That shut her up. Grinning, she watched him in the mirror as he attended to her hair.
Saxon had a lot of admiration for Venus Maria. Not only was she a superstar with a ful work schedule, but she also found time to support causes and charities she believed in.
She worked hard for AIDS and also Mothers Against Drunk Driving and the Rape Crisis Center. She preferred to keep her efforts quiet so they would not be construed as publicity opportunities. "Since we're on the personal-question kick,"
he ventured, "what's happening with you and Martin Swanson?" *
"Now you sound like Ron," she groaned. "That's al he wants to know."
"You can confide in me. Who am / going to tel ?" "Oh, just about every woman in Beverly Hil s. Your salon is gossip heaven. Isn't that what goes on there, Saxon? Everyone talks about everyone else? It's a hotbed of scurrilous rumor!"
"I can't control it."
"That's because you love it."
He brushed against her. She glanced at his jeans in the mirror. They were almost as tightly packed as the Ken Dol 's, and that was saying something.
"I bet you hear some great scandal in the salon," she pressed.
"Let's put it this way, we hear it first." He smiled proudly.
"Was everybody talking about Mickey Stol i when he got himself arrested with the hooker?"
"You could say it was a hot topic of conversation." She laughed. "But I'm more of a topic, huh?" "Not so much you as Martin Swanson. They al love Martin Swanson."
"They love his money," she corrected.
"True. They love his money and they love his power. To be a Hol ywood Wife you have to marry a man with both those things, and apparently Martin has more than anybody." He gave a wicked laugh. "Does he have more than anybody, darling?"
She laughed back. "I never screw and tel !"
Yves, her makeup artist, arrived next, fol owed by two stylists and Ron, dragging the Ken Dol behind him.
The Ken Dol had on his usual skintight jeans and a white fifties T-shirt, al the better to show off his muscles. He flexed for the stylists.
"He's been shooting a beer commercial, doesn't he look divine?" Ron said, establishing ownership up front.
"Divine," Venus Maria said sarcastical y. "You know Saxon, don't you?"
"Do I know Saxon."
"We were just discussing his sex life," Venus Maria said wickedly.
"Real y?" said Ron, al interested. "And how are al those little thirteen-year-old schoolboys, Saxon, dear?"
Saxon shook back his mane of hair and laughed. "You've got it al wrong. That's your territory, Ron."
"Oh, God. There's nothing worse than bantering fags."
Venus Maria giggled.
At noon the great photographer Antonio arrived, accompanied by several hardworking assistants. "Baby!"
Venus greeted.
"Bel issima!" gushed Antonio.
They hugged and kissed.
Antonio was extremely famous, extremely temperamental, and extremely tight-fisted. Fortunately he rarely had to put his hand into his pocket because the magazines who assigned him to photograph the various stars always paid.
Style Wars, for whom this shoot was taking place, didn't pay as much as other publications, but that was because Style Wars was way ahead of the pack. A combination of Vanity Fair and Interview, it was the magazine of the moment--a must for the avant-garde.
Antonio prowled around her house fol owed by his minions, deciding where he would shoot the cover picture. Usual y Venus did not al ow photo sessions at her home, but for Antonio and Style Wars she'd made an exception.
"What do you think, darling?" Antonio asked. "The bedroom? Miss Venus Maria in the center of her bed, naked, with only the black silk sheet to cover her beauty."
Venus Maria almost got off on the idea of nothing except a thin 'silk sheet between her and her voracious public. "Yes,"
she said. "I like it."
"Why not, darling? You are the big star. Glamour is everything."
"What do you think, Ron?" She turned to her closest adviser.
"Sounds good to me," he replied, busily thinking about the surprise birthday party he'd planned for her. She was going to be twenty-six in three days' time, and he'd been planning the party for six weeks. It was going to be a fantastic affair if al went according to plan.
"Imagine," Antonio said, gesturing wildly as he spoke.
"Your body, bel issima, one leg exposed. Your blond hair piled on top of your head. And black silk up to your chin.
