"Eddie, I know what's been going on around here."
"Hey, hey, hey, no big deal. I've been offered a job at Orpheus."
"Then I suggest you take it."
"I'm packing up today."
"Oh, and do me a favor."
"What's that?"
"When your drug dealer arrives, the lovely Miss Le Paul, give her a message from me, wil you? Tel her if she ever sets foot on this lot again she's gonna find her ass in jail."
Eddie glared and twitched and left her office.
Later she met with Paige. Paige was such a vibrant woman, ful of life and fun. Lucky could certainly understand why Gino missed her.
Paige ordered a Campari and soda before settling back.
"You look wonderful, Lucky," she said. "Hol ywood agrees with you."
"Thanks. You never change, Paige."
Paige fluffed out her copper-colored hair. "I try to keep it al together. How's little Bobby?"
"Absolutely great."
"And Lennie?"
"The same." She wasn't about to spread the word on their separation. "By the way, guess who's out here?"
"Who?" said Paige, knowing ful wel .
"Gino. He's staying at the beach with me and Bobby."
Paige sipped her Campari. "F16 is?"
"He's getting older, Paige."
"Ah, Gino, he'l never be old," Paige said, smiling warmly.
"Without you he's definitely getting older."
Paige fiddled with a heavy gold bracelet. "It wasn't me that stopped seeing him," she said. "It was the other way around."
"I guess he had to have you to himself. You know Gino."
Paige continued to smile. "He always was greedy." Lucky got right to it. "So, are you leaving Ryder, or what?"
"Is that what you're here to find out?"
"It's a pretty good reason, isn't it?"
Paige attracted the waiter's attention and ordered a second drink. "Did Gino send you?"
"He doesn't know I'm here. He'd kil me if he thought I was interfering."
"Ah, yes, he would indeed."
"So?"
"You Santangelos are so pushy. . . ."
"Think about it, Paige. Wil you do me that favor?" "I'l think about it, Lucky."
"That's al I needed to hear."
Chapter 86
Deena hired the car a couple of days before she needed it.
It was a sedan. A Ford. Dark brown. Ordinary.
The girl behind the rental desk would never remember her.
Deena wore a long black wig, dark glasses, jeans, and a denim jacket. Her own mother would not recognize her.
She produced a phony driver's license with the appropriate picture attached.
"How long wil you need it?" the girl asked, chewing gum and daydreaming about her truck-driver boyfriend.
"A week or so," Deena said, trying to disguise her accent.
She paid cash.
"O. K." The girl behind the desk couldn't have cared less.
"Sign here."
Deena wondered if it was necessary to bother with the disguise any longer. Probably not. But she had every detail of her plan worked out, and there would be no trails leading back to her.
Once the car was hired, she drove to an underground parking lot, col ected a ticket, and left it there. Also parked in the lot was the silver Cadil ac she was using, supplied by the Final Resort.
Getting into the Cadil ac, she drove to Saks, entered the ladies room, removed her wig, dark glasses, and denim jacket, and emerged as Deena Swanson.
After making a few minor purchases, she headed back to the health spa in the Cadil ac.
The Ford could take her anywhere she wished to go. And nobody could ever connect it to her.
Her next step was to use it.
Chapter 87
When Ron so desired he could be incredibly organized.
And his plans for Venus Maria's surprise twenty-sixth birthday party were proceeding ful tilt. The trick was keeping it a surprise. But he'd personal y invited every guest and sworn them to secrecy. And then, to be absolutely sure, he'd sent them a discreet little fol ow-up card, beautiful y printed on Tiffany stationery, with "Be there.
Keep your mouth shut!" engraved on it.
He'd invited three hundred guests--everyone from Cooper Turner and the other Panther stars to Mickey Stol i and his merry band of executives. Of course, he'd invited them before he knew of the upheaval about to take place at Panther.
Now he'd also invited Lucky Santangelo, who said she'd be delighted to attend.
The cake had been ordered--a huge three-tiered affair with Venus Maria's image on the top tier, and fake records hanging from the sides with the names of her hits.
