Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [53]
‘You gotta be delusional.’
‘Would I make it up?’
‘Your dad’s gonna freak.’
‘My dad doesn’t give a shit,’ Cookie said matter-of-factly. ‘He’s too busy being his famous self.’
‘Anyway,’ Max said, deciding it was prudent not to tell Cookie about her and Billy. Cookie had a big mouth, it was definitely best not to trust her. ‘No Vegas today. We’re going tomorrow morning. I changed our flight.’
‘Hmm . . . about Vegas,’ Cookie ventured, hesitating for a moment. ‘Here’s the thing—’
‘What?’ Max said sharply. ‘Don’t you dare bale on me. I’ll freaking kill you.’
‘Is it cool if I invite Frankie?’
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘’Cause, duh . . . didn’t I just tell you, he’s my boyfriend.’
‘But didn’t I just tell you Frankie and Bobby aren’t talking.’
‘Then this would be the perfect opportunity for them to chill,’ Cookie said, perking up. ‘Frankie told me that he really misses Bobby. It wasn’t as if there was a huge fight, they just kinda drifted apart. After all, they were best friends.’
‘I don’t know . . .’ Max answered, unsure. ‘I thought M.J. was his best friend.’
‘M.J., Frankie . . . they were all kind of a team. An’ besides, it’s your birthday party,’ Cookie said, turning up the pressure. ‘Which means that basically it’s up to you whether Frankie comes or not.’
‘You think?’
‘Yes, Max. An’ it’s not as if I ever ask you for anything.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Max objected. ‘All the time.’
‘You gotta do this for me,’ Cookie pleaded. ‘Do it, an’ I’ll owe you big time.’
Max weakened. Why not? It wasn’t as if she hated Frankie or anything. And since it was Frankie who’d brought Billy to the party . . .
‘Fine,’ she said at last, adding a stern, ‘Only no drugs – save that for your quality time together.’
‘You’re such a star!’ Cookie squealed. ‘Frankie will be like major psyched, and I promise we’ll leave all illegal substances at the door. Deal?’
‘Deal,’ Max agreed, hoping that Bobby wouldn’t be too mad.
Chapter Nineteen
Naturally Armand chose to blame Fouad for his mother wishing to accompany him to Vegas. Someone had to be held responsible for her infuriating request. Not even a request, more a statement of intent – ‘I am coming with you,’ she’d said in a take no prisoners tone of voice.
Damnit! What did she want from him?
Armand was furious, but he’d acquiesced all the same since he’d never been able to say no to Peggy. Whenever he was in her presence he felt less of a man, more of a boy. Unfortunately for him there was nothing he could do about it; it had always been that way.
His childhood memories were not pleasant. A few weeks after his eleventh birthday Peggy had caught him torturing the neighbour’s cat, whereupon she’d forced him to pull down his pants in front of several of her friends, and whipped him on the butt a dozen times with a thick leather belt. He’d barely been able to sit down for a week.
The deep humiliation mixed with the intense pain and the fear of his mother had stayed with him for a very long time. After that, whenever he did anything bad, he made sure she never found out.
On their return trip to the airport, Armand had Fouad alert their driver to stop and pick up Peggy. She sashayed out to the limousine accompanied by five pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage. As usual she was dressed for attention, wearing a yellow Valentino suit, matching Louboutins, her flaming red hair setting off her pale skin.
Armand tried not to breathe in her overpowering scent. The familiar smell sickened him. It reminded him of the time they’d moved from Akramshar to New York, and she’d insisted that every morning he jumped into her bed for a cuddle. The cuddle had involved the feel of her soft breasts pressed against him while her strong perfume had completely enveloped him. He was eight years old and the smell had lingered in his nostrils all day long. Childhood memories did not please him.
‘Peggy,’ he said, greeting her stiffly, using her name because the moment he’d hit his teenage years she’d requested that he no longer call her