Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [55]
‘No room at The Keys,’ Armand said brusquely, shooting Fouad a why didn’t you tell her? look. Jesus Christ! Did he have to do everything himself?
‘The whole point of my coming here was to spend more time with you, Armand,’ Peggy complained, quite disappointed. ‘There are things we need to discuss.’
‘It’s unfortunate, but there is a big convention at The Keys,’ Fouad explained, attempting to smooth things over. ‘No more suites available. And of course Armand did not wish to put you in a room. He requires only the best for you.’
Little did Peggy suspect that Armand would be occupying a suite with four bedrooms. If she’d known that, she would have insisted on staying with him.
‘Very well,’ she said, pursing her lips. ‘And what time will you be picking me up for dinner?’
Armand had not factored in taking Peggy to dinner. This was Vegas, home of the most expensive and inventive call girls in America. Girls who never balked at any request, however out of line. As long as the money flowed, anything was possible, and he’d been planning on taking full advantage. Armand’s line of credit in Vegas was limitless, plus he always travelled with a suitcase full of cash in case of an unforeseen emergency.
Yes, he was ready to indulge himself, and now Peggy expected dinner? Goddamnit! This was not the trip he had imagined.
‘I thought you would be tired after the flight,’ he said tersely. ‘Perhaps room service?’
Peggy threw him a scornful look. ‘Tired, Armand? Me? How old do you think I am? Eighty?’
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Pick me up at eight,’ she ordered, cutting him off. ‘And make sure we go somewhere fancy. I plan on dressing up.’
The moment Peggy was out of the limousine, Armand issued more instructions. He handed Fouad an engraved card stamped with the name Yvonne Le Crane, a phone number and an email address. ‘Book two women to be in my suite at five. An Asian and a black girl, both under twenty-five,’ he ordered. ‘I will keep them for two hours. Then at midnight, three more girls. White, preferably from Texas, with blonde hair.’
Fouad was almost speechless. Since when had he been appointed head pimp? He was not an assistant, he was a Chief Officer at Jordan Developments, a man who deserved at least a modicum of respect. Now Armand was instructing him to order up hookers? This was a ridiculous situation.
‘I suggest you might want to make this phone call yourself,’ Fouad said, swallowing his anger. ‘There could be questions I cannot answer. And I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed.’
Armand considered Fouad’s words and surprisingly agreed. Yes, he was specific when it came to the women he paid. He would call Yvonne Le Crane – that way he would get exactly what he required. No mistakes.
After all, he was a Prince among men, and he expected only the best.
Chapter Twenty
A text from Bobby informed Max that she and her friends should meet in the private sector of LAX at noon the next day to take the Stanislopoulos plane to Vegas.
She was excited to go on Bobby’s plane, even more excited to spend time with her big brother whom she adored.
As luck would have it, after agreeing that Cookie could bring Frankie to Vegas, Cookie announced that they would be driving, since Frankie wanted to have his car there. Max considered this to be perfect timing, because turning up to meet Bobby with Frankie in tow might’ve been major awkward.
Harry was delighted about being invited on the private plane, even more so when he mentioned Paco had a gig in Vegas, so could he hitch a ride too?
Max agreed, and then she thought – Oh great, everyone will have someone in Vegas except me.
No time to think about that; her main concern was planning the perfect outfit to wear to Billy’s house. Her closet contained a ton of options, none of them quite right. After rummaging through everything she possessed, she finally settled on skinny black jeans, a simple white tank top, and a black cashmere