The icing on the cake was to be the presence of Martin Swanson. If he produced Martin for her, it would make her evening.
Ron was throwing the party in the tented back garden of his home. He'd arranged to have exotic flowers, soul food, three different live groups, and a discotheque--al a Venus Maria's favorite things. Included in the guest list would be her dancers, personal staff, friends, and people she didn't know that wel but might like to know better.
Unfortunately he'd made the mistake of inviting Emilio. He'd issued the invitation long before her brother's scummy revelations.
Surely the dumb brother wouldn't have the nerve to turn up?
No. Ron didn't even consider it a possibility.
To make sure everybody would have a good time, he'd also invited twenty beautiful girls and twenty good-looking boys to keep the husbands and wives of Hol ywood happy.
The boys had been rounded up by Ken. He'd invited young actors, friends, and the best-looking male models in town.
"Try to make sure half of them are straight," Ron had instructed.
"You want I should personal y test them?" Ken had replied.
Bitch! Ron had shaken his head in exasperation. "Never mind."
The girls he'd taken care of himself. He'd contacted Madame Loretta, who without a doubt had the most beautiful supply of girls in town. "For once they won't have to put out," he'd told the dear Madame. "Just dance, have a good time, and look utterly gorgeous." There was nothing like beautiful people to make a party go over. with a bang.
And Venus Maria would adore the underlying humor of having the hookers mixing with the wives.
Ron had elected Cooper Turner as his co-conspirator, as far as getting Venus Maria to the party was concerned.
"At least if she thinks she's going out with you she'l look fabulous," Ron had explained. "I wouldn't care to put up with her wrath if she walked in here not looking her best. As it is, I've bought her a divine new Gaultier outfit as a birthday present. She can change when she arrives."
The party was on Monday. Only two days to go. It was difficult keeping the secret. But he'd kept it this long--he could surely manage another two days.
Warner Franklin marched up to the front door of Johnny Romano's Hancock Park mansion and rang the bel .
One of his entourage answered. He didn't recognize Warner as the six-foot black woman Johnny had been frolicking around with recently. Al he saw was a very tal uniformed cop.
"Mr. Romano," she said, al business.
"He's not available," replied the gofer.
Warner could be very stern when the occasion cal ed for it.
"Do I have to come back with a warrant?" she said.
The gofer shifted uncomfortably. "What's it about?"
"That's for Mr. Romano to know. If you value your job you'd better bring him down here."
The gofer hurried off, muttering under his breath. Five minutes later he returned with Johnny. Handsome Johnny.
Sloe-eyed Johnny. Sexy, macho, and son of a bitch Johnny.
To Warner's annoyance, he didn't recognize her.
"Yeah?" he said. He was clad in a terry-cloth robe, with several gold chains nestling for position around his neck.
His long hair curled over his col ar. Two bodyguards hovered in
the background.
She remembered what he was like in bed and she wanted him.
Removing her large black sunglasses she stared at him.
"I've been trying to reach you," she said. "You're impossible to get hold of."
Recognition dawned. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "It's you!
Get an eyeful of the uniform!"
Warner knew there was something about a uniform that turned some men on. That's why she'd kept hers. Obviously Johnny was one of them.
"Why haven't you returned my cal s?" she demanded.
"Honey, who knew you cal ed?" He waved his arms vaguely in the air. "Hey, Chuck--did Warner cal me?"
"Dunno, Johnny, I'l take a peek at your messages." Johnny couldn't help grinning. He admired her bal s, coming to his front door as if it was her right. "I'd ask you in, but I'm like--
uh . . . entertaining," he said.
She wanted to let him know she wasn't just another pass-in-the-night groupie. "When can I see you?" she pressed. "I'm through trying to reach you on the phone."
He thought quickly. There wasn't much going on in his life.
Upstairs he had blond twins rol ing around on -his bed.
They would do for tonight, but after that .. .
"Tel you what, babe. I'm goin' to a big party Monday night.
