Mary Lou was a glowingly pretty curvaceous black woman of thirty-one, with huge brown eyes, shoulder-length black curls and a totally captivating smile.
The day she’d met Steven had been traumatic, to say the least. She’d been eighteen at the time, a TV star and full of her own importance. It had not been love at first sight. She’d walked into his office at the prestigious New York law firm of Myerson, Laker and Brandon, accompanied by her mother, her manager aunt, and her edgy white boyfriend. Some entourage.
But Steven had been pleasant and reassuring, managing to persuade everyone else to wait outside while she told him her story. And what a sorry story it was. Rashly she’d allowed her then boyfriend to take nude pictures of her when she was fifteen – nothing hard-core, simply some fun stuff they’d gotten into together while fooling around. Recently, cashing in on her TV fame in a family sitcom, the old boyfriend had sold the offending photos to a skin magazine, they’d been published, and now Mary Lou was determined to sue.
Steven warned her that suing a magazine was not easy: there would be depositions, endless questions and all the pressures of negative publicity. ‘I can handle it,’ she’d said, full of the confidence of youth. ‘I want to see those scummy rats pay for what they’ve done to me.’
‘Okay,’ Steven had said. ‘If that’s what you want, we’ll go for it.’
Finally, almost three years later, they’d gone to court. Her appearance went well. She was poised and articulate and the jury fell in love with her – especially when she smiled. They loved her so much that on the final day they awarded her sixteen million dollars in damages.
Mary Lou was elated and triumphant. So was Steven. They went out to dinner to celebrate, and before long the innocent celebration turned into something more.
One thing about Mary Lou – when she wanted something, she was determined. And apart from suing the magazine, she had her big brown eyes firmly fixed on Steven – even though he was over twenty years her senior.
Later that night they ended up in bed. It was warm and exciting and it made Steven feel guilty as hell. She was too young. He was too old. As far as he was concerned it was a no-win situation.
‘This relationship is not going to work,’ he told her sternly.
‘Sure,’ she answered cheerfully. ‘I have a great idea. Let’s make it not work together.’
All she had to do was smile and he was lost. A week later she moved into his house.
Mary Lou gave him the personal happiness he’d been lacking for so long. His life had fallen apart for a while when his mother, Carrie, had revealed that she wasn’t sure who his father was. Mary Lou helped him to get his head straight, and to stop obsessing about his past and concentrate on his work as a lawyer.
Then came the second magazine incident. The publisher of the magazine Mary Lou had sued published a ten-page spread of extremely explicit photos, claiming they were of Mary Lou. They weren’t. They were clever fakes with her face superimposed on a porno star’s body. Unfortunately, the magazine hit the stands before anyone could stop it.
When Mary Lou saw the magazine, she was so distraught that she attempted suicide. Fortunately Steven managed to rush her to the hospital in time.
Mary Lou was released a week later and Steven knew for sure that he couldn’t live without her. They were married shortly after.
Marriage saved both of them. For Steven it was finding someone who cared about him above all else. And for Mary Lou it was the security and love she’d always craved.
Within a few months she was pregnant, eventually giving birth to a beautiful baby girl they named Carioca Jade. Carioca was now eight. Looks-wise she was the image of her mother. Smarts-wise she wanted to be a lawyer, exactly like Daddy.
Mary Lou was a sensational mother. In spite of a successful career she always managed to put Steven and Carioca first, making them feel like the two most important human beings on the planet.
It had been Steven’s idea to move to LA when they’d returned to the States after a two-year stay in England, where he’d studied English law, played golf and generally done nothing except enjoy spending time with his wife and daughter. ‘Settling in LA will make it easier for you to get back into the business,’ he’d told Mary Lou. Besides, he didn’t want to live in New York again, and he had the urge to spend some time with his half-sister, Lucky, and his father, Gino. It had taken him a lifetime to find out that he had a family, and when he did it was a strange, overwhelming feeling. Lucky had accepted him immediately, but it had taken Gino a while to fully realize he had fathered a black son, the result of a long-ago one-night affair with Carrie, Steven’s mother.
