Drop Dead Beautiful

  Lucky realized she could happily move into her penthouse permanently. She didn’t miss L.A. at all, and if it wasn’t for Max, Gino Junior, and Leonardo, she would take up residence in a flash. But having kids tied a person down, and until they all went off to college, she and Lennie were stuck in one place. Well, not really stuck—soon their Malibu house would be finished and they could move out of stuffy Bel-Air and back to the beach, which they both loved. But she also loved Vegas. There was something about the place—it reminded her of Gino and the early days. Oh God! So many memories. Building the Magiriano and the problems involved—graft, union walkouts, and threats—but she’d built one hell of a hotel. And Marco—oh Marco, how she’d loved him, and when he’d been shot and killed, Vegas had lost its thrill. But now she was back and the Keys was all hers. And now she had Lennie, her husband, her rock. Yes, Vegas was still an exciting city with so much going on.

  Venus called to announce that they’d just arrived and that they were totally impressed with everything.

  “Our suite is beyond gorgeous,” she enthused. “How clever are you?”

  “Look who’s calling me clever,” Lucky responded, looking forward to showing off her new hotel to her best friend. “Was the drive up fun?”

  “Oh yes,” Venus said, sounding like she really meant it. “We spent most of it in my bed! Gives a whole new meaning to the mile-high club. Guess we just started the mile-long club!”

  “You’re incorrigible,” Lucky said, laughing.

  “Hey, when you’ve got a young lover, you gotta keep him occupied.”

  “Seems you do.”

  “Oh, news flash,” Venus announced. “Alex and Billy are on speaking terms, there’ll be no more fights.”

  “That’s a relief. I hate it when two grown men beat the shit out of each other.”

  “Me too. It’s the last thing any of us need.”

  “Okay, so settle in,” Lucky said. “Then I thought we’d have drinks at our place around eight. I’ll send someone to escort you.”

  “Are we on the same floor as you?”

  “No. You’re in one of the hotel penthouses, we’re in the apartments.”

  “Drinks at eight sounds perfect, and after dinner Billy wants to gamble.”

  “Not at my hotel. I’d feel bad if he lost. Besides, the casino doesn’t officially open until tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, then where?”

  “How about dinner here, then we’ll go over to the Cavendish? Nothing like checking out the competition.”

  “No rivalry amongst hotel owners?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

  Later Lennie arrived, they took a shower, made love, then lay on the bed staring up at the skylight she’d designed above the bed with blackout blinds that could be closed at the press of a button. The blinds were open, revealing a startling expanse of sky and stars. It was beautiful and romantic.

  “Man,” Lennie observed. “I gotta admit, when you do something …”

  “You’d better stop telling me that,” Lucky said, smiling. “It’ll go to my head, and I’ll become impossible.”

  “Not you, sweetheart. When’s Gino arriving?”

  “Everybody’s coming in the morning.”

  “Excited?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “What time’s the party tomorrow?”

  “The reception starts at six, then everyone heads to the theater for Lina’s event, followed by Venus’s show. After that it’s outside for the fireworks display. Did I tell you I was able to get these silver fantasy fireworks from Italy? They are so fucking beautiful.”

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lennie said, stroking her hair. “Man, did I luck out finding you.”

  “Right back atcha.”

  Billy and Venus showed up on time.

  “Oh my God!” Venus said, checking everything out. “This place is amazing! I need to buy me a penthouse immediately. It’s too damn fabulous. What do you think, Billy?”

  “It’s pretty great,” he agreed, wandering around from room to room, especially loving Lennie’s den. “You want me to buy one of these apartments for you?”

  “How’s your career going?” she teased.

  “Very funny.”

  “I’ve got a great idea,” Venus said. “Let’s buy an apartment together, put both our names on it.”

  “Not good,” Lennie said, handing out martinis.

  “Why not?” Venus asked, blond and stunning in a simple Roberto Cavalli short silver dress.

  “He’s right,” Lucky agreed, equally stunning in a soft black leather pantsuit that fit her like a second skin. “If the two of you ever split up, who gets the apartment?”

  “That would be one hell of a fight,” Lennie remarked.

  “Thanks, my friends,” Venus said, bristling slightly. “What makes you think we’re going to split up?”

  “I can solve this,” Billy said, quickly jumping in. “Either I buy it, or she does, or I buy it for her.”

  “Maybe I should mention there are only two penthouses left,” Lucky said. “Brigette’s thinking of buying one, and Bobby’s got his eye on the other.”

  “I’m your best friend,” Venus pointed out. “I should get first dibs.”

