Which life did she prefer? There was no choice—she’d choose being Vincent’s mom anyday. If it wasn’t for the money, she’d give up all the glamour in a second.
Earlier that night, between shows, a man had appeared in the dressing room she shared with Penelope, and handed her his card. He was a representative of Playpen—a glossy magazine for men.
“I’ve heard plenty about you,” he’d said. “And we’d love to photograph you for the magazine.”
“I’m not interested.”
“You should be. We pay a lot of money, and only deal with the top photographers. You show it onstage, why not show it in our magazine?”
She’d taken his card and said she’d think about it. Her standard answer.
Perhaps that was why Penelope was in such a bad mood—because he had not approached her.
Eric was fussing around, trying to fix Penelope’s train. “For God’s sake!” Penelope kept on complaining. “You’re as clumsy as a hog!”
Their intro music started, and Eric thankfully backed away. “Heads up, tits out, have a good show,” he said.
“Not if you have anything to do with it,” Penelope sniped, grabbing a handful of ice to liven up her nipples.
And so they made their entrance to the strains of “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.”
Michael and Dani—1974
Michael ordered a bottle of champagne. He had every intention of making this trip special for Tina and Max, since they’d done so much for him. Earlier he’d slipped the bell captain at the Estradido a hundred bucks to get them tickets for Elvis the following night. “Do it, an’ there’s more where that came from,” he’d promised.
A female photographer stopped by their table.
“Yes, please!” Tina exclaimed, posing between her two men, big smile firmly in place.
After an excellent dinner of steak, lobster, and chocolate soufflé, the show started. First a line of gorgeous dancing girls. Then an extremely clever magic act, followed by a group of astounding Chinese acrobats, who made the audience gasp in amazement.
Michael’s eyes scanned the chorus line—just in case. Max was practically frothing at the mouth, while Tina was guzzling champagne like it was going out of style.
And then came the showgirls, parading to the strains of “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.” Six tall, statuesque, topless beauties, clad in satin and lace, with flowing marabou-trimmed chiffon trains and faux-diamond tiaras. In high heels they were all six feet tall, moving with stately grace as they glided down the magnificent double staircase and struck a pose.
Max let out a low appreciative whistle. Tina elbowed him in the ribs.
Michael was transfixed. The girl on the left was Dani. The girl from his past. The one-night stand he’d never forgotten. She was a little older, probably a whole lot wiser, and breathtakingly radiant.
For the first time since Beth’s murder he felt something—an attraction that was undeniable. It must be almost ten years since they were together—she’d probably forgotten all about him, or wouldn’t speak to him. Maybe she was engaged. Or married.
He had to find out.
As soon as the show was over, he was on his feet.
“What’s your rush?” Tina asked. “Let’s finish the champagne. We can’t waste it.”
“Gotta go see an old friend,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the casino.”
“What old friend?” Max wanted to know.
“Where in the casino?” Tina asked.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you.”
“Michael—”
He didn’t hear her. He was already on his way backstage.
A strange thing happened to Dani while she was onstage. She thought she saw Michael Castellino.
Standing in position, attempting to stay as still as possible, she checked out the audience, and tonight there was a man at one of the front tables who looked remarkably like him. She couldn’t see that well, what with the stage lights and all, but still . . .
No. It couldn’t be. Too much time had passed, and she didn’t want him coming back into her life, finding out about Vincent and trying to stake a claim.
She looked away, hoping that would make him vanish. But when she glanced back a few minutes later, he was still there.
Only it wasn’t him. The bright lights were playing tricks with her vision. She paraded around the stage, head held high—moving like a queen.
When she got off the stage and returned to the dressing room, she was furious to find Joey, Penelope’s boyfriend, lounging on the couch. She’d informed Penelope on countless occasions that she didn’t want him in there. Being topless onstage was one thing, but returning to her dressing room and having Joey ogling her at close quarters was unacceptable.
“Like he’d want to look at you when he’s got me,” Penelope had argued. “Get a fuckin’ life!”
Dani realized she would have to take it up with the company manager. Enough was enough.
“How ya doin’, doll?” Joey said, jumping up and leering at her. He was all greasy black hair and pointed white teeth.
“Not so good,” she answered crisply. “Do you mind waiting outside while I change?”
“You don’t got nothin’ I ain’t seen a thousand times,” Joey said, eyes fixed on her nipples.
“I’d appreciate some privacy.”
“Don’t be like that, doll,” he said, edging closer. “Where’s my Penny?”
“On her way, so take your dirty little eyes off me,” she said, grabbing a towel to cover herself.
“Jeez! It wasn’t like I was gonna touch ’em,” he said indignantly.
“Out!” she yelled, suddenly losing it.
He slouched to the door and stepped into the hall. She quickly slammed and locked the door behind him.