I'l take you with me. How's that?" "Yes," said Warner.
"You got it," said Johnny, remembering her incredible tits.
Warner was satisfied.
He stretched out his hand and fingered the front of her uniform. "Whaddya say--maybe next time we stay in you'l .
Bring the uniform, huh?"
She nodded. "Maybe."
Johnny was satisfied.
"Gimme your address. I'l have a limo pick you up. Eight o'clock Monday night. Put on something sexy." "For you?"
"Who else, baby? Who else? Doncha know? Johnny Romano--he's the king."
Chapter 88
In his Century City penthouse Carlos Bonnatti began to brood. Lucky Santangelo . . . treating him like shit . . .
making him wait for money that was rightful y his. Fuck her, and fuck her father, Gino. The Santangelos had always thought they were better than everybody else. If it wasn't for that goddamn family .. . He remembered growing up and Enzio complaining about Gino. That lousy son of a bitch.
Thinks he's smarter than everybody else. Doesn't want to get into drugs and hooking. Thinks just 'cause he takes money for loan sharking and skims the casinos clean, he's a good guy. Fuck him. I'm gonna show him a thing or two.
When Enzio was murdered by the Santangelo bitch, Carlos had backed off. He didn't care to get involved in the family grudges. He wanted to run his businesses his own way.
And when Santino vowed revenge, Carlos said to himself, Fuck Santino, he's a moron, and he had distanced himself from his brother. Eventual y Santino had gotten himself kil ed too. But Santino was always a dumb schmuck, more interested in pussy than anything else.
Carlos had his priorities straight. Money came first. Money came before everything. And now the Santan gelo bitch was going head to head with him.
was going head to head with him.
It was time he laid down the rules.
Twenty-four hours, bitch. And if you don't pay . .
Chapter 89
Although the Beverly Hil s Hotel was one of the most luxurious hotels in the world, it was not quite the same as living in one's own mansion. Mickey Stol i soon discovered that.
He'd instal ed himself in a bungalow. But what was the use of having a kitchen when there was nobody to cook your meals?
Room Service and he soon became very close indeed.
On Saturday, Tabitha insisted on visiting him.
"I wanna go out by the pool, Daddy. There's a lot of cute boys by the pool."
"There's no cute boys at the Beverly Hil s Hotel," Mickey said flatly. "Just old producers."
"Like you, Daddy?"
"I'm not a producer."
Tabitha wore baggy shorts and a floppy shirt. Once they got out by the pool she removed both items of clothing, revealing a much too smal bikini for her size. He hadn't realized his daughter was developing so fast. If it wasn't for the glint of steel around her teeth you would never know she was only thirteen. "Put your shirt on," he scolded.
"I wanna sunbathe, Daddy."
"I said cover yourself."
Tabitha made a face and reached for her shirt. "When are you coming home?"
"Who says I'm coming home?"
"Mommy says you are."
"She did, did she?"
"Yes. Mommy says you'l never stick it out on your own."
"Does she want me back?"
"I dunno."
He waved to a few acquaintances as they walked to the restaurant by the pool and sat at an outdoor table. Tabitha decided to order everything on the menu. Mickey made her settle on a club sandwich and chocolate malt, while he ordered Eggs Benedict.
"Can I have my Sweet Sixteen at Orpheus?" Tabitha asked, eyes lustful y fol owing a Mexican busboy.
"Who knows?" Mickey said irritably. "Jesus, what are you asking me now for? Your sixteenth birthday isn't for another three years."
"I'm planning ahead," his daughter announced. "Mommy says we always should. She taught me to do that."
Tabitha stared at the busboy.
He stared back.
This was Beverly Hil s; there was no chance of their ever getting together.
"Did you know that when Grandfather dies he's leaving me a whole lot of money?" Tabitha asked. Mickey perked up.
"Real y?"
"Al the money he got for the studio he's divided between me, Aunt Primrose's kids, and Inga. When Grandfather dies, we get everything. Everything, Daddy. I'm gonna be like real y rich."
