Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [147]
Was Billy forgetting the months he’d camped out in Kev’s apartment when he’d first made it to Hollywood? Billy Melina had not had a pot to piss in, and he, Kev, was the one who’d been paying all the bills, putting food on the table and supporting Billy all the way.
So fuck it. He had a chance of making some real money, and who could blame him for taking it?
It turned out that Ellie was more than just a pretty girl sitting at a bar scribbling in a notebook. Ellie was a freelance photojournalist who was in Vegas to dig up as much dirt as she could on the many famous celebrities flocking into Vegas for the big fight.
‘Y’know,’ she informed Kev, after they’d shared a couple of beers, ‘the right photo of a hot celeb can fetch anything up to a hundred grand. And with your boss going through such a public divorce – well . . . if I can get an exclusive photo of him with someone new – bingo! We’re in the money. You arrange it, and you’re in for half.’
Who was he to turn down such a lucrative offer?
Screw loyalty. It didn’t seem to matter to Billy.
* * *
Frankie frowned. Where was he supposed to start looking for Cookie? She wasn’t on the dance floor, she wasn’t in the damn club, so where the hell was she? He had no idea, but he did know that if he wanted to stay on Gerald M.’s good side, he’d better start searching for the little minx.
Gerald M. was the kind of dude he was desperate to hang with. Yeah, Gerald M. might be older, but he was a tried and true star – like a Smokey Robinson or a Lionel Richie. Old school. And Frankie would like nothing better than for Gerald M. to plant his ass in River every night, give the place some star power. He’d even supply him with free drugs for the pleasure of his company.
However, this wasn’t going to happen until he produced Gerald M.’s precious daughter.
How precious would Daddy think Cookie was if he’d seen her sucking Frankie’s cock on the drive up? Not so precious any more.
Frankie approached M.J. and was taken aback to observe his ex – Annabelle Maestro – sitting at the table, right next to Lennie Golden and the red-hot agent everyone was talking about – Eddie Falcon. He and Annabelle hadn’t spoken in months, not since he’d threatened to sue her for publishing a libellous untruthful book, painting him as some kind of dissolute low-life drug addict.
He knew Eddie – the agent had stopped by River on several occasions – so he said a brusque, ‘Hi,’ and attempted to ignore Annabelle.
Eddie wasn’t having it. ‘You know my girlfriend, Annabelle Maestro,’ he said. A pause, then – ‘Wait a minute, didn’t the two of you used to go out?’
‘Briefly,’ Annabelle said, refusing to look at Frankie.
‘Way back,’ Frankie said, turning to M.J. ‘You seen Cookie?’ he asked.
‘Dating juveniles now,’ Annabelle murmured. ‘How appropriate.’
Frankie pretended not to hear her.
‘She and Max were goin’ over to Wonderball,’ Cassie offered.
‘Wonder what?’ Frankie said, wishing he was anywhere but standing in front of this group.
‘It’s a kid’s club on the Strip,’ Cassie said. ‘Wonderball – everyone knows it.’
Great. His teenage girlfriend had run out on him to go party with the kiddies. Well, at least he could tell Gerald M. where she was.
‘Thanks,’ he said to Cassie.
‘No prob,’ Cassie responded.
Back to his table he went with his newfound information on Cookie’s whereabouts.
The table was empty. Gerald M. and his entourage – including the two blondes Frankie had lined up for later – had taken off. All that was left was the check.
His freakin’ luck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
* * *
Max loved the fact that Billy didn’t want her to go; it meant that he really liked her.
‘When am I gonna see you again?’ he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed watching her as she pulled on her leggings and boots. ‘’Cause if I’m not gonna see you, I may as well hop a flight back to L.A.’
‘Well . . .’ she said, thinking about how she could work it out. ‘I’ve got lunch with my family, but after that I don’t see why I couldn’t come by. Maybe we