Poor Little Bitch Girl (30 page)

Or would he? Knowing Gregory, he might be too cagey to do so – he was always so worried about his precious reputation.

But if her car was still outside the abandoned gas station, then Gregory would know for sure that something was wrong, and of course he’d report it; his conscience would force him to do so.

But what if whoever had her locked in the trunk of their car had stolen her Pontiac and driven it off? Then how would Gregory know she’d been taken?

Tears filled her eyes and began slowly sliding down her cheeks.

How would Gregory know?
That was the question.

And who would rescue her?

S
urveying the club location at The Keys with M.J. and Lucky, Bobby experienced a full-on flash of triumph. Finally he would be taking the place over, changing the name to
Mood
, and creating the most successful late-night venue in Vegas. It was something he’d dreamed of doing ever since Lucky had built The Keys. He’d always nagged her about allowing him to get the club concession, but she’d resisted, saying he had to prove he could do it first. Well, he’d sure as hell proved it. After being open for almost three years,
Mood
in New York was raking in big bucks, and soon he’d be making a deal to open
Mood
in Miami, and now he had Vegas to look forward to.

“Y’know we’re gonna be making major changes,” he informed Lucky.

“Wow,” she drawled. “I’m
so
surprised.”

“You want our stamp on it, don’t you?” he said, noting that his mom never changed. With her long dark curls, deep olive skin, and blacker-than-night eyes she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And the smartest.

“That’s why I called you, Bobby.”

“No,” he argued. “You called me because I’m the only one you can trust not to set up my own deal on your premises.”

“Hardly true,” Lucky objected. “There are plenty of reputable club-owners I could’ve brought in. Rande Gerber, Brent Bolthouse—”

“Keep going, Mom,” he said confidently. “You
know
you need me.”

“I do?”

“Yeah – say it,” he urged. “Go on – say it.”

“I need you!” Lucky said in a mock-dramatic fashion. “You too, M.J.”

“Thanks, Mrs Gol—”

“Lucky.”

“Uh, thanks, Lucky,” M.J. muttered. Bobby’s incredible mom always managed to make him feel like a kid again.

“Do you realize, M.J., that I’ve known you and your family since you were twelve?” Lucky said, smiling at M.J. “Your father looked after Gino when he had that aneurism problem. And your mom is
the
most delightful woman.”

“Yeah, an’ I bet you didn’t know that M.J.’s
still
got a crush on you,” Bobby quipped. “Only now he has a girlfriend, so I gotta hunch you’re probably safe.”

“Who wants to be safe?” Lucky teased, mildly flirting.

M.J. glared at Bobby; he was beyond embarrassed. “Whyn’t you tell your mom who’s got a thing for
you
?” he said, frowning.

“And who would that be?” Lucky asked, faintly amused.

“Zeena,” M.J. blurted. “She’s got the hots for Bobby, big-time.”

Bobby threw M.J. a dirty look. “Bullshit,” he said.

“That’s quite a coincidence,” Lucky said, “because tomorrow night we’re seeing her show. I hear it’s amazing, so I got us all tickets.”

“Never mind about Zeena’s show,” Bobby said, determined to get off the subject of the predatory superstar. “Aren’t you interested in hearing what
kind
of changes I’m gonna make?”

“I have a strong suspicion I can guess,” Lucky said, smiling. “But go ahead – tell me anyway.”

Bobby launched into his plans for
Mood
in Vegas. He had many ideas, and the first order of business was to do away with the illuminated staircase, the indoor fountains and expensive art. His plan was to create a replica of
Mood
in New York. “It’s gotta have a cooler, more laid-back vibe,” he insisted. “Right now it’s screaming Vegas.”

“Business has always been good,” Lucky pointed out. “Getting people into the club was never the problem.”

“It’s not about how much money you rake in,” Bobby insisted. “It’s more about the crowd.”

“And the crowd should be?” Lucky questioned.

“No tourists – unless they’re young an’ way hot. No fat asses. Like I told you when you first opened – you gotta make the club a happening place for the locals to hang after they get off work. So . . . sexy girls in sexy outfits. Rich dudes with their Ferraris and Bentleys parked outside. Visiting celebs. Everyone with a cool attitude.
That’s
the vibe we’ll be going for.”

“Okay, guys,” Lucky said, readily agreeing. “I think I get the picture.”

“You do?” Bobby said, surprised that she wasn’t putting up a fight about the changes he intended to make.

“Sure I do, so how about we go work out a deal? Then we can relax and have some fun.”

Bobby grinned. “You got
my
attention.”

* * *

Later it was his half-sister, Max, who really got his attention. She came to his room at The Keys, surprising him, hammered on the door and burst inside.

