Goddess of Vengeance (17 page)

‘I suppose we should drag our asses up to the house,’ Billy said.

‘I guess,’ she said, worrying about what kind of devastation she’d find.

‘I’d better warn you – you’re not gonna be thrilled,’ Billy said, leaping to his feet and helping her up.

‘Is anyone still there?’

‘A coupla strays.’

She hoped the strays were Cookie and Harry, but she doubted it. Knowing them, they’d both taken off and left her to deal.

‘Is it a mess?’

‘You’d better believe.’

‘What am I gonna do?’ she groaned. ‘How am I gonna fix it?’

‘Don’t sweat it.’

‘Well,’ she said, searching for a solution, ‘at least the housekeepers are coming back at noon.’

‘Gonna take more than a couple of maids to fix this,’ Billy said, shaking his head.

‘You think?’ she asked nervously.

‘Come on,’ he said, pulling her toward the steps that led up to the house. ‘I’ve already called my manager – he’s gettin’ a crew over here.’

‘You can’t do that,’ she said, frowning. ‘I’ve got to keep this under the radar.’

‘Don’t worry, my manager’s a cool dude, nobody’s gonna know whose house it is.’

‘You’re
sure?
’ she asked, certain that somehow or other she was going to get busted. Oh God! The wrath of Lucky and Lennie didn’t bear thinking about.

‘’Course I’m sure.’

Billy’s amazing
, she thought, gazing up at him.
He won’t let me down. He’s definitely a take-charge kinda dude, unlike Ace, who’s always vacillating about what he’s going to do with his life.

Still . . . Ace had been her on-again off-again boyfriend for eighteen months, and now she would have to break up with him for sure. She liked him, she’d just never liked him enough for him to be The One. The truth was that even if she never saw Billy again, she was glad he’d turned out to be The One. It was super karma.

As they reached the top of the steps and approached the once immaculate pool area, she let out a gasp of horror. ‘Oh my
God
!’ she yelled, trying to control a sudden rush of panic. ‘They’ve trashed my house!’

A trail of destruction surrounded the pool. There were overturned loungers, overflowing ashtrays, cigarette butts stamped out on the marble surround by the pool, empty firework boxes everywhere, plus scorch marks on some of the sun umbrellas. Not to mention crushed beer cans, broken bottles, half-eaten burgers, cartons of French fries, tomato ketchup spilled everywhere, and trash, trash, trash.

The pool resembled a garbage dump. What hadn’t ended up around it was in it. A mass of floating debris.

‘Lucky’s going to
kill
me,’ Max wailed. ‘She’ll freaking
murder
me!’

‘Stay cool,’ Billy said, in charge and liking it. ‘It’ll all be taken care of.’

Venus had
never
let him take charge, she’d had ‘people’ to do everything. This situation was refreshing, made him feel manly and useful.

‘When?’ Max demanded, thinking of all the ways she could be punished. ‘How?’

‘They’re on their way,’ Billy assured her.

‘
Who’s
on their way?’

‘I told you, I called my manager. A cleaning crew will be here any minute.’

‘You think?’ she said, forcing herself to calm down because she had no wish for him to perceive her as a hysterical kid, that would really be lame. After all, he was used to being with Venus – who was not only a worldwide superstar, but the epitome of cool – even though she was old. Well, not exactly old, but certainly older than him.

‘It’s a done deal,’ he said easily. ‘So calm down.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her over to the outside bar where they perched on two tall bar stools.

‘I’m uh . . . going to Vegas later today,’ Max blurted. ‘Lucky’s throwing me a birthday party on Saturday.’

‘No shit?’ he said, picking up a half-full bottle of Evian and taking a long swig.

‘It’s not what I want,’ she said quickly. ‘Not at all.’

‘No more parties for you, huh?’ he said, thinking what a knockout she was with her dark curly hair, olive skin, and brilliant green eyes. So different from Venus, who was all seductive blonde perfection and well-toned muscles.

But she was young – too young?

Hell no, he was Billy Melina, he could hook up with anyone he wanted.

‘Absolutely not,’ she said, shaking her head. Then after taking a long beat she added, ‘I don’t suppose . . .’ Trailing off, she looked at him expectantly.

He caught her drift and hurriedly said, ‘Sorry – no. Much as I’d like to be there for you, it ain’t gonna happen.’
No way, babe. Are you kidding? Lucky would have my balls for breakfast.

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘I get it,’ she sighed.

And then she thought –
But there’s no way I’m giving up on Billy Melina.

No way at all.

*   *   *

Once a year Lucky planned a board meeting for all her original investors, hopefully a celebration of how well The Keys was doing in such a downward economy. Generally Vegas had taken a big hit, but not The Keys – oh no, business was on an upward spiral.

The day before the meeting she gathered a group of her key executives who early on had each received shares in her company. Being part of the process was the biggest incentive of all, and everyone appreciated Lucky’s generosity. She’d learned from Gino that making people who worked for her feel like part of a family group was a key move. Actually it was something she enjoyed; personal interaction couldn’t be beat for creating a loyal group of executives who were always there for her.

A lunchtime gathering took place on one of the flower-filled outdoor patios, where Lucky made sure to have a one-on-one conversation with each individual. She had the knack of not only remembering everyone’s name, but she also knew the names of their spouses, kids, and family pets if they had any. Lucky was much adored by the people who worked for her. They were extremely dedicated; they too strived for The Keys to be the best it could be.

As Lucky moved between groups, stories were exchanged about difficult guests, high rollers who weren’t worth the trouble they caused, con artists, stars and their egos, jewellery thieves, card sharks, petty criminals, fake identities, and beautiful women passing themselves off as high society – when in fact they were highly expensive call girls. All Vegas hotels and casinos suffered from the same proliferation of scammers, but Lucky liked to think her security team worked at the top of their game. She enjoyed hearing the stories, always interesting, sometimes bizarre, often hard to believe.

