Vendetta: Lucky's Revenge (15 page)

“The man was obviously insane.”

“After Dimitri, there was Lennie.” She stopped speaking, her eyes clouding over. “Lennie was my soul mate,” she said at last. “We were everything to each other. I loved him so much.” She gazed deeply into Alex’s eyes. “Have you ever felt that kind of connection with another person?”

“No,” he said, wishing he could say he had.

“It’s the greatest feeling,” she said wistfully. “There’s this incredible chemistry….”

“It must have been hard for you, Lucky,” he interrupted. “The accident…losing Lennie…”

“Some things are meant to be,” she said, abruptly reaching for her drink. “I haven’t told anyone this, Alex, but I found out Lennie was screwing around. There were photos in his hotel room with a blond draped all over him. Nude pictures of her stashed in the bedside drawer. He was obviously with her the night before I arrived. I don’t know why he didn’t cover his tracks—he must’ve thought the maid would clear everything up while he was at the airport.” She took a long, deep breath. “Anyway, it’s been hard, because, uh…I believe in fidelity. You know, screw around all you want when you’re single, but when you marry somebody—well…for me that’s the ultimate commitment.”

“Ah…” Alex sighed. “She has old-fashioned values.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she responded vehemently, sorry she’d revealed so much of herself. “I find it crazy that we live in a country where everybody says it’s okay if a guy goes out and gets laid because he’s a guy. It’s
not
okay with me. I loved Lennie, and he let me down. That’s not playing fair.” She stopped talking and lit another cigarette, angry with herself for becoming so emotional. “I’m getting maudlin,” she said, making a rapid recovery. “Let’s have one more drink.”

“You’re almost blasted, Lucky.”

She looked at him coolly. “Sometimes you just gotta blow it out, Alex.” She clicked her fingers—summoning the bartender. The old man shuffled over. She waved a twenty-dollar bill under his nose. “Give this to Driving Miss Daisy. Tell her we’d like her to join us, and bring me another double.”

“What are you
doing
?” Alex said, creasing his forehead.

“I’m curious to know how this ugly woman with this
amazing body ended up here, stripping for a living. Aren’t you?”

“I’m more interested in meeting Gino.”

“We’ll get there. Don’t worry.”

The John Travolta clone leaned into their conversation. He wore a yellow shirt and mud-brown pants. His hair was long and greasy. “You-all from L.A.?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his nose with a dirty fingernail.

“Now what makes you think that?” Lucky said, tilting her head.

He placed his bottle of beer on the bar, suggestively fingering the wet rim. “’Cause you sure don’t look like you’re from these parts.”

“Aw, shucks,” Lucky drawled, almost flirting. “And I was hoping I’d fit right in.”

The young guy guffawed. “Name’s Jed. This here’s the hottest place around,” he boasted. “You picked good.”

“Really?” Lucky said, her dark eyes drawing him in.

Jed leaned closer, leering at her. “You one of them Hollywood actresses?”

Alex could smell the dumb jerk’s hard-on. “She’s with me,” he interrupted. “And we’re not looking to have a third party join us.”
So keep it in your pants, shithead, and get the fuck away
.

“No offense,” Jed said, backing off. “Just bein’ friendly.”

“Lucky,” Alex said in a low voice, “I’m not interested in getting into a fight, so do me a favor and stop encouraging the local talent.”

She regarded him mockingly. “Thought you might get off taking a walk on the wild side, Alex. Isn’t the wild side your territory?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m considerably outnumbered.”

“Oh
…sooo
sorry.” She held her empty glass toward the bartender. “Set me up again.”

“Jesus Christ!” Alex muttered. “Whaddya have—a hollow leg?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m going to the john,” he said curtly. “Try to stay out of trouble. When I get back, we’re taking off.”

She mock-saluted. “Yes,
sir
!”

The moment Alex was out of sight, the local stud returned to the business of picking her up.

“Didn’t mean no offense,” he said, sliding nearer.

“None taken,” Lucky responded, noticing he had no side teeth. It did not add to his sex appeal.

“Would that be your husband?” Jed said, gesturing to Alex’s seat.

“No. That would
not
be my husband,” she said, amused.

“Then mebbe I kin buy you a beer.”

“I’m drinking tequila.”

“I kin go for that.” He signaled the bartender. “Put the lady’s drink on my tab.”

The bartender was a man who sensed trouble long before it happened. “Not a good idea, Jed,” he said warningly.

“The guy she’s with ain’t her husband,” Jed explained, like that took care of everything.

“Still not a good idea.”

Jed stood up, red in the face. “I’m fuckin’ buyin’ her a drink,” he said, angrily slamming the bar with his fist.

“Christ!” grunted the bartender, disgusted.

“Let’s not make this a major incident,” Lucky said, staring at the crusty old man.

“You people should stay where you belong,” the bartender growled, glaring at her. “Comin’ in here as if y’own t’place. Drinkin’ tequila like you’re some kinda
man
.”

“Screw you,” Lucky said, starting to lose her temper.

Jed grabbed her arm. “Better not insult t’old bastard. C’mon, I’ll take you somewhere else.”

