Confessions of a Wild Child (19 page)

I slam down the phone. A fleeting moment of triumph before the phone rings. I snatch it up.

‘Four o’clock in the Patio Room,’ Marco says flatly. ‘Flora will pick you up. Try not to keep Mrs Richmond waiting.’

Then he is gone.
My
Marco no more.

Damn him
.

Damn the whole freaking lot of them
.

*  *  *

Mrs Richmond is clad in Chanel from head to toe – even her two-tone shoes bear the designer label.

She sits at a table in the Patio Room, sipping tea and looking as if she’s experiencing a bad smell. Obviously this match between me and Craven does not thrill her.

I can’t help wondering what power Gino has over the Richmonds to make this happen. Something is going down, and I have no clue what it could be.

‘Lucky, dear,’ Betty Richmond says, a fake smile plastered on her frozen face. ‘Do sit. Might I order you some tea?’

I slouch into a chair. I am wearing jeans, combat boots, and a denim shirt. Earlier Flora arrived at Gino’s penthouse followed by a man pushing a rack of dresses. I’d refused to wear any of them.

‘I’ll have a Coke,’ I mutter.

‘So bad for you, all that caffeine,’ Betty scolds.

Like I care what the old bag thinks
.

‘So,’ Betty says, adjusting a discreet pearl earring. ‘We have much to organize.’

For a moment I realize the insanity that’s going on here. I hardly
know
Craven Richmond, and he’s certainly not proposed to me. Yet here I am, sitting with his mother, about to discuss our wedding. It’s crazy and kind of funny all at the same time. I experience an insane desire to laugh out loud. But I don’t. I remain straight-faced.

‘I have hired a wedding planner who is on her way here from Washington,’ Betty announces with a flourish. ‘She’s an extremely capable woman who will make sure everything runs as smoothly as possible.’ A long pause, followed by – ‘However, as you know, time is of the essence.’

What? I don’t get it
. Why is time of the essence? It’s not as if I’m pregnant or anything. The truth is I’m still a virgin, so lucky Craven. Yippee for the wedding night!

‘Tonight you and Craven are to enjoy a quiet dinner together,’ Betty Richmond continues. ‘My son will have a selection of rings for you to choose from. I picked them out myself – I’m sure you’ll find something that pleases you.’

Wow! Is this really happening? Where’s Olympia when I need her?

Help, help, HELP! It would be nice to have a friend to lean on.

‘Apart from the wedding planner I have arranged for my personal stylist to assist you in your choice of dress for the happy day. He will also be flying in. You will honeymoon in the Bahamas, everything is arranged.’ She pauses again, and licks her thin lips. ‘Now, dear, do you have any questions?’

Yes
.
Why is this happening?

‘Uh . . . no,’ I stutter.

‘I realize this is all taking place extremely fast,’ Betty says, dead eyes flickering. ‘However, this is the way Gino wants it, and we all know that when Gino wants something it is bound to happen.’

Yes, we all know that
.

‘OK, then,’ I mumble, sipping my Coke. ‘I guess everything is set.’

Betty nods her perfectly coiffed head. ‘It certainly is, dear. Your transformation will begin tomorrow with Raoul, my stylist. Try to wear something suitable for your dinner with Craven tonight, I’m sure he will appreciate it.’

Transformation? What the hell!

They can force me into a marriage, but they cannot take away who I am. And that’s for sure.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I
don’t dress for dinner. Why should I? Isn’t it enough that I’m agreeing to this farce of a marriage? Gino wants me to marry Craven Richmond, and he wants me to do it fast. According to Betty Richmond, within the next ten days!

A shotgun wedding with no shotgun involved.
Hmm
. . .

Why is everyone on board with this? Why are the Richmonds sacrificing their only son? Not that Craven is much of a sacrifice. He seems like a dolt, a nerd, a nonentity. Perhaps they realize he needs a girl like me to push him to be someone other than Peter Richmond’s boy.

Suddenly I am getting into this whole scenario. I will be Sadie Sadie Married Lady – and then I can do whatever I like. However, I am determined to find out how Gino has orchestrated this whole thing.

I pick up the phone and call Aunt Jen in New York. ‘Did you know about this?’ I ask, curious to find out what she has to say.

She waffles on, tells me that Gino is only doing this to protect me from myself, and that I should be thankful he’s so concerned about me.

