Drop Dead Beautiful

  “Don’t have any—they died in a plane crash. I live with my older brother. He’s a fireman.”

  “Your brother’s a fireman?”

  “What did I just say?”

  “Sorry, that’s one of my bad habits, repeating things.”

  “You have bad habits?” he teased.

  “Shut up.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “I don’t think I can go much farther,” she said. “My ankle’s hurting so badly.”

  “What’s up with your ankle? I thought it was your side that hurt.”

  “He shackled my ankle to the bed, it’s all blistered and bleeding.”

  “Jeez! What a sicko.”

  “He kept me like that for two days until I finally persuaded him to take it off. Thank God I did, otherwise I’d never have been able to reach the window and get out.”

  “Sorry this had to happen to you, Max,” he said.

  “No,” she replied. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess, ’cause—y’know …”

  “What?” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “Nothing,” she murmured, thinking how incredibly close she felt to this boy she hardly knew. This boy in the Lakers sweatshirt with the cleft in his chin. This boy who’d saved her.

  Henry didn’t often dream, but when he did his dreams were always extremely vivid and graphic. In this particular dream Maria was stroking his forehead and telling him she loved him. He could see her face, so young and serene and innocent, her intense green eyes staring into his, melting into his as if they were one. Then she climbed on top of him and very slowly began to unzip his pants.

  He reached for her breasts to feel them, touch them …

  And he climaxed in his sleep, which awoke him.

  He lay there for a minute, disoriented and perfectly satisfied. He might be a virgin, but that didn’t mean he did not experience the most earth-shattering orgasms. Usually they were brought on by a trio of girls he visited on the Internet. This time it was different. This time it was real.

  After a while he consulted his watch. Five A.M. Monday morning, and only just beginning to get light outside. Maria was asleep in the bedroom. His Maria, so near, so dear.

  Yesterday she’d begun to thaw toward him. He’d talked and she’d listened. He’d removed the shackle from her ankle because he’d finally felt he could trust her. She must’ve sensed—like he did—that it was the beginning of the rest of their lives together. The beginning of paradise.

  Feeling exceptionally happy and content, he got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, stopping to listen outside her door as he passed.

  Soon he would be in that bed with her. Oh yes, very soon.

  But he had no intention of pushing her. As far as he was concerned she could take all the time she needed.

  “Let me take a look at your hands,” Max said as soon as it started getting light.

  Ace held out his hands for her to inspect. They were blistered and covered in scratches, his fingernails broken and torn.

  “Do they hurt?” she asked, gently touching them.

  “ ’S okay,” he said. “I’ll live.”

  “You want to see my ankle?” she offered.

  “It’s not number one on my list of things to do, but if you insist,” he said, taking a quick peek. “Man, what an asshole!”

  “Like you said, he’s a sicko.”

  “At least we got away.”

  “Thanks to you,” she said, looking around and observing nothing but long grass and tall trees. “How long do you think we’ve been running?”

  “I dunno, my watch broke.”

  “He took mine.”

  “Do I stink?” Ace asked, sniffing his sweatshirt.

  “I’m not exactly Miss Clean, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “No, seriously, do I? I was locked in that place forever. I had to dig through God knows how much crap to get out.”

  “You’re not exactly smelling like a rose, but neither am I.”

  “She’s so sweet.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said, thinking that sweet was hardly the way she wanted him to view her.

  “Man,” he said, standing up and stretching. “You wanna know what I’m imagining?”

  “What?”

  “One big fat juicy burger, with fries, and a can of cold beer. Did he feed you?”

  “Fruit and cereal, soup and bread. He had a fridge full of stuff.”

  “That means he was prepared,” Ace said thoughtfully. “He must’ve had it all planned.”

  “He was definitely expecting me to go off with him for the weekend.” She hesitated for a moment. “This might sound weird, but I think he has kind of a crush on me.”

  “Sure,” Ace said disbelievingly. “That must be why he shackled your ankle and held a gun to your head. Some big crush.”

  “He sounded so cool in his e-mails,” Max mused. “I guess he totally faked me out. I feel like such a moron. If my mom finds out, she’ll kill me.”

  “So you’re telling me that you get kidnapped, manage to make a daring escape, and your mom’s gonna kill you?”

  “You don’t know her.”

  “Don’t think I want to.”

  “Anyway, I’ve made up my mind that if we get out of this, I’m not telling her. If she finds out the truth she’ll never let me out of the house again.”

  “Some dragon lady.”

