“Did you hear from Max?” was her first question.
“No,” Cookie answered, wishing Lucky would stay out of her face. Why was she the one getting all the flak? “Did you?”
“She left a message on my cell,” Lucky said. “I’m wondering why she didn’t call on the main line.”
“So like what did she say?” Cookie asked, most put out that Max hadn’t called her, she’d left enough frantic messages.
“Just that she’s coming home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Harry questioned.
“I’m mad as hell,” Lucky said. “And you two—what were you thinking, letting her go off to Big Bear to meet a stranger? I thought you were her friends.”
“You know what Max is like,” Cookie said, shrugging. “We couldn’t stop her even if we wanted to. Max does things her way.”
“I understand that,” Lucky said coldly. “But did you have to encourage her?”
“We’re real sorry, Mrs. Golden,” Harry muttered.
“Don’t call me Mrs. Golden,” Lucky snapped. “It makes me feel ancient. You know my name—use it.”
“You’re like so right,” Cookie said, biting her lower lip. “We should’ve tried to stop her.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his black hair spiked higher than ever.
“Thing is, I did tell her,” Cookie said, getting into it. “I like so warned her that the Internet dude could turn out to be a pervert freako who could chop her up into little pieces.” Harry shot her a warning look. “Uh … just joking,” she finished lamely.
Shaking her head, Lucky walked back to join Venus and Billy. “You look fantastic,” she said to Venus, still distracted. “And Billy—always a star.”
“Oh, just what I need,” Venus muttered. “Here comes Cooper.” And as she finished saying it, Cooper strolled over with his very young girlfriend, Mandy, whom Billy seemed to know.
“Hey, Mandy!” Billy exclaimed, giving her a friendly hug. “How ya doin’?”
“Billy!” Mandy squealed. “You’re here! How fab! I thought it would be all old people!”
Venus gave Cooper a cool look. “Hello,” she said.
“Good evening, Venus,” he replied.
“I see you went trolling outside the school yard for a date,” she said, indicating Mandy, who was all over Billy.
“You too,” Cooper said, glancing at Billy. “Must run in the family, huh?”
“Alex, you drive like a maniac,” Ling complained, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat.
“I drive the way I’ve always driven,” Alex replied, maneuvering his Porsche into a line of cars waiting to enter the Bel-Air driveway of Lucky’s house. “Never had an accident.”
“Your driving makes me nervous.”
“Then shut your eyes.”
“Why can’t you be nice to me?”
“I am nice to you,” he said. “You live in my house, isn’t that being nice to you?”
“Is it because of your mother that you’re the way you are?”
“I have no problem with my mother,” he said, reaching for a cigarette.
“I think you’re wrong. Your mother is a very domineering woman.”
“No she’s not,” he said shortly, lighting up. “And do not discuss my mother, she’s off limits. Try to remember you’re a lawyer, not a shrink.”
“That’s right,” Ling said, holding tightly on to her clutch purse resting on her knees. “I’m a divorce lawyer, so I know plenty about relationships.”
“Good,” Alex said, exhaling smoke. “ ’Cause I’m not planning on getting married, which means you won’t have to represent me.”
“I represent women, only women,” Ling said.
“Of course you do,” Alex said, taking another drag on his cigarette. “When the fuck is this line of cars getting to the goddamn house?”
Ling gazed out of the window and hoped that maybe tonight she would meet somebody more to her liking than Alex Woods. He was an extraordinarily talented man, but he treated her with no respect, and that wasn’t right. But then again, as she’d recently confessed, she was in love with him, which made things complicated.
Soon they reached the front of the line where parking valets jumped forward to take the Porsche.
Alex got out and strode into the house. Ling tagged along behind him, finding it difficult to keep up in her ultrahigh heels.
Waiters holding trays of champagne were circulating. Alex grabbed a glass and downed it quickly. “Let’s go find the bar,” he said. “I need a proper drink.”
“Please don’t drink too much,” Ling begged.
“For God’s sake, quit with the nagging.”
Venus loved being out with Billy, especially amongst her peers. She knew they made an amazing couple—he didn’t look too young and she didn’t look too old. They looked like contemporaries. She also liked that he was getting plenty of attention as well as her. Billy was an excellent actor, and a well-respected one too. It wasn’t like she was out with some boy toy; Billy had his own high profile.
Holding on to his arm, she proudly introduced him to people he hadn’t met before, enjoying the compliments bestowed upon him.
Billy was enjoying himself too, although his crotch itched like crazy. Venus might have gotten rid of his crabs, but the stubble burn from her shaving skills was driving him nuts.