Maybe we go wild and one breast escapes."
"No nudity," Venus said firmly. "I've never done it in photographs, and I never wil ."
"For Antonio, you change your mind."
For Antonio she'd do a lot of things, but she'd decided right at the beginning of her career she would never take her clothes off for media consumption. Not that she couldn't if she wanted to. She had beautiful breasts. Not too big. Not too smal . Just perfect.
Perfect Venus Maria breasts. She smiled to herself.
Antonio described to Saxon how he wanted her hair to look.
Saxon understood perfectly. A tumble of wild curls, the hair piled on top of the head, a few tantalizing strands escaping each side.
"You'l look great, Venus," he enthused. "Natural y she look great," Antonio announced. "Antonio--he say so."
While her hair was up in heated rol ers, the makeup artist went to work.
Antonio checked out the clothes the stylists had brought with them, just in case he decided she should wear anything at al . He discarded everything, obviously in love with the black silk sheet idea.
In the middle of it al , Martin cal ed. Her feelings were ambiguous. Since the rush of publicity he'd been particularly cagy about seeing her. They'd spent one night together in the Bel-Air Hotel, and apart from that he'd told her he was too busy with the Orpheus takeover, and that he felt he was being fol owed and had to check with his lawyers because he didn't want to give Deena cause to take him for everything he had. And then he'd returned to New York.
Understandable, but stil it pissed her off. Either Martin committed himself or he didn't: She wasn't going to be the Hol ywood girlfriend any longer.
"I'm in Detroit," he said, assuming she was anxiously awaiting news of his whereabouts.
"Real y," she replied cool y.
"You sound mad."
"I am mad, Martin. I refuse to sit around waiting for you any longer. When you were out here we saw each other once--
it's not enough. Now you've been back in New York for almost a. week and I've heard nothing from you. What's happening with you and Deena?"
"It's no good talking on the phone," he said, sounding very businesslike. "I need to be with you."
"In that case you'l have to make a choice." "I've made a choice."
"You have?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to let me in on it?"
He took a deep breath and announced, "I'm leaving Deena."
She'd been waiting months to hear him say those words, and yet when she heard them she felt a chil . Did she real y want to be with Martin al the time? Was this the relationship of her dreams?
"Wel ?" he demanded impatiently. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"I'm shocked," she managed.
"Why are you shocked?"
"Because I never thought you'd do it."
"I'm doing it for you. I'l launch the Swanson, and then I'm flying out to see you."
"Are you coming here for me or for Orpheus?", He conveniently forgot about his promise to Deena. She'd never find out anyway. "You, Venus. We'l be together and discuss our future."
"Sounds serious."
"I am serious. Very serious."
"Hmm . . . we'l see."
"Who was that?" asked Ron when she returned to her dressing room.
"You're so goddamn nosy. You know perfectly wel who it was. Martin, of course."
"Ah. And is Superstud flying to your side?" "Good guess."
<
br /> Ron's mind started racing. If he could arrange to have Martin at the surprise party, it would real y make her evening.
While she'd been on the phone, Antonio had obviously fal en in love with the Ken Dol .
"We shal put him in the background," Antonio decided, pouting in the Ken Dol 's direction. "You, Venus darling, on the bed. Ken, he lean against the headboard. It wil look marvelous, so . . . how you say? macho. Ken, unbutton the top of your jeans." He clicked his fingers for one of the stylists. "And we tear the T-shirt. Very Marlon Brando, very sixties."
"I think you mean fifties," corrected Ron, eager to score points. "Of course I wasn't born then, but you would know, wouldn't you?"
Antonio ignored Ron.
"Mmm . . ." murmured Saxon. "I sense trouble in paradise."
Venus Maria was primed and painted. Her platinum hair was curled and pinned atop her head, her body was smoothly covered with makeup. Clad in a brief pair of bikini panties and nothing else but her hands to cover her modesty, she arranged herself under the black silk sheets the stylist had draped on her bed.
