The Santangelos

by Jackie Collins

  Willow remained cool and in control, even though she was ready to rant and rave about how dumb Alejandro was. The truth was that she’d always known he was dumb, only this crap took his dumbness to new heights. “We could do that,” she said, trying not to grit her teeth. “Can she act?”

  “Who cares?” Alejandro chortled. “Look at her.”

  She looks like a sulky little teenager to me, Willow thought. Selena Gomez with a splash of Mila Kunis.

  Willow managed a smile and bobbed her head as if she agreed with him. If Alejandro was about to develop a crush on this little nobody, then maybe she should pay some attention to his shady foreign friend.

  “So,” she purred, flinging back her pale red hair and turning to Dante. “Tell me all about what you and Alejandro got up to in college. I bet you were a couple of real super-studs, ready to do anything.”

  Dante zeroed in on Alejandro’s girlfriend. He was getting nowhere with Max, and it seemed to him that this one had potential.

  “There is nothing Alejandro and I didn’t do,” he said, removing her clothes with his small evil eyes. “In Vegas you and I should experience everything. Do you agree?”

  Willow smiled politely. There was something about this dude that was a total turnoff, and she had no intention of experiencing anything with him.

  “When are we leaving?” she whispered, grabbing Alejandro’s arm.

  “One more drink,” he promised. “Then we will be on our way.”

  One more drink. In Alejandro’s world it was always one more drink.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  Denver was in the mood to let it all out, and Sam was the perfect listener. On the day he’d dropped off Lady Gaga, she hadn’t invited him in. Now it was a couple of days later—the night before Gino’s funeral—and she was feeling vulnerable and alone, so she called him and invited him over.

  Before she made the call, a thought came to her that maybe she should attend Gino’s funeral to pay her respects. She’d texted Bobby to ask him if she should—it was the first time they’d been in contact since the split. His answer was short and to the point. “Not a good idea,” he’d texted back. And that was it.

  Yes, they were definitely over.

  The day before, she’d received a call from his business manager, who’d informed her that Bobby would like her to keep the house as a gift. “No thank you,” she’d said. “I’ll be moving out next week.”

  Ah, Bobby … generous as usual.

  She didn’t need his house as some kind of payoff. She didn’t need anything from him.

  Sam arrived carrying two bottles of wine and a pizza.

  Lady Gaga jumped to attention, frantically attempting to hump his leg.

  “How’s my favorite district attorney?” he asked, fending off the rambunctious puppy with a gentle shove.

  “I’m okay, actually. Especially since I think I see pizza in my future. Your instincts are so right on.”

  Sam grinned, displaying his crooked teeth.

  “I know you live in L.A. now,” Denver remarked, checking out his smile. “Only promise me that you’ll never get your teeth fixed.”

  Sam’s grin widened. “What makes you think I’d ever do that?”

  “’Cause L.A. is the city of perfection.”

  “In that case you’re perfect enough for both of us,” he said, following her into the kitchen.

  “No compliments. Please,” she said, immediately feeling vulnerable.

  “Howszatt?”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Ah, but she is in the mood for pizza and wine,” he said, still grinning. “Such a gourmet combination.”

  “Yet somehow you knew it’s exactly what I wanted.”

  “I don’t only write scripts, I read minds too.”

  Denver gave a wan smile. Sam had a habit of making things seem normal.

  “Okay,” he said, reaching for an opener. “I’ll open the wine while you micro the pizza. After that we’ll sit down and you can tell me everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Whatever you feel like, Denver. I’m an excellent listener.”

  * * *

  “What kinda girl you lookin’ for?” M.J. questioned as he raced his Maserati down the highway heading for Vegas.

  “Who’s looking?” Bobby replied, leaning back in the passenger seat. “I’m done with being tied down.”

  “You enjoyed it while it was happenin’,” M.J. pointed out, shooting him a knowing look.

  “That’s not the kind of tied down I was talking about,” Bobby quipped.