He hadn’t seen Max in a few months, and at the age of seventeen she’d blossomed into a total beauty – but she still hadn’t lost her wild streak. Max was the mirror-image of Lucky at the same age. Tall and lithe with a mass of unruly black curls, sun-burnished olive skin, full lips and plenty of attitude. The only difference was their eyes. Lucky’s were dark and intense, Max’s were a brilliant emerald-green.

The moment he opened the door, she threw herself at him, wrapping her long legs around his waist and hugging him tight.

“Whoa!” he said, laughing as he attempted to disentangle himself. “Not appropriate, you’re way too old.”

“Ha!” Max exploded with a wild giggle. “I flew here for the day just to see you. The least I expect is a decent greeting.”

“Brat!” he said affectionately.

“Womanizer!” she responded, green eyes sparkling. “You’re like
so
totally lame, Bobby. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I had to hear it from Mom. So I jumped on a plane, an’ here I am.”

“Nice to see you too,” he said, still laughing.

“But I love you anyway, big bro,” she added with an infectious grin.

“You love me, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Nice to know.”

“And you love me, right?”

“Sometimes,” he teased. “When you’re not pissing me off.”

“C’mon, Bobby,” she said, mock-frowning. “Stop jerking me around.”

“Who’s jerking you around?”

“You! You! You!” she yelled.

“Calm down.”

“Where’s M.J.?” she asked, switching moods and opening the mini-bar. “I’m supposed to haul his rockin’ ass back to L.A.”

“An’ why’s that?”

“’Cause my b.f.f., Cookie, is desperado to jump his sexy bones.”

“Your friend Cookie is way too young to jump anyone’s bones.”

“Pul-
ease
!” Max said, rolling her eyes. “What century were
you
born?”

“S’great to see you too, kiddo,” Bobby said, grinning. “Still with the same smart mouth.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re beginning to sound like Grandfather Gino?” she offered, extracting a packet of M&Ms from the mini-bar.

“An’ that’s a bad thing?”

“Here’s the deal Bobby,” she sighed, stuffing a handful of M&Ms into her mouth. “I think it’s way time I came to New York an’ moved in with you. Cool plan?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not a plan at all.”

“Why?” she demanded. “You just announced that you loved me. And I’d behave myself. Honestly, Bobby – you can do your thing an’ I’ll do mine.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Does that mean I have your permission?”

“Ha! Ha!
Please
, Bobby?”

“Sorry. The answer is no.”

“Why? Why? Why?”

“’Cause you’ve got to go to college,” he lectured. “You know that’s what Lucky and Lennie are expecting you to do.”

“Not gonna do that,” she said stubbornly.

“And your reason is?”

“’Cause Mom didn’t go, an’ then you went for two minutes an’ like immediately dropped out. So why have
I
gotta suffer? It’s not fair.”

“A proper education means a lot, Max.”

“Crap!” she muttered, flinging herself down on the couch, long bronzed legs stretched out in the shortest of skirts.

“No,” he said crisply. “Fact of life.”

“Man!” she complained. “You’re getting as lame as Mom. I guess I’ll havta take off on my own with no help from you.”

“And go where?”

“You’ll see,” she said airily. “No college for this girl. I crave adventure with a capital A. And for your information, nobody – an’ I mean
nobody
– can stop me.”

Bobby shook his head. He felt sorry for Lucky and Lennie – they had big trouble on their hands.

“What kind of adventures did you have in mind?” he asked.

“Oh, y’know,” she answered vaguely. “Screwing a lot of guys – my choice. Kind of living on the edge.”

“The edge of
what
?” he asked, trying not to laugh.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” she said, throwing him a dirty look. “I’m my own person, I’m not Lucky’s little girl or your baby sister or Lennie Golden’s kid. I’m
me
.”

“Nobody’s arguing with
that
sentiment.”

“Cool, ’cause I’m totally unique, and I plan on doing my own thing.”

“And when’s this gonna happen?”

“Sooner than anyone thinks,” she said mysteriously.

“Yeah?”

“Bet on it, big brother,” she said, green eyes flashing danger signals.

“Now you sound like Lucky.”

“An’ that’s a bad thing?” she said, mimicking him.

“C’mon, baby sis,” he said, reaching for her hands and pulling her off the couch. “We got a big dinner to get to. Brigette and her new friend, M.J. and his girl. So you’d better behave yourself. There’ll be plenty of time to talk about your future later.”

“Believe me, Bobby,” she threatened. “we will. And I’m gonna win on this one – you’ll see.”

“P
ack everything up and have it all put into storage,” Annabelle instructed Lupe. “I’m too upset to deal with anything now – I’ll get into it another time.”

“Yes, Miss Anna,” Lupe said obediently. Somehow she’d never been able to master saying Annabelle’s full name. “Miss Gemma’s jewelry,” she added, full of concern. “What I do with it?”

Annabelle presumed that all of her mother’s expensive jewelry was secure at the bank or tucked away in a safe hidden in the house. Frankly she didn’t care. Gemma’s jewelry wasn’t to her taste.