I love Aunt Jen, but she’s not the smartest cookie in the jar.

‘Do you
know
the Richmonds?’ I ask.

‘We had dinner with the senator and Gino,’ Aunt Jen says, sounding vague. ‘Let me see, it was when Gino was dating that famous movie star – what was her name again?’

‘Marabelle Blue?’

‘Yes, lovely woman.’

I am curious. ‘Marabelle was friendly with the senator too?’ I ask.

Aunt Jen suddenly goes all evasive, which immediately gives me cause to be suspicious.

‘I’m not sure,’ she says, then quickly changes the subject. ‘Costa and I will be flying in for your wedding. We’re very excited for you.’ She lowers her voice. ‘It really
is
for the best, Lucky. You’re very mature for your years. It’s time for you to settle down. Gino knows what’s right for you.’

And if they think that settling down is what I’m going to do, then they’d better all think again. Because this girl has plans. Major plans.

*  *  *

Craven is waiting for me at the Polynesian restaurant in the hotel. He leaps up when he spots me approaching, almost knocking a tall vase of flowers off the table. He’d wanted to meet me at the bottom of the elevator, but I’d demurred, saying I would see him at the restaurant.

What a strange situation I am caught up in. Yet I’m feeling kind of in control and powerful – I’m not sure why.

‘Good evening, Lucky,’ Craven says in a choked-up voice.

‘Hey—’ I reply. I haven’t chosen to wear one of those disgusting dresses hanging in my room, but I have put on a short skirt and a black sweater. My hair is wild as usual, and my diamond earrings flash nicely.

‘You look b . . . beautiful,’ Craven stammers.

‘Thanks,’ I say, sitting opposite him instead of sliding onto the banquette next to him.

‘I’m s . . . s . . . sorry we couldn’t play tennis this morning.’

I shrug as if it doesn’t matter. ‘I’m not a very good tennis player, anyway. You’d probably have beaten me.’

‘Mother is a ch . . . ch . . . champion,’ he boasts. ‘She always wins.’

‘I bet,’ I say, stifling a random yawn.

‘Mother is an excellent sportswoman. Golf, swimming, skiing.’

‘Wow!’

‘Do you play golf?’

‘Isn’t that a game for old people?’

‘Mother finds it invigorating.’

‘Well, I’d sooner catch a movie.’

Polite conversation is now taking place between two people who don’t even know each other, but will shortly be a married couple. And all Craven can do is praise his dear old mom. Bizarro!

I wonder if he’s going to propose. How awkward will
that
be.

Fortunately he doesn’t. Instead, later in the evening he produces a tray of rings and suggests I choose two. ‘An engagement r . . . r . . . ring and a w . . . w . . . wedding band,’ he stammers, red in the face.

The truth is I feel sorry for him. He’s not any kind of threat, and he sure as hell isn’t sexy. He seems introverted and devastatingly shy. And then there’s the stammer.

I inspect the rings. Not my style, but I choose a nice-sized diamond and a thin gold wedding band.

Nervously he leans across the table and slips the engagement ring on my finger.

‘For you,’ he says.

‘Thanks,’ I reply, wondering if there’s any chance of making a run for it later and hitting the town.

The rest of the dinner is uneventful. Craven continues to talk about his mother a lot – it’s as if in his mind she’s some kind of super-goddess who can do no wrong. I note he doesn’t have much to say about Peter, his father. If I was to hazard a guess, I’d say that Peter finds him to be a big disappointment.

‘Are you interested in following your dad into politics?’ I enquire, thinking what it might be like to be a political wife. I could conquer Washington instead of Vegas. What a trip
that
would be.

Craven shakes his head. I decide that he needs to grow his hair – the way he has it cut now does not flatter him.

‘Not at all,’ he says firmly. ‘Never.’

‘What do you do now?’ I ask curiously. And I have a hundred more questions such as –
where will we live? Who are your friends? What are your hobbies? Are you into travel? Have you ever had sex?

‘I work with mother on her charity events,’ Craven says with a proud smirk. ‘She r . . . r . . . raises millions for excellent causes.’

Oh crap! That sounds like a shitload of laughs.

‘Surely you want more?’ I venture.

‘More than what?’ he says with a slight frown.

‘More than just being your mom’s errand boy.’

I’ve offended him. He throws me a hurt look and clams up.