She knew what Antonio was after. The classic pose. One leg provocatively snaking out, while she sat up, holding the sheet to her chin, her shoulders exposed, a seductive smile. The Venus Maria look. She'd perfected it. Over the years she'd studied careful y.
"Bel issima, darling," cooed Antonio peering through his lens. "And now, Ken, you move a little close."
Slouching against the wal in the background, Ken and Antonio experienced serious eye contact.
Hovering on the sidelines, Ron could see what was going on. Venus Maria observed his mouth, go into a thin, tight line, a sign of deep trouble.
Somebody put Stevie Wonder on the stereo, and the house was flooded with music.
Venus Maria knew how to make love to a camera better than anyone. She licked her lips, somehow making them ful er and more seductive. Her eyes radiated sensuality.
Her expression was pure sex.
She gazed at the camera reveling in every minute.
Chapter 84
Gino arrived in L. A. before Steven and Mary Lou; Lucky took the day off and met him at the airport, taking Bobby with her.
When Gino walked through the terminal she almost didn't recognize him. Where was the Gino strut? Where was that famous Santangelo grin? Where was Gino the Ram?
Oh, God, was it possible that Gino was getting old? Her father, her wonderful, vital father, who'd always been so much younger and stronger than everyone else.
She hugged him. "Hey, what's going on?"
He hugged her back. "I told you, kid. It's final y gettin' to me."
"What?" she asked anxiously.
"Old age, I guess. I'm wearin' out, kid. I'm wearin' out."
She was dismayed to hear Gino talk that way. "You, Gino.
Never!"
"Hey, Grandpa!" yel ed Bobby, clamoring for attention.
"Hey, Bobby!" Gino greeted, hugging his grandson.
Boogie drove them to the beach house while Bobby chatted excitedly about his school in London and what he'd been doing.
"My friend is here, Grandpa," Bobby announced proudly. "I told him he couldn't come to the airport 'cause I had to see my grandpa first."
"That's right," encouraged Gino. "And don't you forget it. I'm gonna teach you a thing or two this trip." Bobby couldn't have been more thril ed. "Yes, Grandpa. What?"
"I'm gonna teach you how to be a Santangelo." "He's not a Santangelo. He's a Stanislopoulos," Lucky pointed out.
"Bul shit," argued Gino. "Bobby don't look like a Stanislopoulos, he looks exactly like a Santangelo." She laughed. "You're right. Bul shit!"
"Thank you."
They grinned at each other.
"So . . . what have you been up to?" she asked. "Aw, nothing," Gino said. "I sit around the apartment, take a walk. Sometimes I put a poker game together."
She hated to see her father inactive. Since he'd sold out the bulk of his companies he didn't seem to be interested in business anymore.
"You know what we should do?" she suggested. "Yeah.
What?"
"Build another hotel. We did it with the Mirage and the Magiriano, but they don't belong to us anymore. Why don't we build a new hotel and cal it the Panther? We'l make it bigger than the Mirage. Better than the Magiriano. What do you say?"
"I wouldn't build another hotel if you paid me," he said, shaking his head.
"Why not? You loved it. You were one of the first in Vegas."
"That was a long, long time ago. It's a different world today."
"It's not so different. We'd do it together. I'd love to build a new hotel."
"Yeah, you're gonna fit it in between doin' studio deals, huh?"
"I've got a lot of energy."
"Don't even talk about it. I'm too old."
Gino admitting he was old: something was wrong somewhere, she thought.
She waited until they were back at the house and Bobby had raced off to play with his friend before mentioning Carlos Bonnatti.
"He came to see you?" Gino asked, concerned. "Did he threaten you in any way?"
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't al ow that asshole to threaten me. I know this is a phony debt, and I'm not paying it."
"You know what, kid? Pay it, get him off your back. We don't need more trouble with the Bonnattis. There's been enough over the years."
She was surprised. "I can't believe this is you talking, Gino.
Pay a debt we don't owe? Let the Bonnattis get the better of us? No way:"
"Life's too short to worry about these things. You got the money--pay him."
She narrowed her black eyes and stared her father down. "I said no way."