Soon Penelope was hammering and shouting outside the locked door.
Dani took her time removing her heavy stage makeup and changing into her street clothes. When she was finally ready, she unlocked the door and a furious Penelope burst in.
“What the fuck—,” Penelope began, quivering with fury.
Ignoring her, Dani headed for the stage door.
“Bitch!” Penelope yelled after her.
Dani grabbed Eric on her way out. “Either she goes into another dressing room or I do,” she said. “Call me when it’s done or I’m not coming back.”
It felt good asserting herself, and why not? She had a fan club and magazines chasing her to take her photo. It was about time she started enjoying her success.
She walked outside.
Standing there, smoking a cigarette, was Michael Castellino.
“Where did Michael go?” Tina asked as they trooped out of the Krystle Room along with the rest of the audience.
“Dunno,” Max replied, more interested in hitting the blackjack tables than anything else.
“Should we wait here?”
“No, Tina. He said he’ll find us.”
“So what shall we do?”
“Dunno what you’re doin’, but I’m hittin’ the tables.”
“Then I’ll play the slots.”
“Have fun.”
“Don’t lose your money.”
“I never lose.”
And happily they went their separate ways.
She didn’t back away. She didn’t run, although she wanted to.
Michael Castellino was standing there as casual as if they’d seen each other the day before.
“Hey,” he said, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Remember me?”
Remember him. She’d never gotten him out of her mind. And now—almost ten years later—he was back.
“I’m sorry—” she said, faking it.
“Michael,” he said, stepping closer. “Michael Castelli.”
“Castellino,” she corrected. And she could have kicked herself for coming out with his name.
“So you do remember,” he said. “That’s nice. Oh, and by the way—changed m
y name to Castelli.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping her tone cool and impersonal.
“Right now I’m wondering if I can buy you a drink.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so,” he said, giving her a quizzical look. “Hey—that’s better than a flat no. At least I got a fifty-fifty chance.”
They stood there. Two strangers who’d conceived a child together. And yet he didn’t know. He had no idea he was the father of an amazing nine-year-old boy.
Don’t just stand here, get moving, her inner voice urged.
She couldn’t move. Her legs wouldn’t allow her to.
“I guess this is kinda awkward,” he said. “We spent one great night together, then you never heard from me.”
“That about sums it up,” she said coolly.
“Believe me,” he continued, “there were circumstances, things that prevented me from coming back.”
She was silent, refusing to help him out.
“Uh . . . are you married or something?” he asked, feeling awkward—a new sensation for him.
“Divorced,” she answered quietly. “And you?”
“No. Never did get married.”
“I see.”
“You look great.”
So do you, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. He was so damned handsome.
“One drink, Dani. How about it?”
“I don’t drink.”
“I’ll buy you a milk shake.”
Damn! He was attractive. What harm was there in having a drink with him? He was just another man, and she knew exactly how to deal with men.
“Fine,” she murmured, giving in. “One milk shake. Chocolate. And then I have to get home.”
An hour later they were on the bed in his hotel room at the Estradido, making wild, passionate love.
She had never felt this way before. Never. Sex was something other people did. Not her. She wasn’t interested.
Yet here she was—with Michael. And it was as if the world stopped and he was the only person who mattered.
His touch made her moan and shiver with pleasure. The way his body felt up against hers. His lips so insistent—covering every inch of her flesh.
She was transported to another time, another place. She was truly happy.
For the first time since Beth’s tragic murder, Michael could feel the pain lifting away. There was something about Dani—something warm and nurturing. Suddenly he felt at peace. It seemed that being in her arms was the right place to be.
The sex was incredible, too. It wasn’t as if he was scoring—more like connecting. He knew she felt the same way. She had to.
Afterward they lay on the bed, side by side, silent, peaceful, and content.
“Wow!” he said at last. “That was something.”
“Yes, it was,” she agreed.
“You were . . . are . . . sensational.”
“Isn’t it about time you got dressed and left?” she said, deciding she couldn’t allow this to go any further.
“Huh?”
“Y’know, repeat performance. See you again in ten years.”
“Ouch!” he said, sitting up. “I explained to you where I was. Didn’t think you’d appreciate the ‘Dear Dani, I’m in jail’ letter.”
“I might’ve appreciated something.”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching for a cigarette. “I know.” A long beat. “Hey—it wasn’t as if I didn’t think about you.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Dani,” he said seriously. “We were both kids then.”
“Yes,” she said. “I was only sixteen.”
“What?”
A slight smile. “Didn’t want to scare you.”
“Jeez!” he said, shaking his head. “I coulda been arrested.”
“You were,” she said dryly.
“Yeah, but not for sleepin’ with a juvenile.”
She reached over and touched his face. The same nose, eyes, lips as her little Vincent. My God, if he ever saw him, he’d know at once. She had to make sure that never happened.