"Good. You can keep me in your old age." "You can keep yourself. You're rich."
Not as rich as he'd like to be. "What about your mother?"
he asked curiously.
"I dunno. She gets interest or something until I'm twenty-one, and then I get everything. I'm gonna buy a Porsche, a Corvette, and a red Thunderbird. Whaddya think, Dad?"
Just like her mother--spending it before she had it. Tabitha grabbed a rol and stuffed it into her mouth. "What's Orpheus like? Is it as nice as Panther? What movie stars work there? Tom Cruise? How about Matt Dil on? Can I meet Rob Lowe?"
"I haven't even signed the contract yet," he said irritably.
"Gotta wait til Zeppo gets out. He's making noises."
"What noises?"
Was it his imagination, or did the busboy wink at her?
"Threatening to sue, contract disputes. As soon as it's al sorted out, I'l be there."
Tabitha fidgeted in her seat. "Can I come visit? What movies wil you make?"
"Leave me alone," Mickey said gloomily. "I'm not in the mood."
"You've gotta be nice to me," Tabitha said, chewing on a hangnail. "I'm a deprived child now that my parents are separated." She slurped her milkshake. "Can we go to a movie? Can we go to Westwood? Can we go to Tower Records?"
"Can you shut up?"
Was this what it would be like every Saturday? Mickey had a feeling he was going to dread weekends.
Warner phoned Abigaile. "I did as you suggested," she said excitedly.
"I told you it would work," replied Abigaile. Warner giggled.
"He was real y surprised to see me."
"I'm sure he was."
"He's invited me to a party on Monday."
"How nice."
"You know, Abby," Warner said warmly, "I real y misjudged you. The things Mickey told me. He made me think you were the bitch of Beverly Hil s! God knows, when I was a traffic cop I met enough of them. If only I'd known the truth about you, I would never have had an affair with your husband."
"I understand, dear," said Abigaile soothingly. "After al , Mickey can be very persuasive. Perhaps we'l lunch one day. The Bistro Gardens, wouldn't that be nice?"
"The Bistro Gardens? I'
ve never been there," said Warner.
"What a treat!"
"Good," said Abigaile. "Cal me anytime."
She put down the phone and nodded to herself. Better to be friends with the enemy. It was an advantage. And Abigaile always enjoyed having an advantage.
"We're going to a party," Madame Loretta informed a select group of her special girls.
"For entertaining purposes?" asked Texas, a delicate blond twenty-two-year-old.
"No, you don't have to entertain," replied Madame Loretta.
"This is strictly a pleasure trip." She turned to Leslie. "The perfect opportunity for you, my dear."
"What kind of * opportunity?" Leslie asked listlessly. Since Eddie had left her, she'd had no desire to do anything.
"The perfect opportunity to find you a husband," said Madame Loretta. "The place wil be overflowing with rich, successful men, and Leslie, dear, much as I'd like you to resume working for me, I'd sooner see you settled. You're what I cal the marrying kind." Leslie nodded and wondered how Eddie was managing without her. He'd been so mean to her--and yet she couldn't help thinking about him.
"Monday night," Madame Loretta told the assembled girls.
"Make sure we al look our very best. We're going to the hottest party in town!"
Chapter 90
Being surrounded by her family--Gino and Bobby, Steven and Mary Lou and Carioca Jade--made Lucky feel good, although it wasn't the same as Lennie's being there. Having everyone around only made her miss him more.
She wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was happy.
Things at the studio seemed to be fal ing into place.
Bombshel had already been rewritten and the new script was excel ent. Venus Maria had read it and loved it.
Montana Grey visited the studio and met with both of them.
She was an interesting woman. Tal , smart, and most of al , extremely talented. Lucky had hired her to direct the film.
She'd read two other scripts she liked and put them into development. And she'd also come across a black comedy which would take Susie Rush away from the sweet-little-thing roles she was so tired of playing. Susie was interested but she'd already made a commitment on another project at Orpheus.
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