‘New York very expensive place to live,’ Vladimir announced, picking at a hangnail.
‘So move,’ Max said roughly.
‘Not nice attitude,’ Vladimir responded. ‘You and me, we have agreement, yes?’
‘The agreement was, I pay, you vanish. So what the hell are you doing sitting in my office?’
‘Not friendly, Mr Diamond.’
‘Listen to me, Vladimir, tell me what you want and get out.’
‘I want only what I am entitled to,’ Vladimir answered grandly.
Christ! The little shit wasn’t going away any time soon. ‘Entitled, my ass,’ Max snapped.
‘Silence expensive. But you rich man, you afford to buy. Yes?’
Immediately Max realized he’d handled the situation all wrong. Right from the start he should’ve got his lawyer involved, made the Russian prick sign an unbreakable legal agreement. Instead of which he’d been so panicked at the thought of anyone finding out the truth about his non-marriage and obviously illegitimate daughter that he’d paid Vladimir a goodly amount of money in cash. In return he’d expected the Russian to keep silent and vanish.
It seemed this was not to be.
‘How much this time?’ he asked harshly.
‘I am not greedy man—’ Vladimir started to say.
‘Cut the shit,’ Max interrupted. ‘How much?’
‘I need five hundred thousand for business venture I—’
‘Five hundred thousand!’ Max exploded. ‘That’s twice as much as I paid you last time. There’s no way I can—’
‘Problem none,’ Vladimir interrupted, unexpectedly standing. ‘I make discreet inquiries. Tabloid papers, they pay much for good story. Juicy story.’
‘You blackmailing son-of-a-bitch!’
Vladimir shuffled towards the door. ‘I read interview in magazine about you. You say business come first. I say same thing. This just…business.’
Chris called Roth Giagante in Vegas. Roth’s assistant informed him that Mr Giagante never rose before noon. Chris felt enormous relief that he didn’t have to speak to the man. Instead he left a message saying that due to a sickness in his family he had to stay in New York and would be unable to get to Vegas before the following weekend.
After making the call he felt a lot calmer. He’d given himself time to somehow come up with the balance of the money he owed, and maybe on Monday, when he finally met with Red, he’d receive a welcome surprise. He wasn’t thinking he’d inherit a lot, maybe a few million, but right now he’d settle for anything.
After he’d paid his debt to Roth Giagante, there would be no more gambling. He’d worked hard to make a lot of money, so where was the sense in pissing it all away chasing a lucky streak that never seemed to happen? Although Atlantic City was less than an hour away, and while he had time to kill, a whole weekend in fact…
No! he told himself sternly. No more gambling.
After a few more phone calls back and forth to his office in L.A. he met Jett for lunch at his hotel.
As his brother walked into the restaurant, women’s heads turned. Jett had the look, the sexy bad-boy look that women always seemed to go for. Colin Farrell, Owen Wilson, Brad Pitt–Jett was better-looking than any of those guys. And the most endearing quality he possessed was that he didn’t seem to know it.
‘You shoulda been an actor,’ Chris remarked, only half joking. ‘Maybe I should hook you up with a Hollywood agent.’
‘Hey,’ Jett said, pulling up a chair, ‘anything that makes me money.’
‘You broke?’
‘Not exactly, but who doesn’t want big bucks?’
‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ Chris said, studying the menu.
‘My girlfriend drives a Lamborghini, and I didn’t buy it for her,’ Jett said, reaching for a bread roll.
‘You have a steady girlfriend?’
‘Not exactly. We kinda live together in her apartment.’
‘Her apartment?’
‘Gianna’s a big model in Italy. We, uh…have an arrangement.’
‘And that means?’
‘She gets to screw guys who buy her Lamborghinis, and I get to live rent free.’
‘Sounds like a deal.’
‘Yeah. Only that’s not what it’s all about, right?’
‘Whatever works for you, little bro’,’ Chris said, summoning the waiter and ordering a steak.
‘It did,’ Jett said, going for the salmon. ‘Up until last night.’