“Gotta go to the men’s room, babe,” he said, slipping away from her.
As he walked toward the house, a tray-carrying waitress stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
“Billy?” she said.
He gave her a puzzled look. “Do I know you?”
“You should know me,” she retorted. “It was you who gave me the crabs.”
Holy shit! It was the waif from Tower Records. Miss Broken Taillight herself. And here she was all neat and clean in a waitress uniform with her hair piled on top of her head, looking quite respectable.
“What do you mean, I gave you crabs?” he said, outraged. “I got them from you.”
“You certainly did not!” she replied, equally outraged. “You were the one who had them.”
Jesus! He motioned her over to the side of the room. “People can hear,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Don’t talk to me about this here.”
“When should I talk to you?” she retorted. “You gave me crabs and I had to spend a ton of money I didn’t have visiting the doctor and finding out what it was. You’re disgusting!”
“Hey,” he said, scowling, “you didn’t get them from me ’cause the only person I sleep with is my girlfriend.”
“Really?” she said. “Then what does that make me? A one-afternoon stand?”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said, steering her over to a quieter corner. “What I meant was that when we did it, I was broken up with my girlfriend.”
“Is Venus your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“And you hooked up with me? Wow! I’m flattered. I hope you didn’t give her crabs too.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, “will you shut the frig up? What do you want from me?”
“I want you to remember me when you see me. We had sex, I went down on you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you, Mister Big Movie Star?”
“What we had was a short encounter.”
“An encounter?” she said incredulously. “Should I have gotten your autograph on my ass? If I remember correctly, all you offered me was a signed photo.”
“What are you after? Money?”
“I’m an actress, not a hooker,” she said huffily. “Give me a part in your movie and I’ll shut up. Otherwise I’m telling Venus what a bad boy you’ve been. Okay?”
No. It wasn’t okay at all. But what could he do?
Hurriedly he gave her his cell phone number. In the distance he saw Venus approaching.
“Get lost,” he said, desperate to make a quick escape. “You got a deal, call me tomorrow. Now get the frig away from me.”
Chapter
45
Max wondered how long the freak was going to keep her prisoner. It disturbed her that he hadn’t covered his face. She knew what he looked like, which meant if she ever got out she would be able to identify him. And that wasn’t good, because in all the movies she’d ever seen involving a kidnapping, the kidnappers kept their faces covered— because if they didn’t, it meant they were planning to kill their victim.
Man, this was bad. This wasn’t a game.
And yet there was something about Internet Freak that gave her hope. He obviously wasn’t your usual run-of-the-mill criminal. He kept on looking at her with what she could only describe as a lovesick expression—like ugh! It was as if he wanted to be her boyfriend.
Maybe she should stop yelling at him and play up that angle, find out what he was really after, ’cause it didn’t seem to be money.
When he returned late in the afternoon she was all prepared with her new attitude.
“I think we got off to a bad start,” she ventured.
“Excuse me?” he responded, startled that she was speaking to him without yelling.
“Well, you are the same guy I was communicating with via e-mail, yes?”
He nodded unsurely.
“Then what went wrong?”
“Wrong?” he repeated blankly.
“I mean the whole thing with the gun,” she continued. “And this shackling me to the bed like some kind of animal. I thought we were friends.”
“But we are,” he said anxiously. “Friends, yes, we are certainly friends.”
“Friends don’t point guns at people and kidnap them.”
“I didn’t mean to. But the circumstances… your cousin … I wasn’t expecting him. You said you’d come alone. I was prepared for us to spend the weekend together, just the two of us.”
His words got her wondering about Ace. Could it be that they weren’t in cahoots, and if not, what had he done with him?
“Where is Ace, Grant?” she asked, speaking slowly.
It was the first time she’d used his name. It galled her to do so because all she really wanted to do was kick him in the balls and run—which hadn’t worked out so well earlier in the day.
“I told you,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I let Ace go.”
She knew he was lying, because why would he let Ace go? There was no way.
“Can you undo this thing around my ankle? It really hurts,” she said, summoning up a tear or two for his benefit.
“Last time—”
“Forget about last time, Grant,” she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. “I learned my lesson and this time I’ll behave. I promise.”
She watched him closely. His expression weakened, and she knew she was about to get a lot further by being nice.
He produced the key, undid the shackle, fetched her disinfectant and cotton swabs for her ankle, then allowed her into the living room where he fixed her a bowl of canned tomato soup. Wow! Why hadn’t she thought of being nice before?
They talked. Or rather he talked while she managed to check out her surroundings, taking in every detail. She noticed there was a chain and a double lock on the front door, and no bars on the window in the combination kitchen/living room where they were sitting. In the kitchen section she spotted a knife stand and a collection of pots and pans. In the living room she noticed that he’d set up his rollaway bed under the window.