When Steven told his friend and partner, Jerry Myerson, that he wanted to settle in LA, Jerry had been understanding as usual. He’d suggested that they open a West Coast branch of Myerson, Laker and Brandon. Steven liked the idea, so did Mary Lou.
Fortunately Steven had been proven right: re-locating to LA was great for Mary Lou’s career. She started getting the movie roles she’d been missing out on while living in Europe. And after taking on two junior partners, Steven’s new law firm took off. It was an excellent move for both of them.
‘They’re ready for you on the set, Miz Berkeley,’ said a second assistant director knocking on the open door of her trailer.
‘Oh, right,’ Mary Lou said, jumping back to the present. ‘I’m on my way.’
Chapter Five
Zipping along the Pacific Coast Highway in her red Ferrari, vintage Marvin Gaye blasting on her CD player, Lucky felt pretty good about everything. All she hoped was that she was making the right decision. Gino seemed to think she was.
‘You gotta do what you feel in your gut,’ he’d told her. ‘So if you feel it, do it!’
Well, she’d find out soon enough when she got everyone’s reaction to her announcement – especially Lennie’s.
It was too late now, but it occurred to her that maybe she should have told him first. The problem was that Lennie had a way of analysing things, and she didn’t want him analysing her decision, she simply wanted to do it.
At the beach-house everyone was assembled in the big, comfortable kitchen overlooking the ocean. There were little Gino and Maria with their cheerful black nanny, CeeCee, and Bobby – who was so damn good-looking, a taller version of his grandfather, Gino.
‘Hi, Mom,’ Bobby said. ‘Wait’ll you see my Armani tux. You’re gonna freak.’
‘I’m sure,’ Lucky said drily. ‘Who told you you could go to Armani?’
‘Grandad,’ Bobby said, chewing on a carrot stick.
‘Gino spoils you,’ Lucky said.
‘Yeah,’ Bobby said, laughing. ‘And don’t I love it!’
Lucky had agreed that Bobby could come to the event tonight. However, she did not want little Gino and Maria coming too, they were too young. She had no intention of raising them as Hollywood kids: she’d seen enough of those brats with no manners and a Porsche at sixteen.
CeeCee, who’d been with the family since Bobby was born, was busy serving the younger children rice and beans.
‘Mmm . . .’ Lucky said, hovering over the table. ‘That looks yummy.’
‘Where’s Daddy?’ Maria asked. ‘He promised we could jog along the beach.’ Maria was a pretty child, with enormous green eyes and wispy blonde hair. She looked a lot like Lennie, while little Gino favoured Lucky in the looks department.
‘Daddy’s working,’ Lucky explained. ‘He’ll jog with you this weekend. How’s that?’
‘I’m going to my friend’s this weekend,’ Maria announced. ‘She’s having a big, big birthday party.’
‘You’re deserting us for a whole weekend?’ Lucky said, pulling a sad face.
‘You told me I could go, Mama,’ Maria said seriously. ‘You promised.’
Lucky smiled. ‘I know,’ she said, remembering how she had been at eight. She’d had no mother to watch over her, only the gloomy walls of the Bel Air house, with Gino keeping guard. ‘I’m going upstairs
to get ready for tonight,’ she said, ‘and when I come down, I want to see all this food eaten up. And I want to see pyjamas on bodies, and two small people ready to give me big hugs and kisses.’
Little Gino giggled. She bent over and gave him a hug before hurrying upstairs to her bedroom, where Ned, her hairstylist, was waiting patiently. She usually fixed her hair herself, but since tonight was such an important event, she’d decided that she’d better make a special effort.
Ned appeared quite agitated.
‘What’s up?’ Lucky asked.
‘You make me nervous,’ he complained. ‘You’re always in such a rush.’
‘Especially today,’ she said, causing him to become even more agitated. ‘I’ve got to be dressed, made up and in the limo by five thirty.’
‘Okay, into the chair,’ Ned said, clapping his hands together. ‘How are we doing your hair?’