‘What happened last night?’
‘I met a girl. A very special girl.’
‘Listen to you!’ Chris said, laughing. ‘You’ve been in town all of twenty-four hours.’
‘Yeah, but shit happens, doesn’t it?’
‘To you, yes.’
‘My first night here I got together with this girl, and she’s so freakin’ special I gotta hunch everything changed for me.’
‘A one-night stand and everything changed,’ Chris said, raising a cynical eyebrow. ‘Sure it did.’
‘I’m not kidding, Chris,’ Jett said earnestly.
‘In that case, I have questions.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like, who is she? And does she drive a Lamborghini, ’cause the Lamborghini girl sure sounds like a keeper.’
‘Now you’ll really think I’ve lost it.’
‘Go ahead, I’m a lawyer, I can take it.’
‘Uh…here’s the thing. I don’t even know her name.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I met her in a club, we looked at each other and that was it. She came home with me.’
‘Difficult to nail, huh?’ Chris drawled sarcastically. ‘She must be from L.A.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘Of course it wasn’t. Did you fuck her?’
‘That’s cold, man. It was more like making love. And…here’s the kicker. Turns out she’s a virgin.’
‘You mean was a virgin.’
‘Well…she wanted it as much as me. I even offered to stop, but she—’
‘Spare me the details,’ Chris said drily. ‘One roll with a virgin and you’re in love with a girl who kind of forgot to give you her name. Obviously a class act.’
‘I’m telling you, she’s special, Chris,’ Jett insisted. ‘Besides, I can easily track her down.’
‘Then how come you’re not onto it? Why are you sitting here with me talking about her instead of finding her?’
‘She needs time…’
‘Jesus, little bro’, are you listening to yourself?’ Chris said, shaking his head. ‘High school is over. Stick with the Lamborghini–she sounds more your style.’
‘You don’t get it.’
‘Oh yes, I do. Been there, done that.’
‘Not with this girl.’
‘Hey, if she’s so important to you, you’d better go find her.’
‘I will.’
‘Only do me one big favour.’
‘What?’
‘Do not propose until you’ve recovered your senses.’
‘Like, I’m crazy, but not that crazy,’ Jett said, cracking a grin. ‘I’ll see how it goes.’
‘You might not be drinking, but you’re still a nut,’ Chris said, shaking his head again.
‘And how’s your love life?’ Jett asked, switching the subject because, much as he wanted to continue talking about the girl, he figured he’d said enough, and the annoying thing was that Chris wasn’t taking him seriously.
‘I have two rules,’ Chris replied. ‘Work first. Pleasure second.’
‘That’s harsh, man.’
‘No, little bro’. That’s smart.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘Spill,’ Tina said, linking her arm companionably through Amy’s as they headed down the street on their way to Serendipity.
‘What?’ Amy answered, filled with guilt, yet still strangely elated.
‘Spill,’ Tina repeated. ‘Take pity on this poor pregnant, fat woman and tell me everything.’
‘Me?’ Tina said innocently.
‘Yes, you.’ Amy sighed.
‘Which means you did the deed!’
‘I did not!’
‘Oh, yes, you did,’ Tina exclaimed triumphantly. ‘It’s written all over your face.’
‘Don’t say that.’ Amy groaned, fervently wishing last night had never happened.
‘Why? It’s not a bad thing,’ Tina said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s your last chance and you grabbed it. Therefore, as your best friend and adviser, I’m proud of you.’
‘You are?’ Amy said unsurely, as they entered Serendipity and were ushered to a table upstairs.
‘Yes,’ Tina said firmly, accepting a menu from a friendly waiter, who then took their drinks order. As soon as he left, she leaned across the table, obviously determined to find out everything. ‘Intimate details, please,’ she said. ‘I have to live vicariously now.’
Amy glanced around the half-filled restaurant. ‘I don’t know what you’re carrying on about,’ she said vaguely.
‘Oh, please!’ Tina said, adding in her best persuasive voice, ‘You have to talk about it, otherwise you’ll bottle everything up and that won’t do you any good at all.’
