Poor Little Bitch Girl (26 page)

“Who’s Rick Fox?” Annabelle asked blankly.

“Who’s Rick Fox!” Frankie chortled. “A former Lakers great! Everyone knows who Rick Fox is. He used t’be married to Vanessa Williams, a total babe.”

Just as Annabelle was about to ask who Vanessa Williams was – and I would’ve explained because I’m a huge
Ugly Betty
fan – the limo pulled up and we all piled in.

Ten minutes later we arrived at the house, and a stony-faced Ralph Maestro greeted us at the door to his imposing mansion. He gave me a brief nod, shook Frankie’s hand, and leaned forward to honor Annabelle with an awkward hug. No words were exchanged as we followed him into the house.

I glanced at Annabelle. Her perfectly made-up face gave nothing away.

Ralph led us into the enormous living room, dominated by a huge portrait of himself and Gemma hanging over the mantelpiece, a fake logfire burned brightly, and a waiter hovered behind an exceptionally long bar.

“Order your drinks,” Ralph said in a strained voice. “Have whatever you want.”

I noted his tan had faded since last we met. Perhaps visiting a tanning salon was not the best idea during these difficult times. But surely Ralph had people who came to him?

While I was pondering the disappearing tan, Annabelle requested a Martini, and Frankie went for a Jack on the rocks. Frankie was obviously under the impression that Jack (note: Jack as opposed to Jack Daniel’s) was
the
hot Hollywood drink. And it seemed he was right, because Ralph ordered the same thing.

I opted for a glass of white wine. Wimpy drink, but at least I could make it last while everyone around me got wasted. And getting wasted was definitely on the agenda, for Annabelle downed her Martini in three fast gulps, then immediately requested a second one.

Oh wow! Here we go. Hold on tight, ’cause I’ve got a strong suspicion it’s going to be a bumpy night.

* * *

Imagine being at a dinner where it is quite apparent that everyone hates everyone else, but for the sake of appearances, politeness rules.

One would think Ralph was hosting a dinner for several avid fans who’d won an evening to be spent with the great Ralph Maestro. He was stiff, uncomfortable and distant.

Frankie on the other hand did not shut up. On his usual coke-fueled high (oh yes, it hadn’t taken me long to figure out his numerous visits to the bathroom were not to pee) he carried on about the hotel, the city, the weather, and what an honor it was to finally meet the amazing Ralph Maestro.

“I’ve seen every movie you ever made,” Frankie enthused, eliciting a glare from Annabelle, who’d had no idea he was such a fan. “
Brain-dead
,
The Great American Train Wreck
,
Jolt
,
Finding Mr Lee
. I grew up watchin’ your movies. You and Bruce Willis, you guys kicked it like nobody else.”

I had a strong feeling that Ralph had been prepared to dislike Annabelle’s boyfriend, but the accolades were coming so fast and furious, that Ralph’s enormous ego couldn’t resist. He nodded, accepting the praise as if it was his due.

Annabelle and I listened in stunned silence as Frankie proceeded to talk about every one of Ralph’s many movies in detail.

After a while it seemed Annabelle couldn’t take it any longer. “Excuse us,” she said, standing up and throwing me a pointed look. “We’ll be right back.”

Hmm . . . I guess that means I’m going with her, leaving Frankie to shove his nose all the way up Ralph’s ass – an act he’s obviously enjoying.

Annabelle led me into an ornate guest powder-room decorated in over-the-top shades of turquoise and gold. “I’m in dire need of a cigarette,” she muttered, groping in her Balenciaga purse for a pack of Marlboros. “Isn’t this torture?”

“I imagine your dad is still in shock,” I said lamely. “Besides, Frankie is kind of monopolizing the conversation.”

“Frankie can be such a dick,” Annabelle said, dismissing her boyfriend with an abrupt wave of her hand. “Who knew he worshipped Ralph? I certainly didn’t.”

“You had no clue?”

“Nothing. Nada. We never even talked about my family, and now this show of adulation. Quite frankly, I’m pissed.”

“Don’t blame you.”

“Oh, Denver,” Annabelle said, suddenly clutching onto my arm. “I’m so grateful you’re here. I honestly couldn’t go through this if you weren’t around to support me.”

“That’s nonsense,” I said, swallowing fast. “You’d be fine.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would,” I insisted. What was going on here? Why was I all of a sudden Miss Indispensable?

“Anyway,” Annabelle continued, “you
are
here, and as long as we stay together I’ll be able to cope. The funeral’s on Thursday, and right after I want to be on a plane back to New York. Can you arrange it?”

Crap! So add travel agent to my job description.

Back at the dining table Frankie was quoting lines from
Brain-dead
, and Ralph was finally looking bored. Ignoring Frankie who was in full quote, Ralph fixed Annabelle with one of his steely stares and said, “I expect you to go through your mother’s things while you’re here. The housekeepers will help you. Be sure you watch that they don’t try to take anything.”

“You want
me
to do it?” Annabelle said, not at all happy at the prospect.

“
Yes
, you,” Ralph said sharply. “There’s nobody else that’s family, therefore it’s your responsibility. Be here at ten in the morning.”

“But—”

“Annabelle,” Ralph said, his voice ice cold. “You’re her daughter. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“I don’t think so,” Annabelle mumbled.

“Well, I do,” Ralph said, big movie-star face staring her down.

End of discussion.

We finally got out of there at nine-thirty.

