Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [98]
Anticipating Lennie’s arrival, Lucky felt the old familiar excitement. They were never together long enough for either of them to get bored with each other. Their reunions were always going to be something special, she made sure of that. So even though family and invited guests were in Vegas for Max’s party the following night, Lucky had decided that tonight family and friends were on their own, for tonight belonged to Lennie. He was her number one priority. Always. That would never change.
By the time he arrived she was ready to greet him, a stunning vision in a soft black leather dress, slit thigh high, her jet hair framing her oval face, the drop emerald earrings Lennie had presented her with last Christmas her only adornment.
Tonight she was nobody’s mommy. She was Lucky Santangelo at her wildest.
The moment Lennie entered the apartment she strode toward him and handed him his favourite drink – a black Russian.
Lennie smiled. His smile was one of the things she loved most about him. It crinkled his eyes – ocean green, paler than Max’s brilliant emerald. And she loved his mouth, and his longish dirty-blonde hair. But most of all she loved his warmth, his talent as a filmmaker, and his soul. They truly were soul-mates.
‘Who are you tonight?’ he asked, throwing down his bag.
Lucky gave an enigmatic smile. ‘Whoever you want me to be.’
‘You know exactly who I want you to be,’ he said, moving purposefully toward her.
‘Tell me,’ she whispered as he reached her and began peeling down the spaghetti-thin straps of her dress.
‘My wife,’ he muttered, crushing her to him so tightly that she could barely breathe. ‘My life, my love, my everything.’
* * *
‘You gotta come with us,’ Cookie pleaded over the phone to Max. ‘Frankie’s insistin’ that we go see my dad’s concert. There’s no way I can do it without you.’
‘Ace is here,’ Max stated, sitting on the edge of the couch in her usual suite trying to figure out what to do about him.
‘What’s up with that?’ Cookie said, sounding surprised. ‘Thought you weren’t inviting him.’
‘Well he’s here, and I promised we’d hang out by ourselves.’
‘No freakin’ way,’ Cookie wailed. ‘I need help, an’ Harry’s goin’ to some shitty gig with his Mexican pal.’
‘Paco,’ Max said patiently. ‘The dude’s name is Paco.’
‘Oh, get you – Miss all Politically Correct.’
‘Where’s your dad’s concert?’
‘At The Cavendish. Can you freakin’ believe it? An’ Frankie has to find out about it. Then he tells me he’s always wanted to meet him.’
‘That’s Frankie – the original star fucker.’
‘He’s so not,’ Cookie argued.
‘Then why’s he so desperate to get together with your old man?’
‘How would I know?’ Cookie said irritably. ‘Maybe he’s into that retro soul shit.’
‘Really?’ Max said unbelievingly.
‘Yes, really.’ A beat, then, ‘You gonna do this for me or not?’
‘I suppose so,’ Max said, kind of relieved in a way, because spending the night alone with Ace could’ve been major awkward, considering the circumstances of what had recently taken place between her and Billy.
‘You’re a star!’ Cookie exclaimed. ‘Can you have Danny score us tickets, an’ meet us by the elevator in half an hour? Oh, an’ turn your cell on. I was tryin’ forever to reach you until I thought of callin’ your actual room.’
Max hung up, and dug in her purse for her cell which she’d forgotten to take off plane-mode. Just as she was about to turn it back on, Ace emerged from the bedroom. He’d taken a shower and put on his usual outfit of jeans and a denim work-shirt. He looked hot, but not as hot as Billy.
What was she going to do? He obviously expected to stay in her suite, but as far as she was concerned everything was different now.
‘Here’s the thing,’ she said, waves of guilt washing over her. ‘I totally forgot. Cookie’s dad has a show at The Cavendish, and I promised to go. Sorry – can’t bale.’
Ace shook his head as if he didn’t quite believe her. ‘That’s a drag,’ he said, scratching his chin.
‘I know,’ she apologized, realizing that she was acting like such a phony. ‘But what can I do?’
‘You could say you’re busy,