Lucky

  ‘Ello darlin’,’ he mumbled at last, not sure who she was for a moment.

  ‘How’s married life?’ she demanded sarcastically. ‘Miserable I hope.’

  ‘Cor blimey! It’s you! Tubs!’ he cackled. ‘Put on a pound or two ’ave we?’

  Automatically she pulled her stomach in. ‘Trust you to be rude,’ she spat. ‘You look like the walking dead.’

  ‘Hello, Olympia,’ said the blonde, clinging to Flash’s arm as if he was a lifeboat.

  Olympia favoured her with a cursory nod.

  The brunette, taking care of his other arm, said nothing. She had spotted her reflection in a mirrored wall and was admiring her own sultry beauty.

  ‘Thought you was gonna be ’ere sooner than this,’ remarked Flash cheerily. ‘Thought we was gonna go on yer old man’s fishin’ boat.’

  ‘You missed the boat,’ said Olympia grandly. ‘My husband and I are on it.’

  ‘Yer sound like the bloomin’ Queen!’ cackled Flash.

  ‘Where’s teenage wifey?’ asked Olympia, her bosom straining the silk of a red Givenchy creation.

  ‘Leave it out, babe,’ said Flash easily. ‘I don’t like to be reminded.’

  ‘You have got one, haven’t you?’ she questioned insistently.

  ‘Yeah. An’ now you’ve got an’ old man, so we’re even. Right?’

  ‘Let’s dance, Flash,’ begged the blonde, tripping dainty scarlet fingernails up his leather-clad thigh.

  ‘Not ’ere, luv,’ he replied in a don’t you know Rock Stars do not put on shows in public places unless they are getting paid voice.

  ‘Where then?’ she replied logically.

  ‘Wanna score, Flash?’ asked the Cockney dress manufacturer, overcome with joy at being close to his hero. ‘It’s on the house.’ He tried to elbow Olympia out of the way, but she stood her ground.

  Flash got up. ‘If it’s free, it’s for me. ’Scuse us chicks, we’re gonna see a man about a dog.’ He put his arm expansively around his new friend who almost hyperventilated with excitement, and the two of them repaired to the men’s room.

  ‘Shit!’ said Olympia.

  Across the room Lennie watched it all. And he didn’t care. Why should he? Soon he and Miss Stanislopoulos would be just a memory. The sooner the better.

  Chapter Eighty

  The first thing Lucky did when she arrived back in New York was call Gino. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you, kid,’ he told her. ‘Be at The Pierre by five-thirty.’

  The second thing she did was call her lawyers about the land deal in Atlantic City. It was a go situation, a few signatures and the piece of real estate she had been after was hers.

  She was excited. Now the fun would start. Creating a hotel from the ground up was a challenging, exhausting but ultimately rewarding job. She should know, she had done it once with the Magiriano.

  Ah . . . but the work!

  She was ready. She had been idle too long. To immerse herself fully in the project was just what she needed. It would take her mind off Dimitri and his hardly subtle affair. And stop her thinking about Lennie – who was definitely off limits. Now she was away from the yacht and could look at things clearly, becoming involved with Lennie was sheer madness. He was married to Olympia – reason enough to stay away from him. But he was also more than a one-night stand – she had a feeling he was the man who could make her forget Marco . . .

  And what if he could?

  No thank you. She did not want that kind of involvement ever again. It was just too painful. The best thing she could do was forget Lennie Golden. Which is exactly what she intended.

  Three hours later she arrived at The Pierre. The last time she had visited Gino in his favourite suite at the New York hotel was the night her brother, Dario, was brutally grinned down in the street.

  In the elevator a man in a dark grey suit asked her if she was a model. She gave him a long cool look. Raked him from head to toe. ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you?’

  This confused him. He was fifty-two years old with teenage children. Where did she get off asking him if he was a model? Goddamn nerve. He got out of the elevator on the fourth floor without another word.

  Gino greeted her with a hug and a wink. ‘Just like old times, huh?’ he grinned. ‘Look who I got for you.’

  ‘Uncle Costa!’ she exclaimed in delight. ‘What are you doing here?’

