Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [58]
‘Trip?’ she questioned, fluffing back her long hair. ‘I thought you lived in the city.’
‘Uh . . . yeah, but now I kinda spend most of my time on the West Coast.’
‘Hmm . . .’ Annabelle said, giving him a piercing look. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still seeing Denver? That’s a surprise.’
‘Why is that a surprise?’ Bobby asked, sensing a bitchy response was headed in his direction.
‘You know,’ Annabelle said, with a dismissive shrug. ‘Denver’s hardly the girl I see by your side.’
‘Yeah?’ Bobby said, not about to put up with her crap. ‘And who would you see by my side?’
A coy giggle. ‘Someone like me.’
Jesus Christ, did she honestly imagine he would ever go for someone like her? All fake – from her hair extensions to her obviously enhanced cheekbones. No freaking way.
‘The thing is,’ Annabelle continued, unfazed by his lack of response, ‘you and I come from the same backgrounds. We’re pedigrees, while I guess you would have to call Denver some kind of mutt.’
‘Jesus, you’re a real bitch!’ Bobby exclaimed. ‘Are you listening to what you’re saying?’
Annabelle shrugged. ‘The truth can be a harsh pill to swallow.’ A beat, and then, ‘Where’s your plane? Shouldn’t we be taking that to L.A.?’
Bobby stood up abruptly. ‘Go fuck yourself,’ he said, loud and clear. And then he walked off.
* * *
Dinner with Gino again, not such a bad thing. This time Paige, his third wife, was with him. And Jeffrey Lonsdale joined them, along with the owners of The Cavendish Hotel – a lesbian couple, Renee and Susie, whom Lucky liked very much. Renee was a ballsy old broad, and her partner, Susie, was an ex-Hollywood wife. They both had plenty to say for themselves, and Gino always enjoyed their company.
Lucky had organized a window table at François, the best French restaurant in Vegas. Since it was located at the top of The Keys, the view of the sparkling Las Vegas lights was breathtaking.
Sitting across the table from Gino, Lucky couldn’t help staring at him and wondering what the hell she’d do without him. They shared such a rocky history, but she loved him with every bone in her body, and she was fiercely protective of him, as he was of her. Over the years they’d fought off so many enemies from Gino’s past, but in the end they’d reigned victorious, although it had not been an easy ride.
Never fuck with a Santangelo, the family motto. Lucky smiled. They were words to live by.
Earlier she’d called Max at the house to see how she was doing. No answer there. No answer on her cell. Lucky wasn’t worried – Max could take care of herself. She’d thwarted that crazy pervert who’d attempted to kidnap her a year ago, and she’d come out a winner.
In her heart Lucky knew that Max was a true Santangelo and could protect herself come what may.
* * *
Max took a cab to Billy’s house. Like most L.A. cab drivers her driver barely spoke English and drove as if he was involved in a high-speed car chase with cops inches behind him. The cab stank of garlic, and the driver kept on muttering in a foreign language under his breath. Several times he applied the brakes so hard that she almost fell on the floor. Lovely!
By the time they reached Billy’s, she was nervous and flustered, a combination of the out-of-control ride and seeing Billy again. She hadn’t mentioned what had taken place between her and Billy to anyone, not even Harry, who at times could be relied upon to be fairly discreet. Harry had dropped by her house earlier, apologized for running out on the chaos and mess, then proceeded to smoke a joint and rave about Paco for one full hour. Eventually she’d told him he’d better leave because she had to get ready for a hot date. Interest piqued, Harry wanted to know who her date was with. She’d managed not to tell him, even though she was dying to confide in someone.
Arriving at Billy’s house, Max was horrified to observe a bunch of paparazzi milling around outside the gates. Hurriedly she instructed the driver not to stop, and had him take her around the corner, where she pulled out her cell and called Billy.
‘There’s an