“You were pretty spectacular onstage tonight,” he said admiringly. “I got such a kick when you walked out.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I’d been over at the Estradido lookin’ for you. Then I figured you’d gotten married an’ were long gone. You can imagine my surprise when you appeared onstage.” He stared at her intently. “It’s like fate, huh?”
“Kind of,” she said hesitantly.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “It was meant to be.” He smiled at her. “Dani Castle. That’s quite a name. I was reading about you in the program.”
“You got a program?”
“I picked one up on the way out. Where did you come up with ‘Castle’?”
“Saw it in a magazine and it seemed like a good name.”
“Dani Castle,” he repeated.
“Michael,” she said, throwing all inhibitions aside, “I do believe you’re talking too much.”
He grinned. “I am, huh?”
“Yes—you am,” she said softly, running her fingers lightly across his stomach.
“Well . . . ,” he said, touching her breasts. “In that case . . .”
The second time was even better. Dani tried to figure out what it was. With Sam the sex was a disaster. And with Dean—even though he’d tried to be a caring lover—she’d lain there like a log, completely unaffected by his ministrations.
How come Michael was the only man capable of lighting her fire?
She didn’t know, she didn’t care. She simply surrendered to the moment.
Tina successfully managed to lose all her earlier winnings in the space of two hours. When she looked at her watch she was shocked to discover how much time had passed. Where the hell was her husband? She’d been so caught up playing the slots that she hadn’t noticed he was missing. And why hadn’t Michael come looking for them?
She got up and began searching the casino for Max, finally tracking him down at one of the blackjack tables, where he was winning. This was a reversal of fortunes—one moment she was up and he was down. Now it was his turn.
“Honey,” she said, coming up behind him. “You’re winning!”
“Sure am,” he said excitedly. “Don’t stand too close—you might change my luck.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said indignantly, taking a step back.
“Shh . . . I gotta concentrate.”
“Can I have some money to play with?”
“No,” he said, protecting his stack of chips with both hands.
“What do you mean—no?”
“You said no to me, so why should I give you money?”
“You’re so selfish,” she argued. “I was planning on spending my money on the children.”
“Then go do it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I lost it all.”
“Jeez!” Max said. “Here’s a hundred. Go lose that.”
“Oh, Mr. Generous,” she said sarcastically. “How much are you up, anyway?”
“I dunno. Go away.”
“Where’s Michael?”
“Around somewhere.”
“Okay, I’ll take this hundred and win all my money back.”
“Sure, baby—that’s the spirit.”
Hmm, she thought. Max at the tables is a different man. Assertive, sexy, in charge. I like it!
She’d win her money back, then drag him upstairs. They’d been married a few years now, and he wasn’t as enthusiastic in the bedroom as he used to be. Maybe tonight she’d light a few sparks.
“Do not order room service,” Dani said, smiling.
Michael stretched and gave a lazy grin. “I thought, y’know, maybe champagne, caviar.”
“That’s a change.”
“From what?”
“Surely you remember? Last time it was ice cream and strawberries.”
He laug
hed. “You can order whatever you want.”
“I can?”
“Certainly.”
“Shrimp and french fries. Ice cream and strawberries.”
“Nice,” he said, grinning.
“Tonight was nice,” she murmured. “One nice night with you, and I’ll see you again in ten years.”
“Come on, Dani,” he groaned. “Don’t keep on rubbing it in. I told you—I was locked up for five years, an’ when I came out it seemed like too much time had passed.” He took a long beat, choosing his next words carefully. “Then I had uh . . . more trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“You didn’t happen to read about me awhile ago, did you?”
“Read about you?”
“I was all over the papers in New York. Guess it wasn’t a national story, thank God!”
“What was it about?”
“Something I was accused of that I didn’t do.”
“Is that why you changed your name?” she asked curiously.
“I needed a fresh start. People knew who I was. Hey—do you mind if we don’t get into it now?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Thanks.”
“When are you going back to New York?”
“I’m supposed to leave the day after tomorrow, but I was thinking I might stay a few extra days. Would you like that?”
“I don’t know, Michael,” she said unsurely. “This is not something we should take any further, because—”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “ ’Cause I’m not reliable. Right?”
“You don’t have to stay over for me,” she said quietly. “I came up here by choice tonight.”
“Are you sayin’ that last time I forced you?”
“I was a virgin. I had no idea what to expect.”
“Oh great,” he said, half joking. “That’s right, make me feel guilty.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“Hey—remember what you told me?”
“No,” she said, remembering only too well.
“You told me you loved me. I never forgot that.”
“You see what a foolish little girl I was?” she said lightly.
“You weren’t foolish, you were wonderful. You still are.”
“I’d better call home.”