  “Funny.”

  “How about you? You ever miss being with one woman?”

  “No way, man,” M.J. said, vigorously shaking his head. “Freedom is where it’s at. There’s a whole world of pussy out there, an’ I’m takin’ my time.”

  “Yeah. I guess,” Bobby said, gazing thoughtfully out the side window. Days had passed and he’d almost come to terms with breaking up with Denver. Unfortunately, there was always that lingering doubt when a relationship ended. Were they making the right decision? Because it wasn’t just him; obviously Denver had reached the same conclusion.

  He had to admit that he missed her laugh, and the way she snuggled up to him in bed, wrapping her long legs around him, making him feel safe and secure. He missed their conversations; she was a girl who actually knew what was going on in the world and could converse on any subject. He missed the smell of her hair when she’d just washed it, and the way she always seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

  He did not miss her work ethic—pursuing the son of a dangerous drug lord was all she’d talked about for the last few months. Things had finally come to a head when she’d arrested Frankie Romano. Oh sure, he’d known that Frankie was a bad boy, but Denver hadn’t been prepared to cut Frankie any slack. She was all about locking him up. They’d argued furiously about it, then Bobby had taken off for Chicago and things had imploded.

  He’d truly thought Denver was the girl he was going to marry—he’d even bought an engagement ring to give her when the time was right.

  Now it was over. No more a couple.

  He gave a wry laugh.

  “Wassup?” M.J. asked.

  “I was just thinking,” Bobby said. “You know anyone who’s in the market for a secondhand engagement ring?”

  M.J. burst out laughing. “You’re gonna be okay, bro,” he said. “We need t’ get you laid, an’ somehow I gotta hunch that’s not gonna be a problem.”

  * * *

  Denver wasn’t sure whether she wanted Sam to stay the night. She’d just broken up with Bobby, and surely starting things up with another man wasn’t the coolest move in the world?

  Yet Sam was there, he was understanding, he made no demands. He didn’t even complain when she spent half an hour on the phone with Leon, planning their next move as far as Alejandro Diego was concerned.

  Once Frankie had started talking, he’d unleashed a whole lot of information. They had more than enough to put Alejandro away, but catching him in the act of accepting a shipment or selling drugs on his premises was imperative to their case.

  Sonia, their undercover agent, had not managed to hook up with Alejandro himself, although over the last few days she’d spent enough time at Club Luna to be able to report on Alejandro’s movements. She’d gotten friendly with one of the bartenders, and according to him, Alejandro had taken off to Vegas for the night—which gave her the opportunity to nose around even more. Leon told her it would be a big bonus if she could get the layout of Alejandro’s private office and take photos. “I’ll try,” she’d said.

  Currently Sonia was still at the club, and she’d assured Leon that she would check in with him later. Leon had relayed this information to Denver, who was now trying to relax and make the most of her time with Sam.

  “You always ply me with too much wine,” Denver murmured.

  “I’m not forcing you to drink it,” Sam said, amused. “You’re the one
chugging it down.”

  “I’m hardly chugging it down,” she said indignantly.

  “One and a half bottles later—of course you’re not.”

  “Oh, and I suppose you haven’t drunk anything?”

  “One glass. My deal is staying in control.”

  “I’m the prosecutor,” she said, realizing that she’d probably drunk far too much and that wasn’t cool. “I’m the one in control,” she added grandly.

  “Sure you are,” he replied with a good-natured grin.

  “I think you’re right,” she muttered, falling back against the soft cushions on the couch. “I might’ve had a tiny bit too much wine, and that’s okay, ’cause I’m finally celebrating.”

  “And the celebration would be about you and Bobby breaking up?” Sam asked hopefully.

  “No, silly. It’s ’cause next week we finally get to nail Alejandro Diego.”

  “You do?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but we have everything in place to nail him good.”

  “That’s a coup, right?”

  “It sure is. One more sleazebag off the streets.”

  “How’d this happen?”

