"You must relax." Ken put a soothing hand on his arm.
Ron shook it off. He had not been pleased with Ken since the eye incident with Antonio. "No more flirting," he'd warned him.
"As if I would," Ken had replied, quite affronted that Ron even imagined he was doing so.
"I've never given a party like this before," sighed Ron.
"What a responsibility!"
"It wil be successful," Ken said. "I can promise you that."
"I don't care about successful," Ron said irritably. "I already told you--it has to be the most talked-about party of the year."
"Same thing," said Ken.
Ron shot him a look. What did he know?
Abigaile had no intention of hiding herself from public life just because Mickey had done something most other men in town probably did al the time but were smart enough not to get caught doing. She had every intention of attending the surprise party for Venus Maria. Her problem was, who could she get to escort her? Abigaile had no male friends; al the men she knew belonged to Mickey.
Sitting in Ivana's, having her hair attended to by Saxon, she came up with a bril iant idea.
"Saxon, dear," she said, slightly condescendingly, "how would you like to attend a glamorous Hol ywood party?"
Saxon couldn't believe Abigaile Stol i was about to invite him out. It certainly wasn't the first time a client had come on to him, but he'd never expected it from her.
"Wel ?" Abigaile said impatiently, waiting for his reply.
He stal ed for time while he thought it over. "Wel what, Mrs.
S.?"
"Do you want to come to a Hol ywood party with me or not?"
Like he hadn't been to ten thousand of them. "Uh, I I. . ." He didn't know what to say. Maybe he should say yes. She looked desperate. "Sure, what party did you have in mind?"
"A birthday party for Venus Maria."
"I'm already invited to that, Mrs. S."
"You are?" She was surprised. Hairdressers weren't supposed to get invitations to important events.
"Yeah, I do her hair. She's a good friend."
"She is? I didn't know that. You've never mentioned her."
He grinned. "I'm discreet."
"Wel , then, if you're already going, perhaps you can escort me."
Saxon saw no way out. This was real y going to blow everyone's mind! He couldn't wait to see Venus Maria's face when she realized he was with Abigaile Stol i! It might be worth it for a laugh.
"It'l be a pleasure, Mrs. S.," he said. "Shal I pick you up?"
Abigaile suffered from car anxiety. "What car do you drive?"
"A Jaguar."
She thought a moment before deciding a Jaguar was acceptable. "Hmm . . . very wel ."
"About what time?"
"What time does it start?"
"Ron wants everybody there by seven-thirty. He's planning the ful surprise bit. So I'l pick you up around seven-fifteen.
You'd better jot down your address for me."
Abigaile did so and left the salon feeling quite lightheaded.
If Mickey could have an affair with a six-foot-tal black policewoman, she could certainly appear at Venus Maria's party with an exceptional y good-looking hairdresser.
Why not? Al was fair in love and marriage.
After mul ing it over, Mickey decided he'd go to the party for Venus Maria. He had nothing else to do. Sitting in a hotel room night after night, as luxurious as it was, had not turned out to be a laugh a minute. At home he had his own personal Olympic-size swimming pool, his sauna, his steam bath, his gym, and his magnificent private study leading into his screening room.
Ah, the comforts of home. How he missed them!
If he was going to divorce Abigaile, he'd better think about buying himself a house. And fast. Hotel living was not for him.
Martin Swanson was screwing him around. He couldn't reach him. Every time he cal ed, he got one of Martin's many assistants who gave him the Zeppo White story.
Apparently they had to handle Zeppo careful y. Zeppo had an extremely lucrative contract with Orpheus, and he had no intention of leaving. At least not voluntarily.
"How long is this going to take?" Mickey had asked.
"Soon," was the reply he received.
"Soon" was getting to be a word he hated.
He didn't even have the energy to return to Madame Loretta's. Every time he thought about getting laid he remembered a hand clamping him on the shoulder and a voice saying, "You're under arrest."
Talk about putting a man off sex!
And as for Warner, he missed the sex, the compliments, and the uncomplicated pleasure of being with her.