‘Up. Something sophisticated.’
‘You mean something that’s completely not you?’
‘Ha ha!’ Lucky said. ‘I can look like a grown-up for once, can’t I?’
‘Of course,’ Ned said. ‘Only do not nag. Nagging gives me heart palpitations.’
‘You’ve got twenty minutes,’ she said, glancing at her watch. ‘I can’t sit still for longer than that.’
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘Give me a movie star any day. At least they’ll stare at themselves in the mirror for hours and not utter a word.’
Ned fixed her hair in record time. She thanked him, paid him and hustled him out. As soon as he was gone, she raced into the shower, making sure to angle her head back so that she didn’t ruin Ned’s do. Then she quickly towelled herself dry and sprayed herself all over with Lennie’s favourite scent. Next she applied her makeup, and slid into a long slinky red Valentino, with spaghetti straps, plunging neckline, and a slit to the top of her thigh. The dress was very revealing; fortunately she was slender enough to carry it off.
She stared at herself in the mirror. I look like a real grown-up now, she thought with a smile.
Lucky Santangelo. Little Lucky Saint, as they’d called her at school so that her real identity was never revealed, and it would not be known that she was connected to the notorious Gino Santangelo – the Las Vegas hotel tycoon with the somewhat shady past.
Gino. Daddy. What memories they shared. Nobody could ever break the bond between them. Not one single person.
She remembered how at nineteen she had pleaded with him to let her take over the family business. But no, Gino had never entertained the idea, until finally she’d proved to him that there was no stopping her.
‘Girls gotta get married and have babies.’ That’s what he used to say to her.
‘Not this girl,’ she’d replied, full of steely determination. ‘I’m a Santangelo – just like you. I can do anything.’ And in the end she’d won.
She opened her safe, removing the diamond hoop earrings Lennie had given her on her fortieth birthday. Then she added a wide diamond and emerald bracelet, a present from Gino, and she was ready to go. It was exactly five twenty.
Downstairs Bobby was showing off his new tux to his siblings.
‘Why can’t we come, too?’ Maria complained, adorable in Snoopy pyjamas.
‘Because this is not a children’s event,’ Lucky explained. ‘It’s strictly for adults.’
‘Then why’s Bobby going?’ little Gino asked.
‘Because he’s taller than all of us,’ Lucky said, thinking this was rather a good answer. ‘Is the limo here?’ she asked Bobby.
‘Yeah, Mom, it just arrived.’
‘Then let’s go,’ she said, kissing Maria and little Gino.
* * *
‘Honey,’ Steven said, frantically rummaging through his top drawer, the phone balanced precariously against his ear, ‘I can’t find my bow-tie.’
‘Steven,’ Mary Lou said, ‘how can you call me when I’m on the set? You just blew a take.’ She was speaking into her cellphone, trying to edge away from her co-star, who could not believe she’d left her phone on while they were in the middle of a scene.
‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ Steven said, ‘but this is an emergency. Lucky’s gonna be here any moment.’
‘Your tie is on your dresser where I put it this morning. I told you where it was before I left.’
‘Oh, yeah, right,’ he said, suddenly remembering.
‘You drive me crazy, Steven,’ she said crossly.
‘Good crazy?’
A quiet giggle. ‘Well, of course good crazy.’
He put on his real low-down sexy-soul-singer voice. ‘Later tonight, I’ll really getcha outta your mind.’
‘Oooh, baby, baby . . .’
Now they both giggled, secure in the knowledge that they were still crazy about each other, and that the sex got better as each year of marriage passed.
‘Mary Lou,’ Lennie yelled from behind the camera, ‘we’d like to get out of here sometime this year. Is that okay with you?’
‘Sorry, Lennie,’ she said guiltily. And then into the phone. ‘See you soon, lover. There’s somethin’ special I have to tell you.’
‘What?’ he asked, hoping she hadn’t signed for another movie without telling him, because in his mind they both needed a nice long vacation.
‘You’ll see,’ she said provocatively, and clicked off her phone.
‘Can we get back to work now?’ Lennie enquired.
