Nathan greeted Victor, proudly showing off the improvements they’d made to the house. Tara served refreshments, after which Lewis went down for his nap and Joey and Nathan escaped to the yard, where Joey was learning to ride his bike without the training wheels.
Tara and Sasha retired to the sunroom with Victor, who was getting a kick out of the dog. She’d taken a shine to him, positioning herself at his feet. From time to time Victor reached down and scratched her behind the ears, talking sweetly to her. Victor was wearing a baggy Hawaiian shirt with shorts and sandals. Tara suspected he’d come from the Stella di Mare, wondered if Louie had it docked in the marina.
The sunroom’s sliding doors opened onto a screened lanai where the turquoise-tiled pool threw watery reflections onto the ceiling. The filter hummed, the bladed ceiling fan clicking above them. A side door led onto a patio, with a view of the tree-shaded yard and the detached garage. On the back drive Joey was attempting to balance his bicycle on two wheels, Nathan supporting him.
Tara observed Victor taking it all in, knowing he was gathering a report for Louie. Wearing a beige cotton sundress, Tara sat in a chintz-covered armchair, watching Victor petting Sasha. He looked at her, eyes crinkling. “Doll, you’re beautiful. You’ve got the life here, beautiful house, beautiful boy—”
She softened. “Lewis is beautiful, isn’t he? He has Louie’s eyes, and he reminds me of him so much … he’s very strong-willed, and he looks at me with those eyes, and I see Louie, and I—I have such feelings for him still. I don’t suppose my affection for Louie will ever go away, but I’ve got Lewis and Joey, and Nathan’s been so kind, and I love him too, but in a different way—”
“Lou was surprised you named the kid after him.”
“It was Nathan’s idea. I objected to it, at first. But he wanted to honor Louie for bringing us together. I agreed, but changed the spelling—we spell Lewis with a w.” Gazing out the window, she saw Joey pedaling upright, Nathan guiding him one-handed. “Nathan’s a really good father. Joey adores him. He … he’s been Joey’s savior, more so than I could have ever been.”
“The boy’s come a long way.” He glanced at the scene on the driveway. “Does he ever see his mother?”
“Nathan takes him. Of course, Joey’s therapist warned against it, but Joey was asking about Natalie, and so Nathan took him. I … I couldn’t bring myself to go. My father visits her, and he speaks of forgiveness, but it’s going to take me a long time—especially now that I’m a mother.”
“It sure looks like Joey hit the jackpot with you and Nathan.”
“He’s made huge improvements. He’s a smart boy, good in school.” She paused, said thoughtfully. “He is still a bit shy with strangers.” Joey had been shy with Victor, ducking behind Nathan when he tried to shake his hand. “He’s more Nathan’s child than mine. He’s been calling Nathan Dad since he came to live with us. He still calls me Aunt Tara, but I don’t push it.”
An end table next to Victor’s chair was stacked with periodicals, Nathan’s Time and Newsweek, the Sunday edition of the Herald, Tara’s Redbook. The lower shelf was crammed with children’s books. Victor picked up the Time magazine, idly flipping through it. Lying on the slate floor at his feet, Sasha shifted and looked up at him. Victor patted her on the head.
Tara said, “It’s so good to see you, Victor. You know I think about you all the time. Tell me, truthfully, how is Louie?”
“He’s flourishing, doll.” He grinned. “You know Lou’s not going to let too much grass grow under his feet. He and Angie patched things up, and they’re getting along fine.” He stroked Sasha’s back. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
Tara laughed. “She’s my third child. I never realized how much dogs are like small children, always demanding attention.”
“She’s a great dog.”
Tara said, “Is Louie staying faithful to Angie?”
“Huh, he’s staying faithful to you, doll. You left a mark on him like nobody ever did. But he’s keeping out of trouble, if that’s what you mean.”
“Would it be all right if I gave him a picture of Lewis? You could give it to him.”
Victor said, “Nathan keeps him updated.”
Tara hadn’t realized Nathan was staying in touch with Louie. Her surprise showed on her face. Victor said, “We had Nathan out to the bayou a couple of weeks ago. Lou had a job for him.”