But it was over. Of that he was sure.
Chapter 94
Rita wore a red dress that emphasized every curve of her quite spectacular body. She pirouetted for Emilio, showing off. "You like, honey?"
He whistled. "Hot!"
Pleased with his reaction, she twirled a couple more times.
"What are you going to wear?" she asked. Emilio had a new pair of brown leather pants and a matching leather jacket. He planned to wear the outfit with a dusty-pink fril ed shirt.
When he put on the leather pants, they clung unflatteringly to his thighs, making him look plumper than he already was.
Rita didn't care to point this out because Emilio was a vain one, and she wasn't about to piss him off.
"Do I look hot too?" he asked, strutting peacock-like in front of her.
"Veree hot," she replied--not such a lie, because he'd already started to sweat. "Are you sure your sister's going to be pleased to see you?" Rita worried. "She screamed
'Fuck you' on the answering machine. It doesn't exactly sound like you're the person she wants to be with.
Especial y with the new issue of Truth and Fact out today."
"Wil you quit? She loves me," Emilio boasted. "The Sierras stick together."
"O. K." Rita wasn't about to argue. This was going to be an amazing party and she didn't want to miss it. She'd get there somehow. With or without Emilio.
Warner went out and splurged on a gold-spangled dress. If her idol, Magic Johnson, ever saw her in it, he would die for her. She added a matching jacket. Parading in front of the mirror, she decided Johnny Romano was definitely going to like what he saw. But just in case he didn't . . . she folded her old uniform and stuffed it in an overnight bag, along with her-handcuffs and gun.
When the limo arrived to pick her up, she had the driver place her bag in the trunk.
"When we get to Mr. Romano's at the end of the evening,"
she said with a pleasant smile, "make sure I don't forget it."
"Certainly, ma'am," replied the driver, looking her over and deciding she had the best tits he'd ever seen.
"Thank you." Warner climbed in the car, exhibiting plenty of leg. "Are we picking Mr. Romano up?" "We're on our way,"
said the driver, happy with his view.
"I'm a movie star," recited Johnny Romano, admiring himself in the mirror. "Hey, man, I'm a movie star."
There was nobody else in the room, but Johnny liked to hear the sound of his own voice. It turned him on, gave him a charge. "Hey, man, I'm a movie star." He repeated the words a third time and grinned at his reflection. Cool. He was looking cool.
A model he'd dated a couple of times had turned him on to Armani, and the Italian look real y suited him. Sharp tailoring. Black suit, black shirt, white tie. And with his black hair, olive skin, and dark eyes, he certainly looked like a movie star.
The entourage waited downstairs. The entourage did everything for him.
Being a movie star meant never having to lift a finger.
He could remember when it wasn't that way. Oh, could he remember! Johnny's first job in Hol ywood had been parking cars. Big, sleek, expensive automobiles.
Most people whose cars he parked had treated him as if he didn't exist. Some of the nicer ones gave a decent tip, but most of the time he was fortunate to make the two-dol ar
parking fee.
Sometimes, at parties, he saw the very same. People whose Rol ses and Porsches he used to park. What a kick it would be to tel them, "Hey, man--I pissed in your trunk. I ripped off your radio. I stole your cassettes."
They wouldn't appreciate the joke. But he liked it a lot.
That was before stardom. Before he was Johnny Romano.
Before he was a movie star.
One last look in the mirror. The man was hot. The man was gonna kil 'em! In spite of abysmal reviews of his movie and an ominous drop at the box office. What did he care?
People loved him. They'd be back.
He flung open the door to his bedroom. "Hey, Johnny Romano is ready," he yel ed out. "Let's go!" The entourage snapped to attention.
The Sleazy Singles had sort of adopted Eddie Kane. He was their kind of guy.
"You going to that party?" Arnie asked him. "It's like a surprise thing for Venus Maria. We may as wel pick up broads. Best place in town to do it."
"Sure," agreed Frankie. "You'l come with us."