Jerrod, her Head of Security, was the best. Formerly a captain in the Israeli army, nothing and no one got past him.

Jerrod was Lucky’s rock and, like Danny, she trusted him implicitly.

*   *   *

Oh my God! What have I done?
Denver thought, panicking slightly.

You’ve invited Bobby to meet the family
, her inner voice replied, unruffled and in control.

Why?
she asked herself, still panicking.

Because you know it’s time.

The problem is – will they like him? And will he like them?

You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?

Fortunately she was due in court to prosecute a famous actress who was up on a shoplifting charge, so she didn’t have much time to think about Bobby and her somewhat eccentric family. But she was anxious all the same; she so wanted them to like him.

And they will.

What if they don’t?

Stop obsessing.

On her way into court she got a text from Carolyn asking what she thought of Vanessa.

Hmm . . . interesting question, but she had no time to give her opinion of Vanessa now. She had a high-profile shoplifting case to win, a family dinner to worry about, and an upcoming trip to Vegas.

Briskly she texted back.
Seems nice.
But she didn’t add
or not
. Had to keep a positive attitude. It was Carolyn’s life.

Then she dived into court with work on her mind.

*   *   *

Now that his slippery Russian investors had finally signed on to put up the money for his L.A. and Miami clubs, Bobby was more than ready to meet the architects and designers he’d chosen to work with. Mood in L.A. had to be a total winner considering the fierce competition. Clubs in L.A. came and went all the time, so Mood had to stand out as
the
place to be.

Bobby’s vision was of a roof-top space with panoramic views of the city, incorporating a sixty-foot pool with underwater speakers, a forty-foot stone bar surrounded by a dozen private party cabanas, a kick-ass restaurant run by a world-class chef, a major dance space – and all with a tropical feel. Simple, stylish, the perfect hang.

The meetings took longer than expected, and he was so caught up in the details that when he checked the time he realized he’d never make his flight.

Damn! Denver was not going to be happy, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Too bad. He’d been looking forward to finally meeting her family.

Chapter Eighteen

T
he cleaning crew went to work like the well-oiled team of professionals they were.

Billy threw Max a triumphant look and said, ‘Y’see? They’re taking care of business. No worries.’

She had to admit he was right, they were fast and thorough. By the time the housekeepers arrived back, things were looking a lot better. Although once the women figured out what had taken place, they threw Max contemptuous looks and muttered under their breath because they knew if anything important was broken or missing, it was them who would get the blame.

Fortunately Billy spoke a smattering of Spanish, so he moved into action and charmed them into a hypnotized state, then made them assure him they would not utter a word of this to Max’s parents. After he was sure they understood, he handed each of them five hundred bucks as insurance.

Max was impressed. He was protecting her, which was more than she could say for Cookie and Harry – who’d obviously both taken off without a thought about how she was going to put the place back together. Man, they were totally selfish! She had a good mind to rescind their Vegas invitation. How dare they run out on her.

Or . . . maybe they’d tried to find her and couldn’t, which was a possibility because she’d been sequestered on the beach with Billy.

But, if that was the case, shouldn’t they have been worried about her?

On the missing list and nobody gave a rat’s ass.

Whatever . . .

Shortly after two, Billy glanced at his watch and muttered, ‘Shit!’

‘What?’ Max asked, still basking in the glow of his company. They’d been sitting in the kitchen where she’d fixed him a tuna fish sandwich while they’d watched the cleaning crew finish up. It was all good – in fact, it was all totally awesome.

‘I’ve kinda blown off a big interview with
Rolling Stone
,’ he announced. ‘My PR’s gonna be so pissed.’

‘Does that mean you have to go?’ Max asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

‘Yeah, but I guess I can turn up late. What’re they going to do – shoot me?’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Problem is, I don’t got a ride.’

‘I’ll drive you,’ she said, quick as a flash.

‘Nah,’ he said, with a casual shrug. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

‘Why would you do that?’ she asked, determined to hang onto him as long as possible, because who knew when she’d ever see him again? ‘Don’t you trust my driving?’

‘’Course I do, babe. But if I ain’t in the driver’s seat then I’m your front-seat passenger from hell. Believe me, you’d hate it.’

She was beginning to feel slightly desperate. ‘How about if
you
drive?’ she offered. ‘That way, I’ll be the one sitting in the passenger seat.’

Too needy, Max, calm down! Stop sounding like a stalker.

‘Wouldn’t work out,’ he said. ‘I gotta get my ass straight to the interview. It’s at the Sunset Towers, an’ driving up with you in the car is not an option.’

‘Okay then,’ she said, coming up with a plan that would assure her of seeing more of him. ‘You can take Lucky’s Ferrari, and I’ll pick it up from you later.’

‘C’
mon
,’ Billy said disbelievingly. ‘There’s no way Lucky would want me driving her car.’

‘She wouldn’t mind,’ Max lied, knowing full well that Lucky had a thing about her precious Ferrari, so much so that she wouldn’t even leave it with a valet parker. ‘I drive it all the time,’ she added. ‘Believe me, Lucky hardly ever uses it.’

Big fat fib, but hey – this was an emergency.

‘You’re sure about that?’ Billy said, still hesitating.

‘Dead sure,’ Max said convincingly.

‘Then it’s a deal,’ he said, being a big fan of fast cars, ever since Venus had bought him his first Ferrari, which he’d recently sold. ‘Only how’re you gonna pick it up if you’re flying to Vegas today?’

Darn it!
She’d forgotten all about Vegas and her upcoming party.