His voice droned on, horribly monotonous. He told her he was an award-winning actor, and had received many accolades.
“Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked, not believing him for a minute.
“Did you see the film Seduction?” he asked, nervously cracking his knuckles, thrilled that he was getting a chance to impress her with his achievements.
Of course she’d seen Seduction—her mom had produced the movie. She remembered visiting the set when she was just a little kid. She sure as hell didn’t remember him.
“Were you in it?” she asked.
“I should’ve been,” he said, his tone suddenly changing, becoming sharp and angry.
“Then why weren’t you?” she asked, putting down her soup spoon.
“Because of—” He stopped abruptly.
Now that they were getting along so nicely, he didn’t care to bring up her bitch mother.
Later, when they were really close, he’d tell her the real story.
Later, when he’d convinced her they should stay together forever.
Chapter 46
Sunday night Anthony decided to throw another party. Even though it was a last-minute decision, he expected it to happen in spite of the fact that Rosa and Manuel had worked their asses off getting the roasted-pig lunch together at such short notice.
“My little Carolina’s gonna be fourteen in two weeks’ time, so tonight we celebrate,” Anthony informed his guests. “Right, Fanta? Right, Innes?” The two women nodded enthusiastically. “C’mere, Rosa,” he bellowed, summoning his cook.
Rosa appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. She was exhausted, and it showed on her heavily lined face.
“Rosa!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her in an overpowering bear hug. “You go make two of those chocolate cakes I like, an’ a lemon birthday cake for Carolina. An’ I think we have lamb tonight, an’ chicken, an’ those potatoes you cook so well. We have another feast,” he crowed, pinching her cheek with his thumb and forefinger. “You see this woman?” he boasted to his cronies. “She would do anything for me. Anything! Correct, Rosa?”
“Sí, señor,” Rosa muttered, enduring the humiliation of a pinched cheek.
“An’ if she doesn’t—I fire her ass. Sí, Rosa?” he said, roaring with laughter. “What you waitin’ for, woman?” he added, smacking her on the ass. “Go make the cakes, oh yeah, an’ some of those almond cookies you’re famous for. Move it!” he added, giving her one final whack on her ass before sending her on her way.
“Sí, señor,” Rosa said, wondering how he expected her to have time to organize a dinner party and bake. The man was loco, but she and Manuel needed their jobs, and when Anthony wasn’t in residence things were quite peaceful.
“She loves me,” she heard him braying to his lunch guests. “I’m tellin’ you, she loves me to death!”
Irma sat quietly watching Anthony strut and show off, plotting and planning her imminent escape. She knew that her husband kept cash in all his main homes, and taking some of his stash would hardly be considered stealing. After all, she was his wife, and if they lived in America half of everything he had would be legally hers.
She knew the combination of the bedroom safe in their house in Mexico City. Several months ago they’d arrived home from a big black-tie event late at night. Anthony was drunk—he’d flung his emerald cuff links and hundred-thousand-dollar diamond-encrusted watch at her and told her to put them in his safe. She’d asked him for the combination, and in his drunken state he’d given it to her.
She’d opened his safe, and was shocked to see bundles of cash piled high. After putting his watch and cuff links away, she’d written down the safe’s combination and hidden it.
Yes, she was more than entitled to anything she cared to take.
Much to Luis’s fury, Cesar decided to take Lucia up on her invitation to dinner. He arrived unexpectedly late Sunday afternoon, carrying a wilted bunch of flowers and a bottle of cheap sangria.
Lucia greeted him as if she was receiving a visit from the king of Spain. Lucia was desperate to get married and as far away as possible from the overcrowded family situation. She’d dated Cesar on and off for a year, and even though she’d given him what she considered memorable sex, he was not close to making any kind of permanent commitment. Cesar appearing at their house was an encouraging sign.
“Look who’s here,” she bragged to her two sisters and wheelchair-bound mother. “Doesn’t Cesar look handsome?”
Luis was dismayed to see him. He was not sure what Cesar knew about him and Señora Bonar—if anything. But it still made h
im uncomfortable that Cesar was in his house, making himself at home.
Ana Cristina, Luis’s seven-months-pregnant wife, followed her sister-in-law’s lead and greeted Cesar as if he were royalty. Everyone was impressed with his job. “Security guard” had a special ring to it. They all hoped he’d marry Lucia or at least take her off to live with him. Their tiny house was so full, and with Ana Cristina and Luis’s baby due soon, Lucia’s absence would be a godsend.