‘I know what
I
want,’ I announce. ‘I plan on following in
my
father’s footsteps. Gino builds amazing hotels, and one day I’m doing the same.’

‘You’ll need plenty of money for that.’

‘I can raise it,’ I say confidently. ‘I’ll put together a bunch of investors who will definitely share my vision. It’s not that difficult.’

‘Mother says that women shouldn’t work unless it’s for a good cause.’

I raise a caustic eyebrow. Is he kidding me? ‘That’s a very antiquated point of view,’ I say sharply. ‘Kinda dumb actually.’

‘It’s the way the world is,’ Craven replies, a smug look on his face.

No stutter when he’s sure of what he’s saying. Interesting.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I venture.

‘Go right ahead,’ he says, his expression still smug.

‘Why exactly are you doing this?’

My question throws him.

‘Doing w . . . w . . . what?’ he stammers.

‘Marrying me, of course.’

He shifts uncomfortably. ‘You’re very pretty,’ he says at last.

‘So is our waitress,’ I point out.

‘Mother th . . . thinks we will be a good match. She
wants
me to be married.’

‘How convenient.’

‘What?’

‘Gino’s desperate to marry me off ’cause he considers me out of his control. I’m interested to find out what kind of deal he made with your parents to throw
you
into the mix?’

Craven manages to look pained. ‘There is no deal. Mother s . . . s . . . says we will grow to love each other. Her only wish is to see me happy.’

‘Hmm . . .’ I murmur.

‘I do like you, Lucky,’ he adds with a sincere nod. ‘You’re very different from other girls.’

‘Have you had a lot of girlfriends?’ I ask curiously, although I think I already know the answer.

He looks down. ‘Not really,’ he mutters.

Oh, big surprise. I’m dying to ask him if he’s ever had sex, but I figure now is not the appropriate time.

We finish our dinner with a chocolate soufflé, quite delicious actually. Then Craven escorts me to the elevator and I receive another chaste kiss on the cheek.

I’m busy thinking what I might get up to later. Maybe roam the streets and soak in the Vegas sights and sounds. It’s a plan.

However, once I get upstairs I note a security guard stationed outside the penthouse.

Dammit!
Gino’s got my number. No escape for me tonight.

Chapter Forty

‘H
ow’d your dinner go?’ Gino asks. We are sitting at the breakfast table on the terrace of his penthouse, the first time I’ve seen him since he announced my upcoming nuptials.

‘OK,’ I reply, flashing my diamond engagement ring in his face. ‘Got this.’

‘He’s a generous kid,’ Gino remarks.

‘Betty Richmond chose it.’

‘She has good taste.’

‘You think?’

‘Craven is a nice boy,’ Gino says, picking up his coffee cup.

Craven is a total mommy’s boy
, I’m dying to shout, but I don’t. I’ve decided to play Gino’s game, because I have a hunch that going along with it is my first step on the road to freedom. Right now I’m a teenager with no rights. Soon I will be a married woman who can do whatever she wants.

‘How well do you know him?’ I ask.

‘Well enough,’ Gino replies.

‘Oh,’ I say, sure that Gino doesn’t know him at all.

‘Got a surprise for you, kiddo,’ Gino says.

Oh, like the arranged marriage isn’t enough of a surprise?

‘What?’ I ask, adding a hopeful – ‘Is it a car, ’cause I really need a car.’

Gino laughs. ‘Is that what you want?’

I nod.

‘So I’ll buy you a car as a wedding present,’ he announces. ‘Deal?’

‘Can I choose it?’ I ask, jumping at the opportunity to get something I really want.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Gino says amiably.

Seems to me that Gino is so pleased that I’m going along with this wedding deal that he’s prepared to give me anything I ask for. Obviously it’s time to take advantage.

‘I’d like a Ferrari,’ I say, going for it big-time. ‘A red one.’

‘Nix on a Ferrari, kiddo,’ Gino says with a chuckle. ‘More like a family car, ’cause before you know it you’ll be raisin’ a family.’

Oh, how well he doesn’t know me
!

A quick switch of subjects. ‘What’s the surprise?’

‘I’ve arranged for Dario to fly in.’

Good news at last! Dario, baby brother, someone I can bond with.

‘When?’ I ask.

‘He’ll be here tomorrow.’

I am excited. I miss my brother so much, and I need to share with him why I’ve decided to go through with this sham. He’ll understand. He always does.