‘You think?’ Amy said, refusing to meet Tina’s penetrating stare.
‘Yes, I think,’ Tina said insistently. ‘Which means you’d better tell me everything.’
Amy began to weaken. Even though it was her big secret, she had this insane urge to talk about him–the stranger, Mr S. Lucas, apartment 10A. His image kept running through her head. His face–so handsome–the lock of blondish hair that fell across his forehead, his mouth, his blue eyes, his hands, his…everything.
‘I–I really don’t understand how it happened,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I guess I must’ve had too much to drink. I…I was thinking about what you said and—’
‘And he was sooo hot that you couldn’t help yourself,’ Tina offered, finishing Amy’s sentence for her. ‘You reached that intoxicating moment of no return and went for it. Would I be on the right path here?’
‘That’s exactly what happened,’ Amy said breathlessly. ‘It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t seem to say no.’
‘And you didn’t want to.’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Was it great?’ Tina asked, eyes gleaming.
‘Huh?’ Amy said, nibbling on a breadstick, although she wasn’t hungry. In fact, the thought of food made her stomach turn.
‘Oh, nice!’ Tina exclaimed, watching her. ‘Stuff your face and leave me hanging.’
‘What?’
‘I repeat,’ Tina said, ‘and I’m speaking very slowly, was it great?’
‘I can’t talk about it anymore. I mean, what if Max finds out?’ Amy muttered, swallowing hard, and almost choking on the breadstick.
‘There’s no way he’ll find out,’ Tina assured her.
‘He might,’ Amy said, thinking of the consequences if he did.
‘Not unless you’re foolish enough to tell him,’ Tina said, handing her a glass of water.
‘I would never do that.’
‘Well,’ Tina said, ‘I hope you used a condom.’
Now panic joined her feelings of guilt. Who the hell was thinking condoms when they were so caught up in the passion of the moment? He certainly wasn’t, and neither was she.
‘Of course,’ she lied, ashamed of her behaviour, and yet, in spite of everything, still suffused with the warm glow that refused to go away.
‘Smart girl,’ Tina said, followed by a loud ‘Ouch!’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘This baby boy has some kick!’ Tina grumbled, clutching her stomach. ‘I’m telling you, this little tyke is destined to be the greatest football-player in the world, or some kind of insane wife-beater!’
Later in the day Max called again. Amy was instantly on guard. Had he found out somehow? It wasn’t like Max to call her more than once a day.
‘I’m taking Lulu for tea at the Peninsula,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to meet us.’
‘Today?’ she said hesitantly.
‘Yes, today.’
‘Well…’ she said, stalling for time, ‘I am working.’
‘For now you’re working. Soon you’ll be giving it all up, so what does it matter if you leave early?’
Was Max under the mistaken impression that as soon as they were married she was quitting her job? No way.
‘Look,’ he continued, ‘I’ve had a lousy day, and I need to be surrounded by the women I love.’
Major guilt trip. He wouldn’t love her so much if he knew what she’d done last night.
‘I…um…I’m supposed to be going over to my mother’s. Big meeting with the wedding planner.’
‘That’s later, isn’t it?’
‘Uh, yes.’
‘Four o’clock. The Peninsula. Oh, and see if you can pick up some of that Hello Kitty stuff for Lulu.’
Just what she needed–Max and his precocious five-year-old. Lulu had a habit of regarding her with baby pursed lips and accusing eyes. Obviously Mariska had taught her daughter exactly how to behave when faced with the enemy–and there was no doubt about it: in Lulu’s mind she was the enemy, the nasty lady who’d stolen daddy away from her mommy.
Staring blankly at her computer screen, Amy thought about googling S. Lucas. What was her mystery man’s first name? Steven? Simon? Was he thinking about her?
Damn! There was absolutely no way she could get him off her mind.
And yet she had to. It was imperative that she stop thinking about him. After all, she would never see him again.
She was marrying Max Diamond, and that was that. Case closed.