  “I’ll tell her I had a flat tire, got carjacked and dumped off in the woods.”

  “That’s a better story than the truth?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Be quiet a minute,” he said, standing very still. “I can hear a car, we must be near a road.”

  “Really?” she said excitedly.

  “Yeah, this way,” he said, pulling her up. “Let’s go hitch a ride.”

  “Looking like this?” she said, stumbling. “Nobody’s going to stop for us.”

  “Here’s the deal—I estimate we’re about twenty-five miles outside town, so we need to get a ride. Otherwise we’re screwed, he’ll catch up with us for sure. When we hit the road, stay by the side so we can see if it’s him coming. I saw his car outside the cabin, he must’ve taken yours back and made a swap.”

  “Do you think my car’s in the Kmart parking lot?”

  “If it is we’d better get to it before he does.”

  “I’m so cold,” she said, shivering uncontrollably. “I think I’ve had it.”

  “No flaking out on me now, Max. You’ll have plenty of time to collapse when we’re safe. Right now you gotta move it. I promise you—we’re almost there.”

  Chapter 51

  “I never want to do that again,” Lucky groaned, reaching for a bottle of water on her bedside table.

  “What’re you never gonna do again?” Lennie asked, rolling over in bed and placing his hand on her thigh. “The sex? The party? The fight?”

  “We missed the fight,” she pointed out. “And stop being facetious, I’m in no frame of mind to deal with your sarcasm.”

  “You’re not?” he said, stroking her leg.

  “No, Lennie,” she said, removing his hand. “I have a bitch of a headache, even my eyes hurt.”

  “It’s not a headache, sweetheart, it’s a hangover. You were drinking champagne.”

  “Don’t remind me. Champagne always gives me a mother of a headache. Why did you let me drink it?”

  “Why did I let you?” he said, amused. “When have I ever stopped you from doing anything?”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. “Still… I’m sorry we missed the fight,” she added, stifling a yawn.

  “I’m not. Had more fun making out in the bathroom with you. Now, that’s my idea of a party.”

  “I guess I’d better get up,” she said, sliding out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Can you call downstairs and check if Max is back?”

  Lennie buzzed Philippe in the kitchen and asked the question.

  “She’s not back,” he called out. “Everyone
else is assembling for breakfast.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Lucky exclaimed, emerging from the bathroom. “I’m supposed to fly back to Vegas today, but there’s no way I can go until I look her in the eye and tell her exactly how I feel about her missing Gino’s birthday.”

  “Go to Vegas. I’ll deal with Max.”

  “Lennie, when it comes to our daughter you’re a softie and she knows it.”

  “Listen,” he said. “You’ve got a hotel to open. You can’t let Max distract you.”

  “It’s hardly a distraction, more an act of war,” she said, pulling on black workout pants and a long-sleeved Nike T-shirt. “Plus I’m worried about her.”

  “You are?”

  “Why do you think she called Gino Granddad on her message?”

  “Who knows?” Lennie said, tying his robe. “Could be she was feeling guilty about missing his party.”

  “I’m starting to have a bad feeling about things.”

  “What things?”

  “We can’t reach our daughter. We have no idea who she’s with. The whole situation is giving me negative vibes, and you’re totally calm about it.”

  “She’s on her way home, Lucky.”

  “And what if she’s not? What if she’s run off to Vegas and gotten married?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I wouldn’t put doing something totally crazy past her. Who knows what she’s capable of?”

  “Yeah, but married? Our Max? In Vegas? Forget about it.”

  “I hope I’m wrong, but my instincts tell me we shouldn’t be hanging around waiting for her to show. We should be doing something.”

  “Such as?”

  “Looking for her, Lennie. How about that?”

  “And where do you suggest we start?”

  “I wish I knew, but I don’t, so I’m calling Cookie. She might remember something she’s not telling us.”

  “What about your trip?”

  “Vegas will have to wait.”

  “I think Billy’s adorable,” Brigette said, helping herself to a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon from the buffet Philippe had set up in the breakfast room. “And Alex is nothing but a big old bully.”

  “Hey,” Bobby said, drinking a large cup of black coffee, “are you forgetting it was Billy who took the first shot? What was Alex supposed to do, just stand there?”

  “He didn’t have to pound Billy into the ground,” Brigette retorted, sitting down at the table.

  “Got a little crush, have we?” Bobby said, teasing her. “If Venus finds out—”

  “Oh, yes,” Brigette said quickly. “And talking of crushes, I couldn’t help noticing that you were all over Venus like a cheap suit!”