“I had no idea,” said Tara stiffly. “Nathan never said a word to me.”
“Hey, don’t be sore, doll. Nathan might have wanted to keep it from you. But him and Lou get on. They understand each other. Those two”—he looked at her, head cocked. “They’re a lot alike, you know. Different from the rest of us.”
Tara contemplated this. She had never considered that Louie and Nathan had anything in common beyond her, certainly not in personality. Louie was flamboyant; Nathan, studied and sedate. She was also baffled by Victor’s reference to a job. What kind of job had Louie had for Nathan, and why hadn’t he mentioned it to her?
Joey’s cry interrupted her reverie, and she jumped up in time to see him topple off his bike. Nathan instantly scooped him up and dusted him off. Satisfied Joey was not hurt, Tara shifted her attention to Nathan. Bending over the small blond boy, he was clad in khaki shorts and a ribbed T-shirt, his body rock-hard and thick with muscle.
Mindful of her guest, Tara resumed her chair, crossing her legs at the knee. “I’m sorry, Victor. I just hate to hear my boys cry.”
Petting Sasha, who had roused herself at Joey’s cry, Victor said, “Doll, you’re a good mother. I’ll tell Lou he can rest easy.”
“Louie must have sent you to see me.”
“Lou’s got the Stella docked at the marina. We came down to see Franco; he has a sweet party planned for tonight. You know Morgan made that movie about the Blue Diamond?”
“Of course I know. They filmed half of it at the Walker.”
“Well, the movie’s been out two days, and it’s doing pretty good. They’re having a film debut at Franco’s, with lots of Hollywood types expected.”
“How nice,” she said. But she already knew about Franco’s party, the Walker preparing for the overflow. Tara was a little surprised Morgan had made a movie about the diamond, and she, who was one of a select group who knew what had become of the real Blue Diamond, wondered how Ari’s fake necklace had ended up in Morgan’s movie.
Victor said, “Doll, you know I want to see you every chance I can, but I’d be a liar if I said Lou hadn’t sent me. He wants to keep tabs, make sure everything is okay. He’s a little concerned about these tough jobs Nathan’s been pulling.”
Obviously, Louie knew things Tara did not. She suddenly realized Nathan had been working a lot. But his work cycled between hyper periods of activity and days of leisure. Fortunately, he seemed to be entering one of his downturns. She said, “I guess Nathan talks to Louie more than I thought.”
Victor gazed through the glass at her husband and adopted son. Something flickered in his eyes, and she said, “You’ve never cared for Nathan, have you?”
“Hey, doll, I think Nathan’s super. Look how he’s taking care of you. A stand-up guy—”
“You don’t like him. Why?”
Victor shrugged. “I like him just fine, but he scares me a little.”
“Nathan?”
“Hell, yes.” Victor was still holding the Time, studying the cover with an odd expression. The lead story was about a radical Muslim cleric who’d been gunned down outside a Newark mosque the week before. Tara had been seeing the man’s face on the news for days. On an FBI watch list, the Yemeni cleric should not have been in the country. After the story broke, she’d said as much to Nathan, who agreed with her.
Now she noticed Victor staring at the picture and shaking his head. He tilted his neck, looking pointedly at Nathan, his eye
s narrowing, and then his gaze returned to the cover, the dead man staring up at him. Ninety degrees outside, the ceiling fan whirring, and Tara was suddenly chilled. She said, “Victor, why are you afraid of Nathan?”
Watching the domestic scene on the driveway, Victor said, “I’m a tough guy, doll, you know? I’ve been around the block a few times, but Nathan—well, he’s in a category all by himself. That time we picked up that punk Emilio, Nathan was—” he stopped, as though aware of who he was speaking to, looking suddenly sheepish.
Icy bands squeezed her heart. She said sharply, “Nathan was with you?”
“Hell, I’m sorry, doll. I have a big mouth.”
“I confided in Nathan about Emilio … about that night … and he never, ever indicated to me he was there. And now you’re telling me he was involved—”
“Not just involved, doll. He planned the operation. Nathan’s smart that way, he knew exactly what to do.”
“He is smart,” she said. Too smart. He’d listened, soothed her fears, and never told her he was there.