Chapter Seventeen
In spite of the fact that his brother was so dismissive of his big new love, Jett still decided to tag along and meet Birdy Marvel. After all, she was famous–so why not?
The pop princess greeted them in her penthouse suite wearing frayed Daisy Dukes, silver roller-blades, and a skimpy T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan KISS MY ASSETS. She was surrounded by her entourage, a colourful group of twenty-somethings who attended to her hair, make-up and outfits, and laughed at her jokes. Baby sycophants, Chris thought, as he introduced her to Jett.
Birdy took one look and liked what she saw. ‘Where you bin hidin’ him?’ she demanded, sucking a purple frozen popsicle.
‘Italy. I live in Milan,’ Jett said, noticing that she had a bad case of acne on her pointed chin, but she was cute, all the same.
‘Cool,’ Birdy said, suggestively licking her popsicle. ‘One of these days I wanna take a trip to Venice. Hear it’s dope.’
‘Jett just stopped by to say hello,’ Chris said. ‘So now that he has, he’s leaving. That’ll give you a chance to tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘He can stay if he wants,’ Birdy offered, casually flopping into a chair and throwing her legs over the side. ‘’S long as he doesn’t report to the tabloids.’
‘Thanks for the offer, but I gotta split,’ Jett said. ‘It was great meeting you.’
‘Likewise,’ Birdy said, suddenly all coy and proper as Jett headed for the door. ‘He’s hot,’ she announced, to his retreating back.
‘Superhot,’ agreed her stylist, a short plump girl dressed from head to toe in red leather, with matching red hair and thick black eyebrows, one of which was pierced with a tiny silver dove.
‘Okay, get lost,’ Birdy said, waving her entourage out of the room. ‘I gotta talk private stuff with my sexy lawyer.’
Obediently they trooped out.
‘Where’s Rocky?’ Chris asked.
‘With his grandma,’ she answered, purple ice dripping onto her fingers.
‘Rocky has a grandma?’ Chris said, raising his eyebrows.
‘She’s eighty an’ still rides a hog,’ Birdy replied, licking her sticky fingers one by one.
‘You’re not into Rocky, are you?’ Birdy said, squinting at Chris through ever so slightly bloodshot blue eyes.
‘As long as you like him, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’
‘Yup.’
‘And you do still like him?’
‘’Course,’ she said, sucking her popsicle down to the stick, then tossing the stick onto the floor.
‘So what is it you want to talk privately about?’
‘Stuff,’ she said vaguely.
‘Go ahead.’
‘I’m pregnant, an’ I wanna marry Rocky,’ she blurted excitedly.
‘Whaaat?’
‘Like, I wanna do it this weekend so, Chris, you’d better arrange it.’
‘Me?’ he said, shocked.
‘You’re my lawyer, you take care of everything.’
‘I’m a lawyer, not a Justice of the Peace.’
‘Whatever,’ she said, waving her hands in the air. ‘I pay you to get things done, so do it.’
Age had not improved Ms Birdy Marvel’s manners, and if he wasn’t getting a fat percentage of her income he would tell her exactly where she could stuff her imperious orders. But right now he could not afford to lose any clients, so he nodded, as if he was considering her options.
‘You’ll need a pre-nuptial,’ he said, taking out his Palm to make some notes. ‘And Rocky’s lawyer will have to check it out before he signs, so we’re definitely not talking this weekend.’
‘Why not?’ she whined.
‘I just told you why not.’
‘Who cares about a stupid pre-nup thingummy?’ she said, getting up and extracting a can of Red Bull from the mini-bar.
‘You do.’
‘Rocky warned me you’d be all pissy about it,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘So we worked something out.’
‘What did you work out?’ Chris asked, keeping his temper in check.
‘Well…since I’m the one with all the loot, we thought it only fair that Rocky gets something if our marriage doesn’t last, which of course it, like, will, ’cause we’re, like, full on in love. So you gotta draw up some kinda paper that pays him a million bucks a year if I don’t stay married to him for five years.’
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