Lovers & Players (20 page)

Outside, the rain continued to pour down.

Talk about losing control–it was not a pleasant feeling.

A
cting as Liberty’s spokesperson, Beverly went to Maleek, the director, and informed him that Liberty required a thousand dollars a day for the two days she’d be working on the video.

‘It’s already set,’ Maleek said. ‘She’s getting
two
thousand a day, Damon’s instructions. The dude is into her.’

‘We need it in writing,’ Beverly replied, trying not to look too surprised that this was all so easy.

‘In writing? Or how about she gets paid cash?’ Maleek suggested. ‘That way she puts it into her pocket an’ walks away.’

‘Cash’ll do nicely,’ Beverly said, thinking that she should’ve asked Liberty for commission. Not seriously, though–Beverly’s latest philosophy was all about giving back, and it was working. She’d met Chet, and he was the first decent man she’d hooked up with in a long time.

When Beverly told Liberty about the money, there was a stunned silence. ‘Two thousand dollars a
day
?’ Liberty said at last. ‘A
day?
Are you
sure
?’

‘Don’t sweat it. They were probably paying Vanessa
plenty
more. Besides,’ Beverly added, teasing her, ‘Damon
likes
you, he really
likes
you.’

‘He does?’ Liberty said, remaining cool.

‘So says Mr Director.’

Liberty didn’t even want to ask what
that
meant. She took off to find Cindi, who was in a complaining mood. ‘Ha!’ Cindi bitched, when she told her. ‘I gotta shimmy around with my
ass
hanging out, shovin’ it in the freakin’ camera, an’ all
you
gotta do is stand there glammed up like some kinda
diva
.’ Cindi stared at her reflection in a full-length mirror. ‘
Sheeit
! This ain’t fair.’

‘You’ll think it’s even less fair when you hear what they’re paying me,’ Liberty said excitedly.

‘More than I’m gettin’?’ Cindi said, narrowing her eyes.

‘Try two thousand a day,’ Liberty said, still in shock that she was about to make such an unbelievable amount of money for basically doing nothing.

‘Man!’ Cindi yelled, jumping up and down. ‘We’re freakin’ richer than freakin’
shit
! We can get ourselves that flat screen TV we bin talkin’ ’bout
forever
. I ain’t even
mindin
’ that you’re gettin’ more than me.’

‘
First
we pay our bills,’ Liberty said, thinking about what a relief
that
would be. ‘Do you
know
how many bills we’ve got piled up that
I
keep on juggling ’cause
you
refuse to deal with them?’

‘That’s ’cause you’re better at it than me,’ Cindi said, adjusting her costume. ‘You’re the smart cookie,
I
’m the booty queen!’

‘That’s
right
,’ Liberty agreed, laughing.

‘You’d better call your mama,’ Cindi said.

‘Why would I do that?’

‘’Cause you should tell her to drop by
my
mom’s tomorrow night. We’ll all celebrate together.’

‘I’m not sure I want to see her,’ Liberty said uncertainly. ‘I
still
don’t get why she couldn’t’ve told me about my dad before. It’s not
fair
she waited all these years.’

‘She probably figured you wouldn’t wanna know you had a
dead
daddy, that it was better for you to grow up with, y’ know, some kinda hope.’

‘Yeah,’ Liberty said bitterly, ‘
false
hope.’

‘Let’s not get into it now,’ Cindi said. ‘There’s too much slammin’ shit goin’ on.’

‘When
am
I supposed to get into it?’ Liberty muttered, almost to herself.

‘What time’s our call tomorrow?’ Cindi asked, quickly changing the subject.

‘Ten. According to Bev, they’re not into starting early in the rap world.’

‘Man, Bev is the coolest,’ Cindi said enthusiastically. ‘She’s gonna fix
my
eyebrows tomorrow. I’m tellin’ you, for sure it’s the eyebrows got you the gig. Just you wait till Damon sees you
now
. He’s gonna dump his old lady an’ the two of you’ll hook up
permanent
. Mrs Damon P. Donnell. Try
that
on for a tight fit. It’s all good, girl.’

‘Zip it, Cindi,’ Liberty said, looking around to make sure no one had heard. ‘Don’t even rag on it. It’s not like I’m thrilled about being The Girl in some dumb rap video. I’m only doing it for the money. All I want is for Damon to get off on my voice.’

