Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [4]
‘What’s the deal with this one?’ Max asked.
‘English, complete with uptight accent and a bug up her ever so tight British ass,’ Cookie said, making a disgusted face. ‘She thinks she’s like the second coming of Keira Knightley. As if.’
‘Your old man sure covers the waterfront,’ Harry remarked, pulling up the collar of his long Goth-like coat.
‘Tell me about it,’ Cookie said with a weary sigh. ‘I’ve had more almost step-moms than you’ve had filthy thoughts about Chace Crawford!’
‘Okay, okay,’ Max said, interrupting them. She was into making fast decisions, not screwing around and vacillating about what to do. ‘We could check out a new club that opened a couple of weeks ago. River. I’m sure we can get in.’
‘Let’s do it,’ Cookie said, fiddling with the dark chocolate-brown dreadlocks that framed her exceptionally pretty face.
‘D’you think Chace Crawford’ll be there?’ Harry asked hopefully.
Max threw him a look. ‘Calm down,’ she said. ‘Surely you know? Chace Crawford is so into girls.’
‘That’s what they all say,’ Harry muttered. ‘But I know better.’
* * *
‘Lucky has invited us to Vegas next weekend,’ Bobby Santangelo Stanislopoulos said, stretching his six foot three frame on Denver Jones’s shabby chic couch. ‘She’s planning a party for my sister Max’s eighteenth birthday, one of her big family events.’
Denver regarded her boyfriend of several months with slight trepidation. Oh, man, the longish black hair, dark-as-night eyes, Greek nose, and strong jawline got her every time. If only he wasn’t so damn handsome. If only she hadn’t harboured a crush on him since high school. If only he wasn’t such a fantastic lover with all the right moves.
‘Your mom intimidates me,’ she said at last, stroking the belly of her dog, Amy Winehouse, who lay on its back making happy sounds. Amy was a mixed breed that Denver and her ex, Josh, had found wandering on Venice Beach. They’d named the dog Amy Winehouse because of its low throaty growl. Plus the fabulous Miz Winehouse was one of Denver’s favourite singers.
Bobby laughed – he had a fantastic laugh. Naturally. ‘C’mon,’ he chided. ‘I’m sure Lucky thinks you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me.’
Denver raised an eyebrow. ‘Thing?’ she said coolly.
‘Y’know what I mean.’
‘The problem is,’ Denver said, desperately searching for a suitable excuse, ‘I’m moving over to the Drug Unit next week, so there’s a ton of stuff I feel I should research.’
‘You’ll bring your laptop – that way you can do all the research you want. It’s a forty-eight-hour trip, sweetheart. I’m calling for the plane’.
She hated it when Bobby said things like ‘I’m calling for the plane.’ It was so elitist, so exactly who she wasn’t. Some girls might get off on all the luxury, but private planes, lavish parties, and hanging with Bobby’s illustrious family was not for her. Plus she wasn’t that fond of Vegas, and she hadn’t told Bobby – but she hated spending time at his ultra-happening club, Mood. She especially hated the way women fawned all over him, and flirted outrageously, ignoring her as if she didn’t even exist.
The truth was that she loved Bobby. But she didn’t love the trappings that came with him.
Bobby stretched again and yawned. ‘Whaddya say?’
‘I say I’ll think about it.’
‘Sounds good,’ he said, reaching up to pull her down on the couch beside him.
She acquiesced. It was early evening and they had no plans, so what was wrong with relaxing for the moment?
They’d been seeing each other on and off for the past three months. The on was when Bobby was in L.A. The off was when he had to spend time at his two clubs. Mood in Vegas, and Mood in New York. The on was the best of times. The off was missing him and wondering what he was doing, and trying to have some decent phone sex which left them both in a hysterical state of laughter.
Neither of them had uttered the L word. Although they had conducted the talk about being exclusive.
Both of them were wary about getting