Lovers & Players (49 page)

L
ady Jane Bentley was the first to arrive in the library. It was a magnificent room with its dark wood floor-to-ceiling bookcases, stiff leather couches and rare Persian rugs.

She ran her fingers across the mantel, picking up a residue of dust. Damned maids, they did nothing. During her time with Red he’d never allowed her to fire any of them, claiming that terminating staff was
his
privilege. He hired and fired on a whim, savouring every moment.

Now she knew why he’d kept that insolent housekeeper around. Diahann. Mother of his illegitimate child–a child she’d never even heard of until she’d discovered the revealing letter tucked into his safe.

It was a lawyer’s letter, very clear and to the point. It stated that although Red Diamond had fathered Diahann’s daughter, Diahann would never reveal this publicly or tell her daughter, Liberty, who her father was. Diahann also relinquished any claims on his estate, and in return she would receive a one-time payment of five hundred and fifty thousand dollars–paid out
after
he died–plus a lifetime job in his employ with her own apartment in the basement of his house. The letter was signed by Diahann and two independent witnesses.

Now why,
Lady Jane thought,
would anyone sign a letter like that
? The woman had given birth to Red Diamond’s baby–with a good lawyer she could probably have had anything she wanted. It was inexplicable. Was Diahann
that
dense?

Probably. Dense and uneducated with no self-respect, otherwise she would
never
have signed such a letter. Anyway, it was about time the boys knew the truth, and today Lady Jane decided she would take great pleasure in telling them that they had a sister.

Red would be livid. She didn’t care. As soon as her attorney informed her that her settlement was agreed, she was out of there. Only why not cause a little trouble first? Since Red had invited her to attend this meeting, she may as well make the most of it.

Her attorney had warned her not to go. ‘The less you have to do with him, the stronger our position,’ he’d said. ‘You have nothing to gain.’

But how could she resist seeing Red’s crusty old face when she told his sons something she knew he never wanted them to find out?

She had dressed appropriately for the occasion. Hair swept up. Chanel suit. Gucci shoes. Two rows of perfect pearls. Discreet diamond and pearl earrings. Cartier diamond watch.

She’d spent the early part of the morning thumbing through some brochures of available properties. There was a Park Avenue penthouse that sounded perfect for entertaining–she’d made up her mind that, once she’d got out of this mausoleum, she was giving plenty of chic, exclusive dinner parties. Then again, there was a pre-war masterpiece on Sutton Place that reeked of elegant charm.

She had plenty of time to decide, and in the meantime she’d take a suite at the St Regis until she made up her mind. After all, she was destined to be a rich woman. Very rich indeed.

‘Why are you going to a meeting with your father–a man who has never done anything for you?’ Amy had asked Jett early in the morning. ‘Isn’t it time you gave up hoping for any kind of relationship?’

He’d shrugged. She couldn’t possibly understand. Nobody could. It was complicated.

‘I’m going ’cause my brothers want me to,’ he’d replied, sitting at the breakfast counter, staring at Amy, who was probably the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. And it wasn’t just her physical attributes, there was something else about her, a sweetness, a sense of goodness. He was crazy in love–and this was a first.

‘I doubt that Max does,’ she’d said.

‘This’ll be the last time I go there.’

She’d nodded. He’d known she’d want to talk about it later, that was Amy’s way.

In the meantime he’d showered, dressed, and set off for the meeting that should’ve taken place the previous week.

Why
was
he going? That was a good question. Max probably wasn’t speaking to him–and he couldn’t blame his brother for that. Chris, a true Libra, would refuse to take sides.

Still…it was a family meeting, and Jett knew he was entitled to be there.

Later he’d made up his mind to call Beverly and ask her to set him up with a New York modelling agency. Even though he was a star in Italy, he didn’t care to walk in anywhere cold. And since Beverly knew everyone, she could easily arrange an introduction and steer him to the best.

He considered this to be of the utmost importance. There was no way he was living off Amy so it was essential that he got his career off the ground in America. The Courtenelli campaign was a brilliant start. Once the ads started appearing in all the American magazines, everything should fall into place.