She looked intently at Victor. He said, “You let it go, doll. I didn’t come here to start trouble.”
“Victor, how can I let it go? He knew I knew that you and Louie … but he never said a word to me. And why would he plan something like that? Why would he be involved?” Sasha stirred, looking to her mistress. Victor got up and opened the side door, and she walked out and onto the grass. He stood by the door, watching. Tara said, “Why did Louie send you to see me? What did you mean when you said Louie was concerned Nathan was pulling tough jobs? What does Louie know?”
Victor’s eyes automatically dropped to the magazine: The dead cleric on the cover. He said, “Don’t get alarmed. Nobody knows anything. I guess I was just wondering if Nathan’s been doing any travelling lately.”
“He went to Atlanta last week.”
Victor’s laugh was forced. “At least it wasn’t Newark, huh, doll?”
That’s when she knew Louie knew. She gestured at the magazine. “You’re not telling me Nathan did this?”
He strolled back, stood looking down at her, big hands balled in his pockets. “Hey, doll, I was just making a joke. Of course he’s not involved; why would he be?”
She stared at Victor, wishing he hadn’t come. She preferred ignorance. The baby monitor began crackling, alerting Tara to the fact that her son was stirring. In a few moments Lewis would be screaming his head off. Outside, on the back drive, Joey took off on his bike. Nathan, fist primed, was giving loud encouragement.
Joey pumped his legs, both hands gripping the handlebars. He wasn’t more than three feet off the ground. Such a small thing, riding a bike, but a milestone for Joey. Even Victor got into the mix, opening the door and giving a loud whistle that made Joey glow with pride. Victor turned to her, contrite. “I have to go, doll.”
“Wait.”
Tara went into the library and took a recent studio picture of Lewis and brought it to Victor. The framed photo showed the toddler posed on a nursery block. He was smiling at the camera, crop of black ringlets crowning his head. “For Louie,” she said.
Victor looked at the picture and then stooped to kiss her on the cheek. She watched him go out the door and cut across the lawn, extend his hand to Nathan. Joey zoomed by on his bike. Upstairs, Lewis began to squall, and Tara turned away from the door and went to get her son.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Louie lay on the rumpled coverlet with his head propped on pillows and watched the actress, Josephine Moore, step into the bedroom. He’d met her last year, when she was filming scenes for The Blue Diamond. She’d been a second tier soap opera star then, an insecure girl inside her grown-up body; now, after rave revues for her performance as Greta Harper in The Blue Diamond, she was hopeful of winning an Academy Award.
They’d had a brief flirtation then, Miss Moore professing to be fascinated by his criminal inclinations. “Marty told me you’re a mobster,” she’d said.
He had laughed. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Marty’s a dick. I know I should be eternally grateful to him for picking me to play Greta, but he is so full of himself, he’s hard to work for. He makes everybody wait. Everybody. And then you show up, a nobody, and he’s shaking in his shoes. He tells me to stay away from you, that you’re dangerous. A real live mobster.”
Louie had taken her to dinner; afterwards, they’d gone their separate ways. Now, with The Blue Diamond proving to be a box-office smash, Josephine was back in Miami for a succession of star-studded events. Tonight, at Franco’s, another such party was being held, this one in the upper level lounge. Morgan and his snobby wife were hosting it, and they’d sent out embossed invitations to the local glitterati. Louie had not received an invitation, but he didn’t need one. He’d already told Franco to reserve the small VIP room for his group. Morgan might balk at this, but he wouldn’t say a word to Louie.
Josephine was staying in Louie’s Venezia condo. After Tara moved out, he had Stella redecorate the bedroom. While keeping the Italian theme, Stella had incorporated a more Mediterranean feel, adding cool linens with underlying shades of blue.
Louie had not slept in this bed since breaking off with Tara, although he’d had sex with Josephine an hour ago: Banishing Tara’s ghost. But in the drowsy aftermath of sex, with the sea breeze seeping in from the terrace, he thought of her with a mixture of longing and regret, the memory of the passions they’d shared uppermost in his mind.