‘Sure,’ Cindi drawled sarcastically. ‘
I
believe you.’

By the time Liberty was dressed and ready, it was late. Slick Jimmy was pleased to see her hit the set but, as Beverly was quick to point out, Slick Jimmy was pleased to see anything female. His group of overweight, sexy mamas were feeling the heat: they’d been at it all day, there was only so much booty to be jiggled and they were dragging. They lounged around in various stages of exhaustion, while Jimmy’s CD blared over the loudspeakers.

Lousy lyrics, great beat
, Liberty thought, for the second time, as she stepped in front of Maleek for his approval.

Maleek was not happy with her look, which immediately made her feel insecure. He requested further hair extensions, a more exotic makeup, and he wanted her dress to cling. Instead of shooting her piece, they rehearsed instead.

‘You’ll do your thing tomorrow,’ Maleek decided. ‘Damon wants you perfect an’ so do I.’

Hmm…Damon wanted her perfect.
That
was interesting, especially coming from a man who until today had basically ignored her.

She’d been thinking about Beverly and her offer to set her up with a modelling agent. It sure beat the hell out of pouring coffee, so she thought she might ask her if she was serious, because if it
was
a serious offer, she would
definitely
pursue it.

The time had come to take chances, and she was more than ready.

G
ianna had left a message on Jett’s voicemail that she expected him to meet her at the airport.

Of course she expected him to meet her, Gianna was used to getting everything her way.

He went all out and hired a limo. Might as well pick her up in style.

When Gianna got off the plane, cleared Customs and began striding through Kennedy, clad in thigh-high leopard-print boots and a short, chocolate brown belted Prada raincoat, a couple of random photographers appeared out of nowhere and snapped her picture. They weren’t certain who she was, but they quickly realized she was someone.

As soon as she saw Jett walking towards her, she threw out her arms and shouted ‘
Ciao, carino
. It is so
molto bene
to see my boyfriend.’

All of a sudden he was her boyfriend? Well, yes, of course he was, they lived together, didn’t they?

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, hugging her. ‘You smell great.’

‘No, no, I smell of aeroplane,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Is
disgustoso
, I need a shower.’

‘What hotel am I taking you to?’ he asked, grabbing her Louis Vuitton carry-on bag, which weighed a ton.

‘No hotel,
carino
, I stay with you,’ she said, tossing back her long hair.

This was a surprise, and not a welcome one. How could he pursue a new relationship while Gianna was sharing his bed? ‘Well,’ he said slowly. ‘I kinda didn’t ask Sam if it—’

‘
Prego
!’ she exclaimed. ‘Of
course
Sam invite me.’

‘Sam doesn’t know you,’ Jett pointed out.

‘Ah…but if he did,’ she said, smiling knowingly, ‘you
certain
he invite me.’

She was right, there wasn’t a man in the world who would turn Gianna down.

He had to admit she looked spectacular. Tall and slender, with a mane of auburn hair, cat-like eyes and full, luscious lips. Men were stopping to stare as she sashayed past, like they couldn’t quite believe such a magnificent creature existed, for Gianna’s looks were extremely feral.

‘I’m not sure Sam’s apartment is fancy enough for you,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘There’s hardly any space in the bathroom for your make-up and stuff. Plus there’s no magnifying mirror, and you
know
how you
love
your mirrors.’

‘What I need,
carino
, when I have you?’ she said affectionately. ‘I’ve missed my Yankee boyfriend
molto molto
.’

Yankee boyfriend? It was her new favourite expression. She’d learned it from her grandfather, a Second World War veteran, and Jett hated it.

‘Hey, I’ve missed you too,’ he said, not really meaning it, because the girl whose name he didn’t know was on his mind big-time.

‘Have you been a bad boy?’ Gianna teased.

‘Only as bad as
you
,’ he retaliated.

‘Ha!
Incredibile!
I see only one other guy. Mr Lamborghini. And we like him,
sì?
’

‘How
is
my favourite car?’ he asked, as they made their way through the airport.

‘I put in garage. Is
bene
, huh?’

‘How long you staying?’