And when he started making money, he was already thinking of asking Amy to marry him.

Kind of a scary thought, but at the same time he knew it was what he wanted. Finally. A settled life.

After Jett had left her apartment, Amy ran around cleaning up. She was singing, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she tackled her bed, shaking out the duvet and plumping up the pillows. Jett was it for her. Somehow or other they just clicked. In bed. Out of bed. She was in love, no doubt about it.

Then she remembered her mother’s phone call, and figured she’d better take a look at the tabloids that had so upset Nancy. Best to get that little task dealt with before she went to work.

She slipped on jeans and a T-shirt, then ran downstairs to the news vendor on the corner, where she picked up all the offending magazines.

Once home, she set them out on the kitchen counter and studied the coverage. Her mother was right: it was awful–scurrilous gossip of the worst kind. And the photos were horrendous–especially the ones of Jett stoned out of his head with various girls in major states of undress.

She found it hard to understand why they were dragging Jett into this. He had had nothing to do with his brother’s murdered wife. It simply wasn’t fair.

Oh, God! Wait until Nancy found out that she’d switched brothers and was now with Jett. Oh, Lordy, there’d be raised voices in the Scott-Simon household.

Too bad. It was about time she stood up to her mother, and in the future that was exactly what she intended to do.

The traffic was backed up, so Chris decided to walk to Red’s house from the hotel. He’d thought about calling Jett on his cell, then reconsidered.
Do I really want to get in the middle of my two brothers?
he’d thought.
It’s their fight. Let them work it out
.

On the way he made a few calls. First, Lola Sanchez, his Latina diva–whom he talked out of suing, explaining that going after a cheap-shot paparazzo was a big waste of time and money. Next he called Gregory Dark and assured him he would do his best to secure him another couple of points on his studio deal. He didn’t call Birdy Marvel because it was too early in L.A. But he did call Jonathan Goode, who was in Paris with his new girlfriend/fiancée–an
ingénue
actress of eighteen.

‘This is crazy,’ Chris informed him. ‘Too fast.’

‘I’m in love, man,’ Jonathan enthused. ‘This girl is amazing!’

‘Does this mean I’m to get to work on the pre-nup?’

‘I don’t want to insult her.’

Sure,
Chris thought.
When she discovers you’re gay, she won’t be at all insulted.
‘Hold off until she signs,’ he advised. ‘I’ll have the papers to you first thing tomorrow.’

Verona was next on his list. She was cool and crisp as he explained why he hadn’t called, blaming it on family problems, which was basically true. ‘How about meeting me at the airport? Then we’ll stop by Koi’s and grab a bite,’ he suggested, the old Chris Diamond charm going full force.

‘I met a friend of yours,’ Verona said, her tone quite icy.

‘You did? Who was it?’

‘Inez Fallon.’

Oh,
shit
! Inez. The actress from the plane with whom he’d shared one night of energetic sex. ‘Ah, yes, Inez,’ he said, hoping Inez hadn’t shot her mouth off. ‘Nice girl.’

‘She liked you too,’ Verona said, her tone getting even colder. ‘Informed me you were a stud in bed, and she’s expecting you to call her soon.’

Busted! What kind of luck was
that?
‘Look,’ he explained. ‘You and I, we were kind of on the outs, right?’

‘Wrong.’ A long meaningful beat. ‘So, Chris, here’s what I suggest. Go fuck yourself.’ And Verona clicked off, leaving him without a girlfriend.

Damn. He’d been quite looking forward to Verona’s professional back-rubs and somewhat Zen blow-jobs. Plus he’d had her pegged to organize the redecorating of his house. Too bad.

Finally, standing outside Red’s house, he called his assistant, Andy, at home.

‘Should I give you yesterday’s phone list?’ Andy asked. ‘It’s long.’

‘E-mail me. I’ll go over it on the plane.’

‘A woman called Gianna phoned from Italy. She said she’s coming to L.A. and wants to get together.’

‘Gianna, huh?’ Chris said, flashing onto the extremely beautiful Gianna. Hmm…Things were looking up. He wasn’t usually into sloppy seconds, but since Jett had definitely moved on…‘Did she leave a number?’ he asked.

