Brigette almost choked. No, she was not ready for that.
Swal owing her hurt feelings she said, "Why?" Then added,
"How do you know?"
"I know everything," Nona replied confidently, final y closing the zipper on her jeans. "I listened in on the phone when he cal ed her."
"Does he like her?" Brigette asked casual y. "Do you like him?" Nona asked, not so casual y.
"Don't be crazy," Brigette replied, trying to look cool.
"I think you do," Nona said, very sure of herself. Before Brigette could reply, Effie swept into the room. "There's a phone cal for you, Brigette, dear. It's your stepfather, Lennie Golden. We'd love to meet him sometime. Ask him over for drinks."
Brigette was pleased. She thought Lennie had forgotten her. "What shal I tel him?" she asked Nona. "Tel him he's got us whenever he wants," Nona said. "You have got us whenever he wants," Nona said. "You have mentioned I'm coming, haven't you?"
Brigette looked vague. "Sure."
Nona made a face. "Bet you haven't--do so now." "I wil ,"
said Brigette, rushing to the phone. Lennie sounded like his old self. He said the Malibu trip was on, and, yes, she could bring a friend. They agreed that she and Nona would fly out in a week. Nona was delighted. "Can't wait to meet your stepfather," she said excitedly. "Is he as hot as he looks on the screen?"
"Lennie? Hot?" Brigette almost laughed aloud. She'd never thought of him in that way, although of course he did have quite a fol owing.
On reflection she considered he probably was hot. "You don't fancy him, do you?" she teased Nona. "Not as much as I fancy Tom Cruise," Nona replied, grabbing her jacket.
"Come on. Let's go shopping. I can't wait to buy the smal est bikini anybody's ever seen in their entire life!"
Bert Slocombe figured he was the smartest reporter in town. Wel , reporter-photographer real y, because he never went anywhere without his little camera cleverly concealed on his person. Bert was known to be the best at getting the goods on the rich and famous--which was exactly why they'd put him on Swanson watch.
That morning he'd considered fol owing Martin Swanson, but a hunch had made him decide to concentrate on Deena instead. And sure enough, his hunch paid off. The stylish Mrs. Swanson emerged from her house just after noon, al togged out in a fancy jogging outfit. She was accompanied by some young geezer who kept giving her lustful looks.
Bert recognized a lustful look from five hundred yards.
Happily he settled in behind them as they made their way to the park. He'd known something good was up the moment she'd left her house and didn't immediately climb into a chauffeured limousine. Deena Swanson walking to the park was picture enough. But add some young stud, and it real y made a front page scandal shot. Nothing like a wel -known married woman playing around to sel magazines.
Especial y with a younger man.
Bert wondered who the kid was. He was good-looking enough with his long hair and one smal gold. earring in his earlobe. Maybe he was a rock star. Those rock-and-rol ers managed to get in everywhere.
No, Bert decided. He didn't recognize him, and he was familiar with most of the long-haired brigade. When they arrived at the park, the young guy pul ed out a blanket from the bag he carried and laid it out on the grass.
Bert thought he'd died and gone to heaven.
He could see Deena arguing--she obviously wasn't used to this kind of outing--but she sat on the grass anyway, making it an easy job for Bert to scoot around behind a tree and shoot some great pictures.
The two of them stayed in the park for over an hour. Bert was hoping the guy would make a move on her. No such luck. A lot of talk, and that was it.
He wished he could hear what they were saying.
Impossible, couldn't make himself too obvious. As it was he was flitting around behind trees like a secret jerk-off artist.
He managed to get one picture he knew was going to be special. Deena had a wasp or something trapped in her hair and the kid leaned forward to brush it out. Of course, the gul ible public wouldn't know what he was doing. It looked like he was about to give her a hot, wet one ful on the lips.
Bert fol owed them back to Deena's house and lingered for a moment. Sure enough, the young guy emerged almost immediately, and Bert fel into step a discreet distance behind him. May as wel put a name to the kid.
He chuckled to himself. This story, combined with the Venus Maria stuff, was going to be bigger than ever. He couldn't wait to give Dennis the good news in L. A.
Chapter 56
Once
she was rid of Emilio, Venus Maria spoke to Ron on the phone.
"And where were you last night?" he asked crisply. Ron always liked to know everyone's business.
"At Spago."
"Hitting the town, are we? Who was your fortunate escort?"
"Cooper."
"Hmm . . ." Ron was intrigued. "And did we final y do the deed?"
She sighed. "No, Ron. We did not do the deed. Cooper and I are just friends. Why even ask a question like that?"
"Because I know you. You're not exactly a patient wench, and if you can't have Martin al the way, you're hardly going to wait forever."
She twirled the cord of the phone. "What makes you so certain I can't have Martin al the way?" "He's not gettable,"
Ron said firmly. "He's taken."
"I can get any man I want," Venus Maria replied, ful of bravado.
"Show me," Ron taunted.
It infuriated her that Ron always thought he had to chal enge her. "I'l show you al right," she snapped, hoping to shut him up. "Talk to you later." She hung up without giving him a chance to say another word.
In a couple of weeks they were supposed to begin serious rehearsals for her upcoming "Soft Seduction" tour. She planned to hit twenty-two cities. A grueling prospect but one she looked forward to. The "Soft Seduction" album would be released at the same time, along with her video of the title track. She was filming the video next week. It was to be directed by the famous Italian photographer Antonio, a good friend of hers.
Ron was pissed off because he'd wanted to direct it.-She'd tried to explain that sometimes a change was good for everyone, but Ron was in a sulk about it, even though he'd done al the choreography.
In the video she was to play three roles: a beautiful, seductive woman; a handsome gigolo-type man; and a half woman-half man creature. As usual, it would create controversy and criticism. That was the whole point. Her fans would love it, they'd go "Soft Seduction" crazy. She was going to give them the Venus Maria they real y craved.
As far as her fans were concerned, Venus Maria could do no wrong. She was their video queen. Their princess. She was everything they aspired to be. Dangerous. Stylish. A woman unafraid in a world run by men. A fuck-you woman.
The thought of the upcoming tour excited her. She'd only been out on the road once before, and that was right before her career took off, just after her first hit record. At the time she'd been too inexperienced to understand the intricate interaction between audience and artist. Now she knew it was going to be a sensational blast--some kind of heady exchange of energy and power between star and fans. And after the tour, if the script was changed to her liking, she was to star in Mickey Stol i's big movie Bombshel --a role coveted by every young actress in Hol ywood.
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