  While they embraced, Costa explained how persuasive Gino could be. ‘A visit to the big city is not such a bad idea,’ he allowed. ‘And how could I resist seeing you?’

  She laughed happily. ‘Uncle Costa, you’re a wonderful surprise.’

  There was more to come. Gino had arranged dinner with old friends in an Italian family restaurant in Queens. Present were Aldo and Barbara Dinunzio – she, a frail little woman, and he, as fat and contented as a lazy cat. Then there were their grown children, and the children’s various spouses; plus a smattering of grandchildren. Altogether sixteen people sat around the table drinking cheap red wine, enjoying delicious pasta which Barbara had personally supervised in the restaurant kitchen (the place was owned by her cousin) and finishing off with Gino’s favourite ice cream.

  Lucky hadn’t seen these people in years, nor had Gino, but the warmth and joy at the table was contagious.

  ‘I can’t wait until you meet my son, Roberto,’ Lucky told Barbara proudly. ‘He’s gorgeous, eighteen months old and totally gorgeous! Just wait until you see him!’

  The old woman, who had known and loved Lucky’s mother many years before, clutched Lucky by the hand and squeezed tightly. ‘Maria should be here today’, she said regretfully. ‘She was a beauty. A gentle sweetheart. We all miss her still.’

  ‘Hey,’ interrupted GinO, as he noticed Lucky’s expression. ‘We’ll talk about the present, not the past. When you get a peek at Roberto, you’ll see a true Santangelo. He looks just like me.’

  Lucky swept away the sad memories and grinned. She liked to hear her father boast about Roberto.

  ‘He’s got my eyes, my hair,’ Gino continued. ‘Right, Lucky? Right, kid?’

  She fingered the panther pin he had given her – she had worn it ever since her birthday, while Dimitri’s diamonds languished in a safe. ‘Yes, Daddy,’ she replied softly. ‘Just like you.’

  * * *

  Later, on the drive back to the hotel, Gino said, ‘You wanna come up for a nightcap, kid?’

  She couldn’t think of anything she’d like better.

  After Costa had retired to his room, they ordered Brandy Alexanders and sat together on the comfortable couch in the living room of Gino’s suite.

  ‘This is nice,’ he said. ‘We gotta get around to doin’ it more often.’

  She nodded her agreement, and tentatively touched his arm. ‘You know earlier, when Barbara was talking about Maria . . . my mother . . .’ She trailed off, her voice filled with emotion.

  Gino picked up the message. ‘We never talked about it, huh, kid?’

  She shook her head and whispered. ‘Never.’

  He got up and walked to the window. Then he turned and stared at her. ‘Your mother was the kindest and most beautiful woman in the world,’ he said gruffly. ‘She loved you an’ me an’ your brother. She loved us all too much. When they laid a hit on Maria they cut out my heart. Y’know what I’m sayin’, kid?’

  This was Gino’s explanation for all the years of running away from his children. Putting them in charge of nannies, and guardians and boarding schools. He had always figured if he didn’t love them too much, he would never lose them.

  Wrong.

  But it was over now.

  She arose from the couch, went to her father and hugged him tightly. ‘Tell me about Mommy. I want to know everything. Please. Make her a part of my life again.’

  Gino needed no further urging. He had bottled up his feelings for years, and the joy of finally talking about Maria and the happy times, was wonderful.

  The hours sped by and it was almost dawn when Luck
y left the hotel. She felt light-headed and very very happy. Since she was five years old her mother had been missing from her life. Now she felt she really knew her. Gino had handed over priceless memories. Maria might be gone, but she was certainly not forgotten.

  * * *

  ‘Welcome home to the City of Angels,’ Jess said formally. She met Lennie at LAX with a limousine and a travel representative who whisked him through customs as if they didn’t exist.

  ‘Nice being a star, huh?’ she asked, as they settled into the back of the limo. ‘Was your trip okay?’

  ‘I think I’m in love,’ he said, reaching for a sweet roll and a glass of orange juice. It was a well-stocked limo.

  ‘Hmmm,’ replied Jess briskly. ‘A usual reaction when returning from one’s honeymoon.’