Sex with Josephine was pleasant and uncomplicated, the way Louie preferred it. He wouldn’t lose his head with Josephine, although another man might, for she certainly was beautiful, all of twenty-eight, with sparkling blue eyes and golden-blond hair. She had a perfect Barbie doll figure, barely covering it with a blue gossamer gown the exact same shade as her eyes.
Josephine was dressing for the party. It was early evening, a full moon rising over the city, sky clear and cloudless, the air balmy, despite the fact that it was autumn. It was time for Louie to don his dinner jacket, but he prolonged his leisure, watching Josephine putting on her make-up. She had suitcases and clothes piled all around the room, rummaging through them until she located a pair of rhinestone-studded heels.
Louie heard Victor moving about on the terrace, whistling softly to himself. Victor would be attending the party, along with Anthony, who had been staying on the Stella. At the last minute Louie invited Kaiser, whom he was finding useful. He hadn’t actually employed Kaiser, turning him over to Nathan, who was giving him contract work related to his business. Nathan liked Kaiser, which was rare, seeming to trust him, and they were discussing a partnership. Kaiser had assumed Nathan’s lease at the Venezia. He’d popped in earlier, impressed to find Josephine Moore lounging about in her bikini. Louie had told him to be ready at seven o’clock sharp—it was almost that time now.
With a groan he sat up, putting his feet on the floor. He was wearing shorts and a sleeveless undershirt. Josephine was bending over to put on her shoes. She looked up and caught his eye. “You’re pretty good, for an old guy.”
“You’re pretty damn good yourself, baby. Where’d you learn to give a blowjob like that?”
She laughed. “I had to suck a lot of dick to get ahead in this business.”
“Jesus. I hope not Marty’s.”
“Are you kidding; never.” She gave him a saucy look. “My agent’s going to be at the party tonight. He’s a gay guy—Ralph. Don’t let on that we’ve slept together—he only wants me to fuck men who can advance my career. Wait till he gets a look at you—he just adores Italian men. I’m going to tell him you’re the real thing, an authentic gangster. That’ll keep him from making a pass at you.”
“Fags don’t make passes at me.”
“Don’t say ‘fag’. It’s not politically correct. It’s demeaning.”
Louie laughed. “
I have to tell Victor that one. What am I supposed to say, fairy?”
“The correct term is gay. Anyway, Ralph is going to flip when he sees you. I read all that stuff about you on-line; they should make a movie about your life. But who could play you? Dinero, in his younger days. Not Pacino, you’re better looking than him.”
Louie said, “You could play my wife, that way we could have sex on the set.”
“Ooh, I forgot. You are married. I’d rather play your girlfriend. Listen, does it ever bother you to cheat? I mean, Marty said—”
“Forget Marty. He doesn’t know anything about me. If he did, he’d tell you I haven’t been with anyone in a long, long time.”
Louie showered, shaved, and dressed, and Josephine was still not ready. He went into the living room where Victor, Anthony, and Kaiser were waiting with their dates. Like him, the men were in evening jackets, all of them nursing glasses of booze. Victor’s date was blond and big-busted, with roses tattooed on her breasts. She wore a black gown. The other girls were about thirty, nice girls, reminding him of Tara. Anthony had met the brunette at Franco’s last night, bringing her back to the Stella di Mare. Louie had been introduced at breakfast, but he’d forgotten her name, remembering only that she was from St. Louis. She was a beautiful girl, with long brown hair and a knockout body. Her girlfriend was a strawberry blond with a heart-shaped face and blue eyes that gazed about in wonder. Since she and Kaiser were both dateless, they were being thrown together.
The girls wore flimsy little cocktail dresses; they worried about not being dressed appropriately. They were not used to money or fame, awed into silence when Josephine finally appeared. She looked stunning in her blue strapless gown, her face carefully made up. She was carrying a velvet jewel case. She walked to where Louie was sitting on a swivel-stool at the island and opened the case, revealing the Blue Diamond necklace she’d worn in the movie, the very necklace Louie had commissioned from Ari.
With the exception of Kaiser, the men had been participants in the great scam involving the necklace, all profiting enormously from it. None of them were surprised to see it, although the ladies erupted in gasps. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Josephine said, lifting her hair off the nape of her neck so Louie could fasten the clasp.
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