‘We shoot photographs. We go home.’

‘Not
we, you
,’ he said quickly. ‘
I
have to stay around for a couple of weeks.’

‘
Perchè?
’ she asked, disappointed.

‘’Cause there’s a few things I gotta take care of before I can leave.’

‘
Che cosa
things?’

‘Family stuff.’

‘You make Gianna
triste
.’

‘Sorry, baby. It can’t be helped.’

In the limo she hugged him again, her tongue snaking its way into his ear. ‘Gianna cannot
wait
to be alone with you,’ she whispered. ‘We make
delizioso amore
all night.’

‘
Later
tonight,’ he corrected. ‘Earlier we’re invited to my brother’s rehearsal dinner.’

‘
Che cosa
rehearsal dinner?’

‘Something people do before they get married.’

‘I thought that was sex,’ she said, her hand descending on–to his thigh.

‘
You
think everything’s sex.’

‘Is
bene,
no?’ she said, with a husky laugh.

‘Not always.’

‘
You
like, you
know
you do,’ she cooed, her hand moving further up. ‘How they say in American? You insatiable–
sì?
’

‘Maybe we should wait until we get to the apartment,’ he said, deftly removing her hand. ‘There’s a driver up front getting his rocks off watching our every move.’

‘So? That is bad?’ she said, snuggling against his shoulder, her tongue once again flicking towards his ear.

And he realized there was no escaping Gianna.

Sunday noon, Nancy Scott-Simon had arranged a major sit-down with Lynda Colefax, the wedding planner. She wished to make sure that all final details were in place since mishaps were not on her agenda.

Wandering around her mother’s dining room, fervently wishing she was somewhere else, Amy listened while the two women droned on about the usual subjects–flowers, seating, guests. It seemed their appetite for wedding trivia was never-ending.

‘Amy, will you kindly concentrate?’ Nancy scolded. ‘Who do you wish to sit at the head table?’

‘Family, Mother.’ She sighed. ‘We’ve been over it a hundred times. Family, Tina and Brad.’

‘What about Sofia Courtenelli and her escort?’ Nancy said. ‘Shouldn’t
they
be at the head table?’

‘I don’t want
them
at the head table, Mother.’

‘Sofia Courtenelli
is
your boss,’ Lynda pointed out, determined to be involved in every single decision. ‘Etiquette dictates—’

‘I still don’t want her at the head table,’ Amy interrupted, wishing Lynda would butt out of stuff that was none of her business.

‘Max has
still
not told me if his father will be attending,’ Nancy said irritably. ‘It’s appallingly bad manners.’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Lynda.

‘I think he
will
be coming,’ Amy offered. ‘He was at Max’s bachelor party. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’

‘It’s not that I
care
whether he comes or not,’ Nancy said snippily. ‘It’s simply so
rude
not to reply. I should call Lady Bentley and ask her myself.’

‘Allow me to take care of it,’ said Lynda, jotting a reminder onto a large Gucci writing pad.

‘No,’ Nancy responded. ‘It’s something
I
should deal with personally.’

An hour later, Amy was thrilled to get out of there. The wedding plans were making her dizzy. What a ridiculous fuss about one day.

She hailed a cab, and was just about to give the driver her address, when she made a spur-of-the-moment decision and instead gave him the address of her mystery man–an address that was, somehow or other, embedded in her brain.

Not that she planned on ringing his bell: she just thought she might take another look at the building where she’d spent the night and lost her virginity.

Why not? She had nothing else to do.

Lady Jane continued putting her time alone to good use. If Red Diamond wished to treat her as if she was dispensable, she would do whatever it took to protect herself.

On Saturday night he did not come home, so on Sunday she resumed her investigation of his private domain, printing out several e-mails from Red to Roth Giagante at the Magiriano Hotel in Las Vegas requesting that he pressure Chris to pay his debt, and other e-mails from the two banks Red had forced to withdraw from Max’s building project.

She discovered nothing new about Jett, except a detailed report from the rehab clinic in Italy.

For a fleeting moment she felt sorry for the three young men. Having Red as a father must have been a hideous experience. And yet they’d all managed to survive and do well. At least, two of them had–who knew how Jett had turned out?