Vaguely Eddie remembered he'd been invited several weeks ago. God! Several weeks ago seemed like a lifetime. "Yeah, why not?" he decided. "I'l take a ride to my house and change. I feel like a shower."
"Why don't you shower here?" said Frankie, ever the generous host.
"Yeah, why don't you fuckin' move in?" guffawed Arnie.
They al laughed.
"Hey, guys, I'l see you there. Gimme the address."
Frankie scribbled it on a piece of paper and handed it over.
Eddie drove back to his house. On the way he cal ed Kathleen Le Paul. "I need to make a buy," he said. "Can you come by my house?"
She was short with him.. "What do you think I am, your runner? I happen to be busy tonight."
"And I happen to be one of your best customers," he reminded her.
"Yeah, one of my best nonpaying customers. You stil owe, and until I get paid--no more deliveries." * He slammed the phone down in a fury. Bitch!
The Maserati ripped up the highway. God, he loved his car.
He'd sel his house, he'd sel his clothes, but he'd never sel his goddamn car.
"We're going to a party," Lucky informed Gino. "Aw, come on, I'm partied out," he said, groaning. "Don't sound like such an old grouch. We're going to a real Hol ywood bash, and we'l have a great time."
"A great time, huh?" He looked at her like she was nuts.
"You know how many of those things I went to when I was with Marabel e Blue? And how about when I was married to Susan? She dragged me to three a night! Christ. A great time--you gotta be kiddin'."
"Wil you quit with the bitching? I want you to meet Venus Maria. She's a fabulous woman."
"Hey, kid, when you reach my age you've seen everythin', you've done everythin', an' you know something? You don't wanna see nothin' else."
"Stop talking like that. You're getting on my nerves. We're going, O. K.?"
Gino shook his head. "You're a tough broad."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, and I got a smart mouth.. So you've always told me. I'm just like my daddy!"
They both laughed.
"Lucky, you real y turned out to be somethin'." "And so did you, Gino. So did you. Now go change --I want to see you in a suit."
Mary Lou and Steven had taken little Carioca Jade, Cee Cee, Bobby, and his school friend to Santa Barbara to visit one of Mary Lou's aunts. They were staying overnight.
Lucky had given Miko a few days off before he had a nervous breakdown. The place was a mess, but she didn't mind as long as everyone was having a good time.
Prowling through her closet, she decided on a white tuxedo with nothing underneath. When she was dressed, she looked strikingly beautiful with her unruly mass of jet curls, black gypsy eyes, wide, sensual mouth, and weekend suntan.
"Hey, kid," Gino said when he saw her. "What am I gonna tel you? You make me proud."
"Thanks, Gino . . . Daddy."
Their eyes met, father and daughter. They were truly united.
"Let's go party," Lucky said, smiling.
Chapter 95
"Kil her," Carlos Bonnatti said.
"Who?" asked Link.
Carlos Bonnatti paced around his Century City penthouse.
"Lucky Santangelo, that's who."
"It's as good as done."
"I hope so.'."
"Don't worry, the lady is already dead."
"She's no fuckin' lady, she's a Santangelo. It's to be done within the next twenty-four hours. And it better look like an accident."
"You got it, boss."
Carlos nodded. The time had final y come to take revenge.
Chapter 96
Cooper arrived on time to pick up Venus Maria. "What's so important that we have to go out to dinner?" she asked. "I'd real y like to stay home. It's my birthday tomorrow and Martin's coming in. I need an early night."
Cooper shrugged. "I'l bring you home by midnight --just in time to wish you a happy birthday. How's that?"
"Very funny, Cooper."
"My aim is to amuse."
"So, what's the big secret? Why were you so insistent we get together tonight?"
"When I explain it, you'l understand."
"Is it something about Martin?"
"In a way. Remember when you asked me to talk to him?"
"That was a while ago. Everything's changed since then."
"So I noticed. But I stil think we should discuss some of the things he said."
She sighed. "O. K., Cooper, if that's what turns you on."
He didn't crack a smile. "Yes, it is."