  ‘Not with Olympia, schmuck.’

  ‘Oh, I see. You’re not in love with your wife, and that makes me a schmuck. So what else is new, Mr Charm?’

  He fumbled for a cigarette and grinned disarmingly. ‘Don’t get mad at me. I need comfort and advice.’

  ‘Not that you’ll take it.’

  ‘How well you know me.’ He reached forward and switched on the built-in TV. ‘You’re never gonna believe me, but I met the one and only lady I think I can spend the rest of my life with.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Jess said dramatically. ‘Eden snuck onto the yacht and whisked you right out from under the Greek Princess’s cute little nose.’

  ‘Eden!’ he laughed derisively. ‘Who’s she?’

  Jess sighed. ‘The love of your life. Remember?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? I’m just about to start a new life.’

  ‘With or without the Greek Princess?’ She paused meaningfully. ‘Remember her? She’s the one you just got married to.’

  ‘Can I get it annulled?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘Did you sleep with her?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘Then unless she wants to say you didn’t, I don’t think you have a chance in hell.’

  He changed channels on the TV and reached for another sweet roll.

  ‘True love does not seem to have diminished your appetite,’ Jess remarked dryly.

  ‘I’m nervous.’

  ‘Of The Tonight Show? I can’t wait to hear your new material. Isaac’s coming over to the apartment later – I thought you might want to run it by us.’

  ‘No new material.’

  ‘Whaaat?’

  He wolfed the roll, oblivious to her consternation. ‘You don’t seem to understand,’ he explained gravely. ‘I want out of my marriage – it’s over – finito – kaput. How you ever let me do it I’ll never know. You must have—’

  ‘Hang on a moment,’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘How I ever let you do it? I went to bed – you were getting laid. I woke up – you were married. I was not exactly around to stop you.’

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I love you, Jess. How’s everything with you? Did you and Matt ever get together? What’s been happenin’ in L.A.?’

  She glared at him. ‘You’re strange, you know that?’

  ‘Secret of my success.’

  They fell into silence. Sometimes Jess thought she knew Lennie better than anyone in the world. At others, she felt she didn’t know him at all. He had asked about Matt. But did he really care? Not at all. It didn’t matter. There was nothing to tell anyway. Matt treated her like a sister – she no longer cast a spell on him. Her last night in Vegas she had spent with an old boyfriend. Boring. Boring.

  At least Lennie looked great, but he was unsettled and restless. Better keep him away from the booze.

  ‘Does the bride know she’s redundant?’ she asked.

  ‘I haven’t told her.’

  ‘Is she going to be pissed?’

  ‘I don’t think she’s gonna light candles and shout hallelujah!’ He paused. ‘But on the other hand I will not be breaking her heart, just bruising her ego. She’s still got a thing for Flash.’

  Jess’s face lit up. ‘You met Flash?’ she asked excitedly.

  ‘Met him, smelled his bad breath, admired his even worse teeth, and got stoned out of my skull just breathing the air around him.’

  ‘Oh boy! You met Flash.’

  ‘I’m telling you – he’s no big deal.’

  ‘Sure he’s not. Like we didn’t get off on his music a hundred times a day when we were at school.’

  ‘You got off on him,’ Lennie pointed out. ‘I just liked the way he played guitar and held a tune.’

  Jess began to giggle.

  Lennie couldn’t help joining in.

  ‘Who’d you fall in love with this time?’ she asked affectionately.

  ‘Lucky Santangelo,’ he replied, suddenly serious.

  She widened her eyes in amazement. ‘Are you kidding me?’

  He grabbed another sweet roll. ‘Never been more serious in my life.’

  Chapter Eighty-One

  With the departures of Gino, Lucky and Lennie, life aboard The Greek underwent certain subtle changes. Susan did not make a move without the Contessa’s approval and consent.

  Dimitri, who considered the renewal of his affair with Francesca had been conducted most discreetly, relaxed his strict code of behaviour, and spent virtually every waking hour with the volatile actress. Most of the sleeping ones too.