She shook her arm loose. The booze was clouding her judgment. Alex was right, encouraging the local talent was not a good idea.

Jed went for her arm again. She slapped his bony hand away.

“What’s your freakin’ problem, lady?” Jed exploded.

“Don’t touch me, asshole,” she warned fiercely, her black eyes suddenly deadly.

His face reddened even more. “Whaddaya call me,
bitch
?”

Alex chose that exact moment to return from the men’s room.

“
YOUR FANS, THEY MUST DRIVE YOU CRAZY
,”
Rodriguez remarked, lazily stroking Venus’s platinum hair as they sat, naked, in her outside Jacuzzi, the city lights spread out beneath them like a shimmering blanket of rare jewels.

“Sometimes,” she said thoughtfully. “When I’m out in public, and they try to touch me. You never know if they’ve got a knife or a gun. You can never tell if
they’re
the maniac who’s going to get you.”

“Is that why you have a guard at your house?”

“Protection is necessary. Think about it—everything we do today needs some kind of protection.”

“Like sex.”

“Exactly. You told me you hate wearing a condom. Well,
I
hate having to live my life with guards. Sadly, these are things we’re forced to do.”

“Rodriguez does not have any disease.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“Then we throw away the condoms?”

“No. We do not.”

“Why, my beauty?”

“Get an AIDS test and we’ll see.”

He touched her breasts with his fingertips, rubbing insistently.

She shivered as her nipples became erect. Tonight he’d been better than the two previous times. Tonight he’d made her moan with pleasure. As a reward, she was allowing him to stay awhile.

He reached for the bottle of champagne perched on the side of the Jacuzzi and held it to her lips. She allowed the golden liquid to trickle down her throat.

“Aren’t you having any?” she asked, slowly licking her lips.

“I’ll show you how Rodriguez drinks champagne,” he said, boldly picking her up and placing her on the edge of the Jacuzzi.

“What are you
doing
?” she objected, but not too strenuously.

“Silence, my lovely,” he murmured, spreading her legs and caressing the soft inner part of her thighs. Then he took the champagne bottle and tipped the bubbly liquid over her pubic area. “
This
is how Rodriguez drinks champagne,” he said, lapping the liquid from between her legs, continuing to work his smooth Latin tongue until once more she sighed with pleasure and decided that maybe Rodriguez was a keeper after all.

Mario’s was a noisy and colorful Italian restaurant packed with models, agents, art dealers, and writers. “It’s
the
happening place,” Nona informed Brigette as they pushed their way past the jammed bar to Luke’s booth, Zandino trailing behind them.

They’d both rushed home and changed. Nona wore a bright-green satin Dolce Gabbana shirt and tight black pants, while Brigette had settled on a skimpy white Calvin Klein shift dress and strappy sandals.

Luke was not alone. Cybil Wilde and her hair stylist were sitting in his booth. Cybil had a Christie Brinkley glow about her that automatically made her the center of attention. She was so glossily pretty that Brigette was immediately intimidated—even though they were about the same age.

“Squeeze in, everyone,” Luke said, greeting them warmly. “I’m sure you all know Cybil, and this is the great Harvey, who makes even
my
hair look halfway passable.”

Harvey reached up and touched a lock of Brigette’s honey-blond hair. “Nice, luv,” he said in a heavy cockney accent. “No coloring—none of them stupid streaks all the girls are into. Keep it this way.”

“Thanks,” Brigette said, sliding in next to him.

“And as for
you
, madame,” Harvey added, checking out Nona’s blazing red hair. “Veree
au courant
. An’ natural, too, I bet.”

Brigette took a moment to study Harvey. A man of about thirty, he had a white-blond buzz cut with a side streak of green, black-leather wrist cinchers, and a small diamond embedded in the side of his nose.

“What would you do to my hair?” she asked, curious to get his opinion.

“Nuffin’,” he said. “You’re a little darlin’ just the way you are.”

Talk about an ego booster! Brigette was pleased.

Nona was more interested in getting down to business. “Can we talk here?” she asked Luke.

“Absolutely,” he replied, waving at several friends.

“Well?” Nona demanded impatiently. “
What?
”

Luke grinned, behaving like an asshole.

“
What?
” she repeated, pulling on his arm.

“I showed the ad agency the pictures of Brigette and Zan. They took ’em to the client, and wham, bam—we got ourselves a gig!”

“Ohmigod!” Nona exclaimed, nudging Brigette. “Did you hear that?”

“Great.”

“Great,” Nona shrieked. “GREAT. It’s absolutely AMAZING!”

“I got
my
start modeling for a May Company catalogue,” Cybil interjected, smiling prettily. “I was sixteen.” Her smile widened, causing dimples in her cheeks. “A very well-developed sixteen!”

“When will the photos appear?” Brigette asked Luke. “And where?”

“We haven’t taken ’em yet,” Luke said, laughing at her naivete. “First you get your agent to make a deal.
Then
we shoot a proper session. After that, my sweet girl, you’ll be in every magazine from here to the moon! Rock ’n’ Roll Jeans spends
money
.”

“How come
I
wasn’t up for this job?” Cybil asked, pouting.