She had no idea why Red had summoned them to a meeting on Monday morning. He was probably going to inform them they were inheriting nothing, and because he was Red Diamond, he wanted to tell them personally. That way he could watch them cringe.

Red Diamond was exactly what everyone said he was. A true bastard.

Max decided there was no way in hell he was giving Mariska blood money to get rid of Vladimir Bushkin. If she swore to him that the marriage papers were fake, then he
would
take it up with the authorities and have Vladimir deported. Yes, that was what he’d do and, by God, she’d better not be lying.

He went over to her apartment on Sunday morning. Irena, her personal maid, opened the door and let him in. ‘Is she around?’ he asked.

‘I get her,’ Irena muttered.

A few minutes later Mariska came into the living room. She seemed unusually pleasant, and since this was not a happy occasion, he knew she must be up to something. ‘Do you have the money?’ was the first thing she asked.

‘I never agreed to bring money,’ he answered.

‘Yes, you
did
,’ she said, the good mood fast slipping away.

‘No, I
didn’t
,’ he said sharply. ‘Where’s Lulu?’ he added. He didn’t want his little daughter overhearing their conversation.

‘Out with her nanny.’

‘Let me explain why I’m here,’ he said, trying to keep his temper under control. ‘The next time Vladimir comes to my office, I’m calling in detectives and having him arrested for extortion.’

‘You
cannot
do that,’ Mariska argued, her demeanour turning positively icy.

‘I
can
and I
will
,’ Max said. ‘So, Mariska, understand that if you have anything to tell me, you should do it now.’

‘I can’t believe you did not bring the money,’ she said, her face sulky. ‘You are so
stupid
. Things are already in motion.’

‘What
things
are in motion?’ he asked, alarmed that she might have done something foolish.

‘I need that cash. I have people to pay.’

‘For
what
?’

‘Stop acting so innocent, Max. You
know
what.’

‘No, Mariska,’ he said harshly. ‘Whatever you’ve arranged, you must put a stop to it immediately.’

‘It’s too late.’

‘It had better not be.’

They stared at each other for a long moment, both busy with their own thoughts.

Finally Max broke the silence. ‘For God’s sake, Mariska,
were
you married to Vladimir or not? I need to know the truth.’

‘You want the truth–I tell the truth,’ she said, practically spitting at him.

‘Go ahead,’ he said, dreading what he was about to hear.

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘I
was
married to Vladimir. Does that make you happy?’

Max felt his heart sink, furious that she’d just confirmed his worst fears. How could he have been married to this lying, conniving
bitch
?

‘I came from poor family,’ Mariska continued. ‘Moscow was hell-hole, I had to get out somehow.’

‘While we’re on a truth kick, Mariska, were you working as a prostitute too?’

‘No!’ she said, glaring at him. ‘How dare you
think
that?’

‘Why shouldn’t I? You’ve lied about everything else.’

‘You must understand, Max, there was no
choice
for a beautiful woman other than to prostitute herself, but I
never did that
. When Vladimir tried to force me to do certain things, I managed to escape, and came to America.’

‘So you and Vladimir were never divorced?’

‘If he’d suspected I was leaving—’

‘This means that when you married the accountant, then
me
, both marriages were false? You committed bigamy?’

‘Surely you now realize why we
must
get rid of him,’ she said bitterly.

‘Jesus
Christ
, Mariska, why couldn’t you have been truthful with me before?’

‘You left me, Max,’ she said accusingly. ‘You left me alone.’

‘I did
not
leave you alone, I left you with a large financial settlement
and
the pleasure of our child.’

‘I will
never
forgive you for leaving me,’ she said, eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Now you’re marrying this stupid girl. Everyone is laughing at you.’

‘You really
are
a piece of work,’ he said, still trying to control his temper, because all he wanted to do was slap her until she cried out for mercy. He would
never
forgive her for what she’d done to Lulu.
Never
.

‘Everywhere there are rumours,’ she continued. ‘I hear you are in financial trouble. How you think that makes
me
look?’

‘That’s all you’re interested in, isn’t it?’ he said wearily. ‘The way
you
look.’

‘Appearances are important.’

‘
You
want to talk about appearances. Did you ever think about me and Lulu? Our marriage was a sham, and you
know
what that makes Lulu.’