Something had to be done about Gino. He was in a slump.
She had to come up with a bril iant way to snap him out of it.
After playing with Bobby for a while, Gino decided to take a nap. Lucky went straight to the phone and cal ed Paige. A maid answered.
"Is Mrs. Wheeler there?" Lucky asked.
"One moment please."
When Paige picked up the phone, Lucky was delighted.
"Hi, this is Lucky Santangelo. How are you?"
"Lucky," exclaimed Paige. "How nice to hear from you.
Congratulations. I'm thril ed about the Panther deal, although Ryder's not so thril ed. He loved doing business with the wonderful Mickey Stol i. But I hear you're planning good things."
"I hope so," Lucky said. "I want to make films that give women a chance to show their strength."
"You wil ," Paige said warmly. "You always manage to do whatever you set your heart on. When your father and I were together, Gino never stopped boasting about you."
Lucky was pleasantly surprised. "Real y?" "Always," Paige assured her.
"Can we meet?" Lucky asked. "I'm not into doing lunch, but maybe if it's convenient for you we could have a drink or something."
"Fine," said Paige. "I'd love to see you. When?" "As soon as possible."
Chapter 85
The South of France was glorious. Hot sunshine, beautiful women, wonderful restaurants, and a carefree atmosphere.
Lennie was miserable. Al he could think about was Lucky.
He sat around the pool at Eden Rock watching Brigette and Nona. The two girls were having a great time. They'd met plenty of friends, and spent most of the day either in the pool or waterskiing. He saw them only for lunch when they joined him and his friends, Jess and Matt Traynor, who'd flown out to keep him company.
Jess, his best friend, counseled him a lot. "You're being very childish about this whole thing, Lennie," she scolded.
"Lucky's not your average woman. You knew that when you married her. You love her. You want to be with her. And now you're playing hurt little boy because she bought a studio without asking your permission. Big deal!"
"She should have told me," he said stubbornly. "Why?"
Jess wrinkled her snub nose. "It was a surprise. For you."
Nobody under
stood. "Not for me, for her. She gets off on being in charge."
"No," Jess argued. "She did it to make you happy because you were always bitching about your contract, the movie, and the people you had to work with. She thought it would be fun. And let's face it--she can certainly afford it."
He tried to explain. "It's like she's buying me, Jess. You understand what I'm saying?"
"What kind of crap is that? You're her husband, for crissakes--give the girl a break!"
"I'm trying."
"How?"
"By staying away."
Jess gave him a look. They knew each other too wel to get away with lying.
"Lucky Santangelo is the best thing that ever happened. To you," she said firmly. "Wake up and realize it before it's too late."
He grimaced. "Hey--you and Matt make it work pretty good.
Howdja do it?"
"When you get married you commit yourself," Jess answered seriously. "I failed once--so did you. When you do it a second time you know exactly what you're getting into. I want to be with Matt because I love him. Don't you love Lucky?"
Yeah. He loved Lucky. He loved her more than anything in the world.
But could he live with her? That was another question.
"There's one thing about you, Lennie," Jess said, sighing with exasperation.
"What?"
"You're pretty damn good at screwing up your life."
"Thanks!"
"Think about what I'm saying. Did Lucky do such a terrible thing? It wasn't like she ran off and slept with the Lakers, for God's sake!"
"She lied to me."
Jess was getting impatient. "She lied to you for you, asshole. Why don't you at least go see her, and maybe the two of you can work it out. I hate to see it end like this.
You're both too stubborn--that's the problem." Later, alone in his hotel room, Lennie thought about what Jess had said.
Yeah. He was stubborn. And so was Lucky. But it didn't mean they couldn't talk.
Jess was right. He loved Lucky. And he wasn't about to give up on their relationship. It was about time he did something about it.
"You're fired," Lucky said.
Eddie twitched. "Why?"
"Because I don't approve of the way you do business."
Eddie couldn't believe he was getting canned by a woman.
"Oh, you've been here five minutes and you don't approve of the way / do business, huh?" he said nastily.
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