  “Nothing cheap about me,” Bobby responded, cracking a grin. “And isn’t she a bit old for me?”

  “You know what they say, Uncle—a woman in her forties is in her sexual prime, and a man in his twenties has it all going on. So … get her to dump Billy and the two of you can swing from the chandeliers!”

  “C’mon, Brig,” he objected, “she’s my mother’s best friend.”

  “All the better,” Brigette said crisply. “That way you can keep it in the family.”

  “Man, you’ve got a mouth on you,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “From little Miss Shy to the mouth that roared!”

  “I wasn’t always sweet little Brigette, sitting in my apartment quiet as a church mouse,” she said. “No, there was a time I was out there being used and abused by a series of assholes.”

  “Hey, listen, whatever turns you on.”

  “But that’s exactly the point, it didn’t turn me on. The last one almost killed me. Left me to die in some ramshackle farmhouse outside of Rome, pregnant. I lost the baby and practically bled to death.”

  “I guess an experience like that would turn anyone into a shut-in.”

  “Thank God for Lucky, she was the one who saved me. Without her intervention who knows what would’ve happened.”

  “That’s my mom,” Bobby said, going over to the buffet table and helping himself to a bagel. “She’s pretty adept at saving people.”

  “You’re so fortunate having her as your mother,” Brigette sighed.

  “An’ don’t I know it,” Bobby agreed, sitting down next to her.

  “Anyway,” Brigette said. “I enjoyed coming to L.A. with you, and last night was a fun party. Seeing all my old friends was quite a kick. Did you know that Lina and I used to model together?”

  “Wow!” Bobby exclaimed, whistling admiringly. “The two of you must have been some hot combination.”

  “We were,” she said, smiling at the memories. “Between us we ruled L.A., New York, Milan, Paris.”

  “I bet you did.”

  “Good times while they lasted.”

  “Hey, Brig, here’s an idea,” he said, chewing on his bagel. “When we get back to New York, you should start hanging out with me. I’ve decided to make it my mission to find you a guy who’s not an asshole.”

  “No thanks, Bobby.”

  “Why not?”

  “ ’Cause I’m perfectly content being man-free,” she said firmly. “One of these days you’ll learn. Love is a tough road, and believe me, the highs are not worth the lows.”

  “Very philosophical.”

  “I try.”

  “And so pretty while she’s trying,” he said, making major eye contact.

  “If you weren’t my uncle, I’d think you were flirting,” Brigette said, half smiling.

  “Who, me?”

  “You’re a dog, Bobby. The kind of guy I would’ve been attracted to before I learned better.”

  “That’s insulting,” he said, not insulted at all.

  “How many girls did you sleep with and not call back last year?”

  “Hey,” he objected.

  “I thought so,” she said triumphantly. “You’re a dog.”

  “Who’s a dog?” Lucky asked, entering the room.

  “Your son.”

  “That’s okay,” Lucky said, pouring herself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. “He’s twenty-three, he’s entitled to enjoy himself.”

  “Not if he treats women badly.”

  “Who said I treat women badly?” Bobby spluttered. “I take ’em out to dinner, buy ’em presents—”

  “Sleep with them, then run like thunder,” Brigette said, finishing the sentence for him.

  “Nice opinion you have of me,” Bobby said cheerfully.

  “Took me years to figure out men,” Brigette said. “I think I’ve finally got it down.”

  “So cynical for one so young,” Lucky said, sitting at the table.

  “Yes,” Brigette agreed, quite enjoying the banter. “And you, Lucky, better than anyone, know why.”

  “That’s true,” Lucky said.

  Philippe entered the breakfast room looking quite flustered for once.

  “Everything all right?” Lucky asked.

  “There’s twenty men dismantling the tent,” Philippe said. “May I suggest everyone stays out of their way until they’re finished?”

  “Why? Is someone in their way?” Lucky asked.

  “Gino Junior and his friends.”

  “I’ll talk to him, Philippe.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Golden. Oh, and this was in the mailbox,” he added, handing her the now-familiar envelope.

  “What’s that?” Bobby said, pouncing.

  “Just another one of those stupid invitations,” she said, tearing it open.

  Bobby grabbed it from her. The same three words were scrawled on the card: Drop Dead Beautiful.

  “We need to get someone on this,” he said.

  “No we don’t,” Lucky said.

  “At least put in extra security cameras by the mailbox so we can see who’s delivering the envelopes.”

  “Okay, if it’ll make you happy I’ll have Philippe arrange it.”