‘She did.’

‘E-mail it to me first.’

‘Right away.’

‘How’s my house?’

‘They’ve started work on it.’

‘Thanks, Andy.’ He glanced up. Jett was approaching ‘Gotta go. See you later.’

Sonja was lurking in the underground parking garage of Max’s apartment building when he emerged from the basement elevator on his way to Red’s house.

Earlier she’d observed all the press and camera crews outside the front, and she’d figured that when he left his apartment it would be via the garage. So she’d made her way down there, charming her way past the security guard with a smile. Sonja had learned at a very early age that a seductive smile could get her anywhere she wanted.

She hung around somewhere between Max’s car and the elevator, waiting patiently. If Red Diamond didn’t want to pay, she was sure Max Diamond would. He had a child to protect. He would not relish the information she had about Mariska being made public.

When he emerged, she was ready. ‘Mr Diamond,’ she said, boldly approaching him.

‘Who are you?’ he said shortly. He’d just come off the phone with Elliott Minor, who’d informed him that Detective Rodriguez had new evidence concerning Mariska’s murder and was close to making an arrest. This was surprising and startling news. Although not
that
startling, because once he’d told the detective about Vladimir, he’d known
something
would happen.

‘He’d like to contact you when an arrest takes place,’ Elliott said. ‘Where will you be?’

‘I’m on my way to my father’s house.’

‘We’ll stay in touch,’ Elliott said.

‘That’s fine,’ Max said.

‘I’m sorry about the tabloids,’ Elliott added. ‘We can sue the bastards if you give me the word.’

Max had no idea what Elliott was talking about. He hadn’t seen the tabloids and he didn’t intend to.

‘I am an acquaintance of your father’s,’ Sonja said. ‘He suggested you might have interest in certain…information.’

Now why would Red be sending this woman to see
him
? ‘About what?’ Max said, frowning.

‘About your wife.’

‘My wife?’ he said, thinking how like Mariska this woman sounded.

‘Your wife that is deceased.’

‘Who
are
you?’

‘I am Sonja. I know your brother also.’

She looked vaguely familiar. Long, flaming-red hair, statuesque body. He’d seen her
somewhere
before. Then it came to him. The girl-on-girl show at his bachelor party. Jesus
Christ
! What the hell did
she
want?

‘We must talk,’ Sonja said.

‘Not now,’ he said brusquely. ‘I’m on my way to a meeting.’

‘It is urgent,’ Sonja said, licking her lips.

‘It’ll have to wait.’

‘Until when?’

Max’s patience was wearing thin. ‘Look, Miss,’ he said sharply, ‘what is it that you want?’

‘Five hundred thousand dollars for my silence regarding Mariska’s marriage to a Russian man. They were never divorced. I have proof of their marriage. Money for silence. Is good American business, yes?’

First Vladimir, now
this
woman. Well, she was too late because he didn’t care anymore. Soon Vladimir would be arrested, and the world would know how he’d been duped by Mariska. So be it. He’d protect Lulu as best he could. That was all he could do.

He headed for his car. She followed close behind.

He stopped for a moment, swung his head round. ‘Did Vladimir send you?’

She was startled that he knew Vladimir’s name.

‘Well,’ Max demanded, ‘
did
he?’

‘You–you know about Vladimir?’

‘Get out of here before I report you to the police,’ he said sharply. ‘Blackmail is a Federal offence. You could go to jail. So get the hell out of my way.’

Sonja was stunned. What was
wrong
with the Diamond family? They had plenty of money, why didn’t they pay?

Now it was her turn to frown. She would go to the newspapers, that was what she’d do. She would sell their dirty secrets for a lot more than five hundred thousand. And not only would she sell their secrets, but she’d embellish–add plenty of sex. After all, she’d fucked the father
and
the son. That should be worth plenty.

Red Diamond–billionaire sex pervert. Chris Diamond…Hmm, he’d not been into any freak scenes. She’d have to make something up.

Perhaps like father like son…