  Horace was an embarrassing presence whom they both tried to ignore. Alice consoled him all the way to her cabin, where he had sex for the first time in four years. Francesca didn’t do that sort of thing with him. Horace was just around to organize her life and handle her business affairs.

  Olympia stayed on the yacht for an hour after Lennie left, then she called Flash at his villa.

  ‘Get yer stupid knickers over ’ere,’ he commanded. ‘An’ bring some bread, we’ll ’ave a party.’

  The party lasted three days, and so did Olympia. She wondered how to tell Lennie it was over between them. Perhaps she wouldn’t bother. Let her lawyer do it, she paid him enough.

  Fluff went on a shopping trip, then secretly ran off to Portofino with one of the Italians she had met at Regines. Jenkins hired detectives to find her, and when they did, he sent his bodyguard to bring her back. She returned, a sulky pouting teenager. Shortly after, they left for Texas.

  Brigette tried to drown Roberto in his bath. CeeCee caught her in the act, and spanked her until the child wept.

  Two days later Brigette went to her grandfather and complained that Roberto’s nasty black nanny had touched her ‘down there’.

  Dimitri, too caught up in his passionate affair to bother with matters domestic, instructed Nanny Mabel to deal with the situation. Nanny Mabel, drunk with power at last, spanked Brigette for thirty blissful minutes. ‘And if you run to your grand-daddy and tell him,’ she threatened, ‘I’ll spank you for another half hour.’

  CeeCee thought the punishment excessive, but kept her mouth shut and an eagle eye on Roberto at all times.

  Susan, one long hot afternoon, when everyone except the Contessa was ashore, went to her stateroom and lay naked on her bed. Within minutes the Contessa entered and indulged her as only Paige Wheeler had indulged her before.

  Susan shut her eyes and cherished every minute. The female touch was so . . . delicate. She wondered if she could ever stand Gino near her again.

  Captain and Mrs Pratt saw all, heard all, and pretended nothing was going on.

  The weather in the south of France was delightful. Dimitri Stanislopoulos’ summer cruise was a triumph – as usual.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  It was not easy for Paige to arrange a sudden and unexpected trip to New York, but she managed it. Ryder had never been a possessive husband – thank God – just a man completely caught up in his work. Putting a deal together meant everything else came second. So when Paige told him she had to go to New York to meet with an important furniture designer from Italy, and to view an apartment one of her clients was thinking of purchasing – his onl
y concern was the dinner party they were supposed to be having for Vitos Felicidade. The Spanish singing star was causing problems with the contract he had been offered. He wanted script approval, co-star approval, billing approval. ‘I think he wants to approve the way I take a crap in the morning,’ Ryder announced grimly.

  The movie Bonnatti was financing seemed to be taking more time to put together than a Bishop getting laid. Any producer would be getting edgy. Ryder saw the dinner party as a social occasion to soothe ruffled egos and get the goddamn show on the road.

  ‘Postpone your trip,’ he told Paige.

  ‘I wish I could’, she lied. ‘But don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll make sure every last detail is taken care of.’

  At the office a dozen appointments had to be juggled. Business was stronger than ever. Paige had a distinct style, and right now she was hot. She called a very dear designer friend of hers, Irwin Stroll, and asked if he could possibly take over a Brazilian couple who were on their way into town with nothing but money to spend. Irwin happily agreed to help her out.

  Fortunately her two teenage sons were in Europe, backpacking across France. It would do them both good. Let them find out that life was not all new convertibles and Beverly Hills glitter.

  She left on Wednesday morning, and couldn’t quite understand why the prospect of seeing Gino Santangelo excited her so much. On the plane she sat next to a young actor with a new TV series and one of the best bodies she had ever seen. Once he might have presented a challenge – how long would it take for her to get into his pants! But now it didn’t seem important. All she wanted to do was be with Gino.

  You’re getting old, she scolded herself. And somehow she didn’t mind one bit.

  * * *

  Lucky and Paige hit it off instantly. Gino brought her to dinner and said, ‘Paige is an old friend of Susan’s an’ mine from California.’

  Oh yeh? thought Lucky. I bet. She remembered Gino the womanizer. Susan had put a stop to all that. Now he had that look in his eyes again.