  “Can’t tell you. Privileged information,” she mumbled, suppressing a ladylike hiccough. “I’ve told you more than I should.”

  “I’m still writing that script about the smart, feisty DA,” Sam said. “Any inside information is more than welcome.”

  “Well, you’re not getting anything out of me,” she said, making a sudden attempt to stand. And when she did, the room began to spin, and she found herself reaching out to Sam for support.

  He caught her before she tripped and fell.

  “I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” he said, as Lady Gaga barked excitedly.

  “And … I think…” she said softly, leaning close to him, “that’s only gonna happen if you care to join me.”

  “That’s what you think, huh?”

  “That’s what I know.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Stop stalling. I’m quite sure.”

  They made it into the bedroom, where Denver collapsed on the bed.

  “You’ve had too much to drink,” Sam pointed out. “I’m not taking advantage of you.”

  “And he’s such a good guy,” Denver sighed, kicking off her shoes. “Come here, good guy, before I change my mind.”

  “I’m only human,” Sam groaned.

  “Yes,” Denver agreed. “And so am I.”

  Within moments he was on top of her and they were rolling around locked in a passionate embrace. Denver was well aware that she’d had too much wine, but she didn’t care. She needed Sam. She needed him to fill her up with unconditional love.

  Sam was her future, and she was with him all the way.

  * * *

  The lights of Vegas glittered in the distance.

  “This,” Bobby said, staring straight ahead, “is why I always prefer driving to Vegas. Gotta love the view.”

  “I get it,” M.J. said, nodding his agreement. “From a freakin’ barren desert straight into the mouth of the neon city. Can’t beat it.”

  “The first time I saw Vegas at night, I was a kid asleep in the back of my mom’s Ferrari,” Bobby reminisced. “Lucky pulled over to the side of the road and woke me up. ‘Take a look, kiddo. It’s a sight you’ll never forget,’ she told me. And yeah—she was so right.”

  “Lucky’s the greatest,” M.J. enthused. “She never changes. She’s always on top of everything, always relevant.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Bobby responded.

  “Guess she’s gonna miss Gino big-time.”

  “That goes for everyone,” Bobby said, once more thinking about Gino’s murder, and the son of a bitch who’d raised his gun and blown Gino away.

  He would track the bastard down with or without Lucky. It was a given.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” Alex Woods said accusingly, standing up as Lucky approached his table.

  “Avoiding you how?” she asked, plucking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray.

  “Ever since Gino’s murder, I haven’t been able to reach you.”

  “It’s nothing personal,” she said quietly. “I’ve hardly spoken to anyone.”

  “I’m not just anyone,” Alex said gruffly, remembering the one time they’d been together when Lennie was missing and she’d thought her husband was dead. It was a memory he could never erase.

  “I know,” she said softly. “I did receive your flowers and your messages. Much appreciated.”

  “C’mon, Lucky,” he said, fixing her with a penetrating look. “It’s me, Alex. We’ve shared too much in the past for you to shut me out when I know you need me.”

  “I need you to be my friend,” she said, wishing he’d let it go. “Nothing else.”

  “Yeah, that’s ’cause you’ve got Lennie,” Alex said with a resentful scowl. “It’s always about Lennie.”

  “Could be because he’s my husband,” she answered coolly.

  “Anyway,” Alex said, giving her another long meaningful look. “How’re you really doing? Help me out here, ’cause I’m one of the few who care enough to hear the truth.”

  “I’m getting through it,” she said, meeting his intent gaze. “Staying strong. It’s what Gino would’ve expected of me.”

  “Gino couldn’t’ve loved you more.”

  “It took him a while to tell me, but yes, I do know that.”

  “Gino was quite the guy. He was a man’s man.”

  “So tell me about you,” she said, quickly moving on. “Still working your ass off?”

  “Making movies isn’t work, it’s my passion.”

