Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [106]
‘Pay me?’ she said, an uncomfortable expression crossing her face. ‘Why would you pay me?’
‘Remind me,’ he said gruffly. ‘What’s your name?’
Instead of being insulted she seemed relieved. ‘Ah, so many women, such a short memory,’ she trilled. ‘Annabelle. Annabelle Maestro.’
And then it came to him. Annabelle, the daughter of Hollywood movie stars – one of them brutally murdered. She’d written a book about it, and about how – for a time – she’d acted as a madam in New York, and for the right price sold herself on occasion.
Sure, he remembered her now. They’d met at a dinner party in New York and he’d had her in the bathroom between courses. She hadn’t minded when he’d ravished her against the cold marble of the vanity. And the next night he’d taken her to the opening of a play, then back to his apartment – where once again the somewhat raunchy sex was consensual.
As far as he could recall she was up for anything, so of course he hadn’t called her. Where was the kick if he couldn’t humiliate her? He hadn’t paid her either. She was obviously under the impression he had not known of her past history.
The woman was a reformed whore. The best kind. Maybe she could help him find what he was looking for.
‘Would you care to join me for a drink, Annabelle?’ he asked, turning to her with a plastered-on smile.
She nodded eagerly.
He had plans for this one.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Although Denver liked M.J., she wasn’t that comfortable with his young, overly ambitious wife, Cassie. The girl couldn’t stop talking about herself and her burgeoning career – which, as far as Denver could decipher, had failed to take off. She’d had one shot at making a record and a few singing gigs in hotel lounges, but Cassie kept on boasting about how she was about to sign with a new agent – a man who’d promised he could jump-start a fabulous career, making her into the next Rihanna.
This girl has no intention of staying pregnant, Denver thought. This girl has major ambition on her mind, certainly not babies.
‘I’m younger than Katy Perry,’ Cassie mused. ‘Way prettier than Ke$ha. And way hotter than Taylor Swift. Which means my chance of making it to the top is huge. Right, baby?’ she said, turning to M.J., finally acknowledging his existence.
M.J. nodded, although he didn’t look too happy about his young wife’s enthusiasm for a career that had yet to happen.
Denver could understand why. Surely he knew that there was no way he could persuade Cassie to change her mind about getting an abortion. She shot a quick glance at Bobby. His expression was impartial. One thing about Bobby – he was not into confrontations unless there was no other way. ‘I’m going to the ladies room,’ she said, rising from the table.
‘Me too!’ Cassie squeaked, jumping to her feet.
‘Talk to her,’ Bobby mouthed to Denver.
Right, so that’s why she was in Vegas, to induce a would-be pop star into giving up her dreams and having a baby.
Cassie beat her to it. As soon as they reached the powder room she threw her sparkly purse on the counter, turned to Denver and said, ‘Can you keep a secret?’
Oh no! Denver thought. Please don’t make me your confidante.
Cassie was determined. ‘Can you?’ she repeated.
‘Uh, not so hot with secrets,’ Denver managed, quickly ducking into a stall to escape.
Cassie was waiting when she emerged, standing at the counter applying cherry red lip-gloss with her finger. ‘You’re so lucky to be with a dude like Bobby,’ Cassie sighed. ‘All the girls in the club are crazy for him.’
‘Good to know,’ Denver said, washing her hands while wondering who ‘all the girls in the club’ were. Customers? Staff? What the hell.
‘My friend, Lindy – well, she says Bobby’s into you ’cause you’re so smart.’
‘Also good to know,’ Denver said dryly.
‘I bet he’s a total stud in bed.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Is he?’
‘I don’t think that’s anyone’s business except mine.’
Cassie giggled. ‘You’re such a lady! I guess that’s another