Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [87]
* * *
‘Remember that time you got a dose of the crabs from some piece a stray you banged, then you hadda ’splain it with some bullshit story to Venus?’ Kev said with a raucous chuckle. ‘Good times, buddy, good times.’
‘For you, maybe,’ Billy responded, cracking a slight smile. ‘I hadda tell Venus I caught ’em from a crapper. Don’t think she believed me.’
Kev snorted with mirth. ‘Yeah, those were the bad-ass days. God, I miss ’em.’
They were now settled in a luxury villa at The Cavendish, and Kev was hot to hit the tables; he kept on encouraging Billy to do the same.
‘I gotta coupla biz calls to make,’ Billy said, thrusting a few hundred-dollar bills at Kev. ‘Go put this on seven for me. An’ try to make sure I’m a winner.’
‘Like when’re you ever not?’ Kev grumbled, grabbing the money and taking off. ‘See you in the casino.’
‘Ten minutes,’ Billy promised. ‘Don’t forget – number seven.’
As soon as Kev left, he paced up and down for a minute or two, then he called Max on her cell. No reply. He hesitated about leaving a message, then decided against it. He’d sooner talk to her personally.
Unusual for him, but he was feeling slightly apprehensive about what she’d have to say. Would she be pleased he’d followed her to Vegas? Or would she blow him off?
For now he’d just have to wait and see.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘You ever thought of dumpin’ the dreads?’ Frankie inquired, as he and Cookie lay side by side on top of the bed in their hotel room, casually sharing a joint.
‘Huh?’ Cookie replied, immediately tugging on the Caribbean dreadlocks that she considered her trademark. ‘Never had any complaints before.’
‘I was kinda thinkin’ you might wanna go for a softer look,’ Frankie suggested.
‘You sound like my dad,’ Cookie said, dragging on the weed. ‘I’m totally into my dreads. Who wants to look like every other girl in L.A.?’
‘You, never,’ Frankie insisted, extracting the joint from her fingers and taking a deep hit. ‘You’re an original.’
‘Why you even askin’?’ Cookie demanded, thinking that for an older guy Frankie sure had his shit together. He was okay in the sack. He came up with a steady assortment of drugs, and he was a kick to be around. Not boring, like Max’s boyfriend, Ace. And not a weirdo like Harry – because even though Harry was one of her best friends, she had to admit he was kind of eccentric at times.
‘’Cause every time you give me a b.j. your dreads keep hittin’ my balls,’ Frankie said, exhaling a thin line of smoke.
‘Ewh!’ Cookie giggled. ‘Wouldn’t wanna damage your precious cojones.’
‘You wouldn’t, huh?’ Frankie said.
‘No, ’cause then you couldn’t get it up.’
‘You got a dirty mouth.’
‘An’ doncha love it,’ Cookie responded, rolling over and climbing astride him. ‘Anyway,’ she added, ‘who’d you want me to look like?’
‘Janet Jackson at her peak,’ Frankie said with a wink. ‘You’re as pretty as her.’
Cookie giggled again and snatched the joint back from him. ‘A thin Janet Jackson,’ she said pointedly. ‘With way better tits.’
‘Now hold on,’ Frankie objected, pushing her off him. ‘You gotta admit the woman’s got a dynamite pair, we all saw ’em at the Super Bowl.’
‘An’ I don’t?’ Cookie said, pouting.
‘That goes without sayin’, Honeytits.’
‘Honeytits!’ she squealed. ‘Where’d you come up with that?’
‘Mel Gibson, I think.’
‘Screw Mel Gibson. An’ anyway, he called that cop Sugartits.’
‘Same thing.’
‘No way.’
‘I got an idea.’
‘What?’
‘Whyn’t you blow me, Sugartits, an’ shut the fuck up.’
Cookie so appreciated being treated like an adult.
* * *
Bobby’s surprise was a private boat on Lake Mead, with a gourmet late lunch and an attentive waiter. Denver could’ve done without the lunch and the waiter, but she didn’t say anything because she was fully aware that Bobby meant well, and it was a very thoughtful gesture.
However, she couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her BlackBerry to see what was going on back in L.A. Taking Friday off was not a career-enhancing move, but Bobby had been so insistent, and since she was moving on to the Drug Unit, did it really