She reached for her purse. "We're awful y serious tonight."
"I'm practicing for when you announce your wedding."
"Would it bother you?"
They exchanged a long silent look before Cooper changed the subject and said, "Is that what you're wearing?"
She was clad in ripped-at-the-knee jeans, a tight white T-shirt, and an oversized man's jacket. So much for Ron's theory that if she was seeing him she'd wear some incredible outfit.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said sarcastical y. "Doesn't this cut it for Hamburger Hamlet?"
"I booked a table at Spago."
"Not again! I can't be photographed with you every time we go out. Once or twice is a laugh, but this is ridiculous.
Martin's going to get pissed off."
"Martin couldn't care less about you and me. We're just friends, remember?"
"I'm not changing," she said stubbornly.
"Have it your own way. Don't say I didn't warn you."
She looked perplexed. "Warn me about what?" "Not to worry."
"You're acting strange tonight, Cooper."
"Yeah?" He stared at her. She was the most desirable and stimulating woman he'd come across in a long time and she belonged to somebody else. "Why do you think that?"
"You're just like, uh . . . jumpy." .
He glanced at his watch. "Come on. The sooner we go, the sooner I'l get you home."
"Charming! Maybe we should stay out until midnight."
"Why the change?"
"I told you--it's my birthday at midnight."
"You should have told me before, I would have bought you a present."
"That's al right, you can send me flowers tomorrow.
Orchids. I'm crazy for orchids." She took his arm. "Let's hit the road. I'm starving!"
Lennie booked the girls into the Beverly Hilton. He didn't deem it appropriate to turn up for a reunion with Lucky dragging Brigette and Nona along.
They loved the idea of staying in a hotel. Room service and cable television. They were perfectly happy.
"You're sure you're going to be O. K.?" he asked them for the fifth time.
"Wil you get out of here, Lennie?" Brigette said, giving him a little shove toward the door. "We're not kids, you know."
"I know that," he said. "But you've got to promise me--no boys in the room."
Nona giggled. "What makes you think we'd bring
boys up here?" she asked innocently.
"I was your age once. The memory doesn't go--just the body. Know what I'm saying?"
Both girls nodded and laughingly escorted him to the door.
"Yeah, yeah, Lennie, now get the hel out. Goodbye!"
He felt real y good, as if a weight had been lifted. It was al going to work out. He knew it.
Downstairs he had the doorman get him a cab, then set off for the beach. He tried to think of a great opening line. How about "I'm home"? That should do it.
Martin Swanson was met at the airport by Ken, who was proud to be assigned such an important task.
"Venus Maria has no idea you're going to be at the party,"
Ken offered. "In fact, she has no idea about the party."
"No photographers. You're sure about that?" "Absolutely sure," replied Ken, guiding Martin to a waiting limousine.
"I can't be photographed." Martin repeated his fears. "I've had it with the press. Publicity is exactly what I don't need.
It's becoming ridiculous."
"Oh, yes," agreed Ken, wishing the press would hound him.
"We understand perfectly."
"Good," said Martin. He was not in a talkative mood.
"The surprise wil be worth it," Ken said, putting on his Ray-Bans, even though it was after dark.
"I'm sure," replied Martin, less than modest.
Although none of them were aware of it, they passed one another on the highway, Lucky and Gino heading for Beverly Hil s, Lennie in a cab on his way to Malibu.
When Lennie arrived at the house, he was disappointed to find it empty. After letting himself in with his key he looked around. The place was a mess. Had Lucky been entertaining?
He yel ed for Miko a few times, then realized that even he wasn't home.
Shit! He should have told her he was coming. What made him think she was sitting around every night hoping he'd appear?
Goddamn it. Wel . . . she'd be home eventual y, and he'd be waiting.
And on another highway a short distance outside Los Angeles, Deena sat behind the wheel of her rented Ford and headed toward her destination.
Chapter 97
The throbbing rhythms of a half-naked bongo player welcomed the guests into Ron's somewhat eclectic home.