“’Cause you’re—as Nona so tastefully puts it—like dog shit. Oh, don’t worry,” Luke added quickly. “You’re in excellent company—Robertson, Nature—they all got Nona’s seal of disapproval.”

“Guess we need an agent,” Nona said thoughtfully. “Like yesterday.”

Brigette thought of all the agencies who’d refused to see her. The only one who’d shown any interest was Michel Guy.

“Elite,” Cybil said, trying to be helpful. “They’re the best.”

“No. The Ford Agency,” Luke argued. “They’ll protect her. She’s a virgin in this biz, she’ll need armored guards to keep the aging playboys from jumping her innocent little bones.”

“Those men are so gross,” Cybil squealed, turning up her snub nose. “Total
perverts
! Prince this and Count that, and all they want to do is snort coke, get head, and
show you off to their equally disgusting decrepit old friends.”

“Tell us how you
really
feel, dear,” said Harvey, sipping a margarita through a straw.

“Be warned!” Cybil said to Brigette. “I’ll give you a list of the worst offenders.”

“Thanks,” Brigette responded. Cybil was so open and friendly it was impossible not to warm to her.

“What’s your take on rock stars?” Luke asked Cybil with a sly smile.

Cybil giggled; she’d just started dating English rock star Kris Phoenix. “I’m in love!” she cooed. “Kris is
sensational
!”

Brigette remembered another English rock star, the infamous Flash. Her mother had overdosed and died while in his company—both of them drugged out of their minds in a cheap hotel room in Times Square.

Oh, God! Nobody must find out her real identity. It was imperative she protect her anonymity. Maybe she should change her first name just to be sure.

“I can get you in to see any agent in town,” Luke boasted. “Tell me who.”

“Michel Guy,” Brigette said quietly, hardly believing that this was finally happening.

“No problem,” Luke said. “He’s sitting two tables away with Robertson—only when she finds out she’s not doing the Rock ‘n’ Roll Jeans campaign, you may not be a welcome addition to Michel’s family.”

“We’ll see,” Brigette said with a small confident smile.

After Rodriguez left, Venus found she could not sleep, so instead she did her usual nighttime prowl around the house. It was not late enough for her to settle down. Rodriguez had satisfied her sexually, but mentally he
was a blank. She must be getting old, because now she needed more than just a great body and a horny disposition. She craved a companion, someone she could talk to when the sex was over. Cooper excelled at both.

She tried to decide who she could wake up at this time of night. Maybe Lucky, who never wanted to talk anymore unless it concerned business. Well, too bad, this might be the perfect time to reach her.

“Miss Santangelo is in Palm Springs visiting her father,” Cee Cee informed her over the phone.

“How’s she doing?” Venus asked.

“She works too hard,” Cee Cee replied, sounding concerned.

“Tell me about it! I never see her anymore, she’s always too busy.”

After putting the phone down, she attempted to read a magazine and found she couldn’t concentrate. She was so restless it was crazy.

Hmm…she thought, who else would be up?

Ron, of course. Her best friend, Ron, who, since he’d been with major mogul Harris Von Stepp, was also on the missing list. She’d nicknamed Harris “Major Mogul” to get back at Ron, who’d called Martin Swanson the same thing when she and Martin had been an item.

Ron was not amused. “Don’t
ever
let him hear you call him that,” he’d warned. “Harris has no sense of humor, he’ll throw a complete fit.”

“Harris is too tight-assed,” she’d replied. “Couldn’t you have latched on to a
fun
faggot?”

“Control your language, girl,” Ron had scolded. “Faggot is
not
a politically correct word.”

She missed Ron. Not seeing him as much as she used to was like breaking off with a favorite lover.

The hell with it, she decided to call him.

“You’ll never guess who this is,” she announced when he answered the phone.

“Oh, like
quelle surprise
!” Ron said, totally unsurprised. “Are we experiencing a
crisis
?”

“As a matter of fact, we are. I was kind of wondering if you could come over, sit around and talk, y’know…get cozy like we used to…”

“Certainly, popsicle,” he said crisply. “That will go down
very
well with Harris. I’m sure he’s simply
dying
for me to run into the bedroom and say, ‘Just shooting out to visit Venus.’ The man is a jealous wreck as it is.
Especially
of you.”

“Why
me
? I’m a girl.”

“
Ohh…
you’ve just answered your own question.
Clever
little minx!”

“When
can
I see you?”

“Seriously, poppet, if it’s urgent, I’ll risk Harris’s wrath and come over now.”

“No, no, it can wait, but I
do
miss you.”

“Miss you, too. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“Excellent.”

“I’m in the editing room all morning. Let’s see, we could meet, say, one-thirty?”

“I can tell you all about Rodriguez.”

“Ahh…you finally did it with your masseur.”

“But of course!”

“Then I’ll surely be there. Details are my life!”

When she hung up, she had this insane desire to call Cooper.
Come back, all is forgiven
, she’d say. No, she’d learned at an early age that it was suicidal to repeat past mistakes.

Cooper would never change. And unless she was prepared to accept his infidelities, she was better off without him.