  “I’ve been telling you about them forever,” Lucky reminded her. “If you’d come in at the construction stage, you could’ve had the shell designed exactly to your specifications.”

  “I didn’t realize they were this fabulous.”

  “Anyway, the two available penthouses are not quite finished, so whoever gets them can choose their own kitchens, bathrooms—”

  “Tell you what,” Billy said magnanimously. “I’ll buy it for Venus as a present.”

  “Nice gesture, Billy,” Lucky said. “But I think I should tell you that the asking price is twelve million dollars.”

  “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Totally serious.”

  “Guess I’m not getting a present,” Venus said ruefully. “My boyfriend is a cheapo.”

  “Come on,” Billy said. “Even you have to admit that’s freakin’ outrageous.”

  “How much did you make on your last movie?” Venus asked, winking at Lucky.

  “Not enough,” he said, thinking that she couldn’t possibly be serious.

  “Now, now, you two,” Lucky said. “No fighting over millions, it’s time for dinner. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 72

  After Luis left, Irma slept peacefully. She was no longer concerned about Oliver Stanton. Sleeping with him had been a mistake, but now he’d stopped calling and gone away. She was sure it was pure coincidence that they’d sat next to each other on the plane, that she’d ended up having dinner with him, and that he’d turned out to be a drug enforcement agent. She regretted it, but at the time she’d thought she was leaving Anthony. The new Anthony was certainly worth giving another chance to. He was acting like a different man, and she was impressed.

  She wondered what had happened to change him. Being thoughtful and generous was so unlike Anthony. Maybe his mistresses had started to misbehave, and he’d remembered he had a wife at home. That could explain it.

  Anyway, they were merely mistresses, while she was Mrs. Anthony Bonar. That had to mean something, and it obviously did, because she was the one getting the diamond earrings.

  Idly she wondered if she could persuade him to vary his lovemaking technique. Anthony was so rough, and now, for the first time, she understood what making love could be like.

  Luis was an accomplished lover, but he was also an uneducated man with a pregnant wife, so she’d definitely decided not to continue their sexual tryst. Last night was the final time. It was memorable and now it was over.

  She’d slept with her new diamond earrings on the bedside table, and the first thing she did when she woke up in the morning was to admire them. They were simply the most beautiful pieces of jewelry she’d ever possessed.

  Marta brought
her breakfast on a tray.

  “What a lovely day it is today, Marta,” she said, smiling at the woman.

  Marta nodded, her face surly. She’d seen the señora bringing Luis into the house the previous day. She’d seen him follow her up the stairs into her bedroom, then she’d seen him depart several hours later. It wasn’t right. Should she warn his wife? But if she did, Luis would be out of a job and she knew his family did not have much money.

  One thing she did know, and that was, as the Bonars’ housekeeper, the safest thing was to keep her mouth shut.

  However, she couldn’t help confiding in her cousin, Rosa, the Bonars’ cook in Acapulco.

  “What the señora does is nothing,” Rosa spat. “Señor Bonar has mistresses everywhere. It is good she does it back to him.”

  “Luis is a nice boy,” Marta insisted. “I know the family, his wife is pregnant.”

  “So what?” Rosa responded. “If I was sleeping with a man other than my husband, I’d choose someone young too.”

  “And married?” Marta said disapprovingly.

  “You can’t blame the woman. Señor Bonar is a pig—he ignores his wife and manhandles me. I’m forced to accept the way he humiliates me in front of his friends. He often threatens to fire me, then he thinks it’s so funny. I loathe him.”

  “Why don’t you quit?” Marta asked.

  “Why don’t you?” Rosa responded.

  They both knew that neither of them could afford to.

  Unaware of the heated conversation going on downstairs, Irma glanced at the morning paper, ate her scrambled eggs and toast, and finally got out of bed. Had Marta noticed the diamond earrings lying on her bedside table? She probably should have put them away; tempting the staff was not wise.

  Excited at the thought of Anthony taking her to Las Vegas, she realized he had not taken her anywhere in years. This could be a new beginning. A second honeymoon.

  She went into the bathroom and ran a bath.

  When Anthony phoned her later she wasn’t surprised. She’d been expecting to hear from him.

  “My earrings are beautiful,” she said. “I can’t wait to wear them.”

  “I haven’t left yet,” Anthony said. “I’m still here.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “There was a problem with my plane. Didn’t wanna bother you, so I spent the night at a hotel.”

  “You should’ve come home,” she said, thinking of the consequences if he’d discovered her in bed with Luis. It did not bear thinking about.