‘You got it,’ Mary Lou said, smiled her captivating smile, and nobody could stay mad at her.
Chapter Six
Cruising around getting shit-faced was not exactly what the boy had imagined they’d do. He’d kind of pictured sex in the back of his jeep, or at least a blow-job. But no: the girl – who was extremely bossy – had her own agenda.
She’d always pushed him around, ever since they were kids. It was do this, do that, and usually, because he was in awe of her, and she was two years older than he was, he obliged.
But he resented her big time.
He also lusted after her with a permanent hard-on.
He was sure that if he could have sex with her, just once, it would break the hold she had over him. Meanwhile, she kept on telling him what to do.
They drove to a supermarket, where she purchased a couple of six-packs of beer. She looked much older than her eighteen years and, besides, she knew the checkout clerk, so the dude didn’t bother carding her; he was too busy staring at her tits.
In the parking lot she opened two cans of beer and thrust one at him. ‘Last one to finish is a pussy,’ she said, immediately lifting the can to her lips.
He was up to the challenge, conveniently forgetting his dad’s words when he’d handed him the keys to the jeep: ‘Now you gotta promise me, son – you will never drink and drive.’
‘Yeah, Dad,’ he’d said. ‘You got my word on that.’
The beer was ice cold and tasted good. Not only that, but he beat her to emptying the can, a minor triumph.
‘Not bad,’ she said grudgingly.
‘Where we goin’ now?’ he asked.
‘Dunno,’ she said.
‘How about a movie?’
‘Waste of time,’ she said disdainfully, fiddling with one of several stud earrings attached to her left ear. ‘Movies are for morons who got nothin’ better t’ do.’ She knew he was crazy about her, and used it. ‘Let’s go steal something,’ she suggested, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
‘Why’d we wanna do that?’ he asked, pulling on his ear – a habit he had when he was nervous.
‘Kind of an initiation,’ she answered casually. ‘If you wanna stay tight with me, you gotta do stuff that’ll make me believe you’re committed to our friendship.’
‘Committed?’ he said, wondering if committed meant an eventual blow-job.
‘It’s easy. All we gotta do is go by the CD store an’ see how many you can score.’
‘Why don’t I pay?’ he said logically. ‘My dad picks up my credit-card bill.’
‘What’s the matter?’ she jeered mockingly. ‘Daddy’s precious little boy don’t wanna mess with trouble?’
‘That’s crap.’
‘What did Daddy do?’ she continued, in her mocking tone. ‘Keep you locked in the house in New York? I would’ve thought living in the city would’ve given you balls.’
‘I got balls,’ he said, suddenly angry.
‘Naw . . . you’re a daddy’s boy.’
‘No way.’ And as if to prove her wrong, he opened another can of beer and took a few hearty gulps.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Mr Macho, huh?’
‘You don’t know anything about me really,’ he said.
‘I know everything about you,’ she answered quickly. ‘Bet you’ve never had sex.’
The fact that she knew he was still a virgin threw him. ‘That’s crap,’ he said, quickly denying it.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I like a guy who can get it up an’ keep it that way.’
He swigged more beer. Did that mean that later she’d allow him to prove it?
The first can of beer had made him more relaxed; the second one was helping with the job. ‘Okay, let’s do it,’ he said, swallowing a burp. ‘Bet I can score more CDs than you.’
‘That’s what I like to hear,’ she said, pleased. ‘Want me to drive?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m cool.’
And they set off.
Chapter Seven
Things were moving slower than Lennie had anticipated, and on top of everything else they would soon be losing light. He’d promised he would get to Lucky’s event as soon as he could, but the way it was going, he and Mary Lou would definitely be late arrivals.
No good obsessing. Two more set-ups, and they could finally wrap this particular location. Especially as everyone was co-operating by working as fast as possible.
The good news was that Mary Lou was a pleasure to work with. Some actresses were divas, bitching and complaining about every little thing. Not Mary Lou. She had it down. She was pretty and talented, but above all she was nice, and the entire crew adored her.
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