  She wondered if she should share her idea to incorporate a movie studio into the new complex. Then she decided this wasn’t the appropriate moment. Besides, Lennie might not be thrilled if she involved Alex in any way. Lennie claimed he wasn’t jealous, but she suspected he was.

  “Isn’t it time you thought about settling down and marrying one of your girlfriends?” she suggested.

  “Like Ling?” Alex said sarcastically. “You gotta remember Ling. She was that insane bitch who attempted to shoot you.”

  “I was kind of thinking of someone a little more together,” Lucky said, indicating the exquisite Asian girl sitting at the table patiently waiting for Alex to return to her side. “This one looks to be a likely candidate.”

  “I think not,” Alex said, vigorously shaking his head.

  “How come?”

  “Maybe ’cause she’s the biggest porn star in Asia,” he said, cracking a sly smile. “They call her the Asian Open.”

  Lucky started to laugh. Only Alex could make her laugh at a time like this.

  * * *

  “I still don’t understand why we can’t fly to Vegas,” Max muttered to Dante as they made their way to Club Luna’s underground garage in Alejandro’s private elevator.

  “I told you,” Dante answered, tightly gripping her arm. “It’s possible we do business with Alejandro. He is about to make an important movie, and we might partner up for a big advertising campaign. Besides, he wishes to drive his new car.”

  “I thought you told me he had a driver?” Max said, pulling her arm away.

  “He does. Tonight he chooses to drive himself.”

  “He’s been drinking,” Max stated, wishing she was somewhere else and not caught up in this predicament.

  “Stop being such a baby,” Dante admonished. “When we were roommates in college we drove to Vegas every weekend stoned out of our heads. Alejandro can do the drive with his eyes closed.”

  “Awesome,” Max said in a low voice, shooting Willow a wary look. She’d already decided that the redhead wasn’t the most friendly of girls, although it was obvious that Willow considered herself a star. A couple of years back, Max remembered seeing her in a movie with Billy. She couldn’t help wondering if they’d slept together.

&n
bsp; Had Billy climbed into bed with the slender actress?

  Had he made love to her?

  Willow was pretty enough in a Hollywood starlet kind of way, and she was definitely into flaunting her assets—nipples on display under a floaty top, her ass barely covered by an ultrashort leather skirt.

  Max attempted a couple of friendly overtures. Willow immediately shut her down with a blank stare.

  Great, Max thought. Stuck in a car with this piece of work for the next few hours. Fun times.

  She swallowed hard, suppressing a desire to make a run for it, to just take off and find her own way to Vegas.

  But how could she? Getting there was of prime importance, and right now sticking with the group seemed like her only option.

  She took out her phone and texted Cookie again. On our way. Driving. Don’t wait up. Breakfast in the a.m. Can’t wait to catch up.

  * * *

  Extracting herself from Alex’s lustful gaze, Lucky made it over to the family table, where Steven was talking to Brigette and her Swedish girlfriend. Since changing tracks and moving to Sweden, Brigette seemed much happier. She’d had a difficult life, always hooking up with losers who’d treated her badly, even marrying one of them. She’d once had a successful modeling career, which she’d given up. Now she painted, wrote poetry, and lived a simple life—even though as Dimitri Stanislopoulos’s granddaughter, like Bobby, she was heir to a great fortune.

  Lucky gave her a hug and told her that Bobby was on his way.

  “Uncle Bobby,” Brigette said, with a big smile. It was their private joke that even though Bobby was much younger than she was, as Dimitri’s son, he was indeed her uncle. “I’m dying to see him. It’s been a while.”

  “He recently broke up with his girlfriend,” Lucky said, lowering her voice. “So do me a favor and watch out for Venus. She’s always had a thing for Bobby, and I don’t want her pouncing on him.”

  “Of course, Madame Lucky,” Brigette said, mock-saluting. “I will be happy to act as the Bobby police.”

  Steven got to his feet. “Don’t know about everyone else, but I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Gotta think about what I’m going to say tomorrow.”