In a Heartbeat - Elizabeth Adler [90]
As he looked down on his vast oceanfront property, he thought how little pleasure it gave him. And how much pleasure the Monster deal would give him. That is, when he had completed his part of the bargain.
50
Lila Aramanov could not figure out why her husband was so obsessed with the news these days. He even ate in front of the TV, alone in the family room, dismissing the kids with a harsh go away, or play, why can’t you, or haven’t I bought you enough toys, for Chrissakes.
Lila hovered by the door, watching him switch channels, jumpy as a Halloween cat. She could swear he caught every newscast. Sighing, she decided this was her moment to tackle him on the subject, find out what was wrong, get him to share his feelings with her.
Gus was sitting in his usual chair in front of the sixty-inch TV set. A ham-and-Swiss on a kaiser roll, piled high with tomato and onion—despite Lila’s refined comments about what the onion did to his breath—lay discarded on a plate on the floor. She noticed he had taken only a couple of bites. And next to the plate stood a line of empty Bud cans, which had now been replaced with Smirnoff vodka, which he was drinking from the bottle. Things were definitely not good.
She came up behind him, wound her arms around him, nuzzling his big neck. “What’s happened to my big teddy bear?” she whined. “He’s gone away from his little toy girl, left her all alone and lonely.”
Gus switched from NBC to Headline News. “Aw, for Chrissakes, leave me alone, why don’t ya” was his surly reply.
Lila flung away from him as though she had been stung. “So what the hell’s the matter with you?” She ran her French-manicured fingers distractedly through her stiffly sprayed bright-blonde hair, for once not caring that it stuck up ridiculously instead of settling in its usual carefully fluffed-out mop. “Y’know what, Gus Aramanov? You’re just not the same guy you used to be.”
Gus didn’t even turn from the TV to look at her. “Thanks for sharing that with me. Sweetheart,” he added maliciously.
“So what’s with the nerves? The depression? The bad temper? You even vent on the kids.” Her eyes filled with tears, remembering the way things used to be. “Poor innocent babies,” she sobbed.
“Lila, just give it a rest, why don’t ya.” Gus leaned forward, suddenly intent as the news-caster mentioned Ed Vincent.
“Mr. Vincent is still in a coma. It has been over a week now and doctors report no improvement in his condition. Meanwhile, the perpetrator . . .”
“Y’don’t even listen to me anymore,” Lila yelled, frantic.
“Shuddup, Lila.” He turned up the volume.
“. . . or perpetrators, are still at large. The police say the investigation is proceeding as normal.”
“Bastard!” Lila screamed. She flounced out and up the white-carpeted stairs. In their pink master bedroom, she grabbed her night things, snatched up her favorite pillow, and headed for the guest room. The miserable bastard could sleep alone tonight. Forever, for all she cared.
The guest-room door slammed forcefully, rattling windows, but Gus did not even notice. He was frantic. De Soto was not a man to pussyfoot around. And his message had been blunt and to the point.
51
Harriet Simons had just dropped Mel off at LAX, en route once more for New York and Ed. Now she was on the 405 heading north.
It was tough, she thought, juggling three jobs at once, but she was coping. First and foremost came Riley, though sometimes Harriet felt that clever little Riley was looking after Harriet instead of the other way around. It was a pleasure, not a job, but it was also time-consuming. Who knew how mothers got through the days, she marveled as she maneuvered the big silver truck through the surging morning traffic.
She was on her way to her second job, packing up a condo in Marina del Rey prior to moving the stuff the following day to Santa Monica. An easy job, as jobs went, and