  “We’ll have lunch again before I leave,” he said. “I’ll take you back to the same jewelry store, buy you somethin’ else. Wouldja like that?”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m gonna send the car for you.”

  “What about Las Vegas?” she asked hopefully. “Am I still going with you? I can pack and be ready to go with you today.”

  “Not a bad idea,” he said. “Do that. Don’t bring much with you—only a small bag.”

  “But if it’s a big opening, surely I’ll need a gown?”

  “You’ll pick up whatever you want in Vegas. An’ don’t forget t’bring your earrings.”

  “As if I’d forget.”

  “See you later,” he said, hanging up the phone and calling for The Grill.

  “Yes, boss?”

  “Go get it now,” he ordered. “An’ make sure the car bringin’ my wife is delayed on the way here.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Make it fast.”

  “Yes, boss,” the big man said, his wide face impassive.

  Anthony rubbed his eyes and thought about what he’d do if the evidence was incriminating.

  Someone would end up dead.

  That he knew for sure.

  Chapter 73

  The funeral of Penelope Whitfield-Simmons was a somber affair. It took place in Pasadena and there were almost a hundred mourners gathered at the graveside. Front and center was Penelope’s only son and heir, Henry Whitfield-Simmons.

  Henry stood with his head bowed. Later he maintained the same desolate expression as people lined up to offer him their condolences. He recognized most of the women—they were his mother’s friends, the pack of vicious gossips she’d surrounded herself with. The same women who’d either laughed at him or ignored him. It was different now that he was about to inherit the Whitfield-Simmons fortune.

  “I’m so sorry, dear,” one of the women said, gripping his arm with a clawlike hand. “What will you do?”

  I will be very happy, he thought. Very happy and very rich.

  “I’ll manage,” he said, adding a forlorn, “We’ll all miss her so much.”

  “I know, dear,” another woman said, patting his shoulder as if he were a pet dog. “Your mother was so fond of you, Henry. She talked about you all the time.”

  “She did?” he said, not believing her for a minute.

  “Yes,” the woman continued. “She was worried that you’d never find the right girl. I was delighted when she phoned me last week and told me that you had indeed met somebody.”

  “She was right,” Henry said. “I have.”

  “That’s wonderful news. The right girl will help you get over this sad occasion. Penelope wanted nothing more than to see you happily married, and perhaps one day have children of your own.”

  “It’ll happen,” Henry said, imagining what a beautiful baby he and Maria would produce. “If we have a daughter, we’ll call her Penelope.”

  “Such a precious sentiment,” the woman sighed.

  Henry nodded. Yes it is.

  There was a formal reception back at the mansion. It seemed to Henry that most of the people who attended wanted nothing more than to drink and eat and gossip amongst themselves. They were certainly not there to mourn Penelope Whitfield-Simmons, and although some of them mentioned her in passing, it was more of a social occasion.

  “She was so young,” one woman said. “To think that the poor dear simply went to sleep one night and failed to wake up the next morning.”

  “Yes,” Henry said. “According to the doctor, her heart stopped beating.”

  “It’s so sad,” the woman said. “But at least it was a peaceful ending.”

  His mother’s lawyer was there, a heavyset man wearing a suit and horn-rimmed glasses.

  “We have a lot to talk about, young man,” the lawyer said, approaching him in a blustery fashion.

  “We certainly do,” Henry replied, getting right to the point. “I understand that I am the sole beneficiary.”

  “Your mother told you that?”

  “She certainly did. We discussed everything, especially my upcoming trip.”

  “You’re going away?”

  “Yes. I have an important trip to make that I cannot postpone. I’ll be leaving at the end of the week. My mother was arranging for a substantial amount of cash for me to take. Since I am the sole heir, I’m sure you will see that it is taken care of before things are officially settled.”

  “How much did your mother promise?” the lawyer asked.

  “One hundred thousand dollars,” Henry said calmly. “And also please have your office arrange a black American Express card for me. I’ll need it while I’m traveling.”

  “Where will you be going, Henry?”

  “Europe. In the meantime I’ve decided to put the house on the market, so perhaps you can take care of that too.”

  “You’re putting your mother’s house on the market?” the lawyer said, expressing surprise. “Surely you should think about this for a while.”

  “I do not need to. My mother and I discussed it many times. She didn’t want me living here by myself surrounded by memories. She was adamant that when she died I must sell the house.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll be in touch. And I wish to have the money and the credit card before the end of the week.”

  The house was delightfully peaceful when everybody finally left and he w
as alone. The live-in couple retired to their apartment above the garage, while Markus went home at night.