“Time to party,” Frankie said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of a wild Hollywood night. “Where’s
the
place to hang?”

I had definitely had enough of Frankie Romano for one night. “Beats me,” I said with a quick shrug. “I’m going home to bed.”

“No way!” Frankie exclaimed. “We’re hittin’ it tonight. I gotta know what’s goin’ on in this town. Gotta catch the vibe.”

“Sorry,” I said – not sorry at all. “You’re on your own.”

“Yes,” Annabelle said, agreeing with me. “You’re on your own, Frankie. After dinner and all that tension, I’m exhausted.”

“Jesus Christ!” Frankie complained. “What’s
wrong
with you two?”

“The driver will steer you in the right direction,” I offered. “Right after he’s dropped us at the hotel where I’ll pick up my car, and Annabelle can go get a good night’s sleep.”

“What are both of you – fifty?” Frankie sneered.

“Twenty-five actually,” I said, loathing him more every minute. “But don’t sweat it, I’m sure you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

Annabelle stifled a giggle. It wasn’t often Frankie didn’t get his own way.

Back at the hotel, Annabelle and I scooted out of the limo, and Frankie took off to go God knew where.

Annabelle didn’t seem to mind. “You’re right, he can look after himself,” she said. “I’ll see you in the morning, Denver.”

“You will?”

“Ten o’clock. We’ll drive over to the house together and deal with my mother’s things.”

“Look, Annabelle,” I said, feeling quite awkward. “I’d really like to help you out, but here’s the thing – I have to be at my office tomorrow. I’m way behind on everything. Got a thousand things to take care of.”

“Not to worry,” Annabelle said with an airy wave of her hand. “I’ll have Ralph fix it with your boss. Just remember this – while I’m in L.A., you’re all mine.”

Talk about getting caught in a trap. It seemed I had no choice in the matter.

T
uesday morning, Carolyn awoke early. She was too revved up to sleep. Gregory had promised her a surprise, and the thought of what it might be was driving her crazy. She was sure it was something she’d like, something to do with their future together, something amazing.

Humming softly to herself she decided she had time to go for a run before work. Slipping into a pale-blue tracksuit and Puma sneakers, she left her apartment and bumped straight into Kerri.

“Am I glad to see you!” Kerri exclaimed. “Got a big favor to ask.”

“Ask away,” Carolyn replied.

“Well, you know how I always pick up Nellie’s meds once a month.”

“I know you do, and she really appreciates it. It’s so thoughtful of you.”

Kerri gave a modest shrug. “Guess it’s my twelve good deeds for the year. But here comes the favor. I can’t do it today – got a way hot date, an’ he’s meeting me from work. So since Nellie is out of her sleeping pills
and
her heart meds, can you pick them up for me an’ drop them off at her apartment?”

“Of course I can,” Carolyn said. “No problem.”

“Everything’s pre-paid,” Kerri explained. “I gave the prescriptions to the pharmacy yesterday, they’ll be ready after five.”

“Done,” Carolyn said.

“You’re such a doll,” Kerri said, leaning forward and giving her a quick hug.

“We should take turns doing it anyway.”

“I’m down with that.”

“I should’ve thought of it before.”

“Hey, you’re doin’ your bit, always lookin’ in on the old dear, makin’ sure she’s breathin’.”

“We both do what we can.”

“How about an early breakfast tomorrow?” Kerri suggested. “I can give you all the filthy details from what I hope is gonna be a night of crazy mad lust!”

“Sounds good,” Carolyn said. Then she couldn’t help adding, “I might have some exciting news of my own.”

“Awesome!” Kerri said. “Are you seein’ someone?”

“I could be . . .” Carolyn replied, almost tempted to spill everything.

“That’s my girl. You can tell me all about him tomorrow. Same time, same place. My treat.”

Carolyn nodded. “Make sure to take note of every single detail.”

“Oh, I will,” Kerri said, beaming. “Doncha you worry ’bout
that
!”

* * *

Later in the day, Carolyn breezed into Muriel’s office and said, “I’m leaving early today.”

“Why is that?” Muriel inquired, tightly wound as she sat ramrod straight behind her desk.

“The Senator knows,” Carolyn continued. “I mentioned it to him last week.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“Does he tell you everything?”

“Where are you going?” Muriel asked, tapping her pen on her desk-top.

None of your business
, Carolyn was tempted to say. But she didn’t, she remained cool.

“Dentist,” she said shortly.

“In the middle of the day?”

Carolyn shrugged. “The Senator said it was okay, and since it seems he’s not coming in again, my timing appears to be right on.”

“Personal appointments are supposed to take place after office hours,” Muriel said primly. “Surely you’re aware of that?”

“Yes, I am aware of it,” Carolyn replied. “But exceptions happen.”

“For
some
people,” Muriel sniffed disapprovingly.

Carolyn couldn’t help going for the comment she knew would get to Muriel. “Well,” she said, “I guess I’m
some
people. See you later, Muriel.”

Escaping from the office without further interrogation, she made her way down to the underground parking lot. Things were about to change, it was exciting and she couldn’t wait.

She got into her 2006 Pontiac and sat quietly for a few moments contemplating her future. She was filled with all kinds of anticipation. Gregory
had
been mysterious, but extremely firm. He’d said he had a surprise for her. What could it possibly be?

When they’d spoken on the phone the previous day he’d given her strict instructions and told her to follow them without question. “Do not tell anyone anything,” he’d warned. “If you do, it will ruin everything.”