Hmm … I’m excited at the thought.
Olympia is hovering poolside. “Get out of the pool,” she squeals. “We need to talk.”
“Not if you’re stoned,” I respond.
“What?” Olympia says, as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“Lately you’re always stoned,” I point out. “Warris has got you on a diet of weed, and let me tell you—it’s made you major boring.”
“Thanks a lot,” Olympia huffs. “Maybe you’re jealous ’cause I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“So’ve I,” I shoot back.
“Ha!” Olympia says. “That kid who was over here yesterday?”
“That kid is way older than both of us,” I say, getting out of the pool and grabbing a towel.
“I prefer me a real man,” Olympia sniffs. “Someone who can teach me something.”
“You’re so full of it,” I fume. She’s really annoying, and it infuriates me that she’s only decided to speak to me because Warris isn’t around, he’s busy taking an afternoon nap. “Y’know,” I say, thinking it’s about time I tell her how I feel. “Lately you’ve been acting like a real bitch.”
Olympia tosses back her blonde hair and glares at me, her blue eyes full of spite. “You’re still such a baby,” she sneers. “You simply don’t get it.”
“Oh, I get it all right,” I retaliate. “Some random dude comes along, and that’s it for our friendship. Why have a best friend when a guy’ll do so much better?”
“That’s not true.”
“Take a look at yourself, it’s totally true. This was supposed to be our adventure. Not joined at the hip with sleazy Warris and his would-be movie-star girlfriend.”
“Pippa is so not his girlfriend.”
“Then what were the three of you doing in bed together?” I demand. “Playing tennis?”
“God!” Olympia exclaims. “You’re such a little prude.”
“No, I’m not,” I argue. “I’m smart, a lot smarter than you. I can see through people. Warris is a user and you should open your eyes, ’cause he’s using you big-time.”
Before Olympia can answer, it starts to rain, a light rain at first, but as it gets heavier we both make a dash inside.
I turn to face Olympia. “I’m thinking of leaving,” I say.
“Go ahead,” Olympia snaps, not even one bit concerned. “If you’re so bloody miserable it’s probably for the best.”
And with that she stalks off to the master bedroom to join her lover, leaving me to plan my next move.
Yes, once Pippa gets back with the car, I am definitely taking it and driving to Juan-les-Pins to hang out with Jon. He can help me decide what to do, and hopefully he’ll suggest that I move in with him.
Sounds like the perfect plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Once Dimitri received word of Olympia’s credit card purchases, leaving a trail from Paris to the South of France—mostly at gas stations and convenience stores—he and Gino headed for the airport and a private plane. Dimitri had a hunch he knew exactly where they’d be: He figured they’d hide out at his sister’s house above Cannes—Olympia had always loved it there. The advantage of owning your own plane is that it is on call anytime you need it, so Dimitri always had his on standby. Why not? He was never sure when he would feel like taking off and going somewhere. Rome, Venice, New York, London. Best to be prepared. Dimitri was a man who enjoyed acting on a whim.
Tracking down teenagers was not exactly the whim he had in mind, but it seemed that it had to be done.
Gino, on the other hand, preferred things organized. He had not planned on flying to Europe on a wild chase to track down Lucky. This trip was out of his comfort zone, and he realized that he should’ve brought Costa with him—he was annoyed that he hadn’t. Costa, along with his wife, Jen, was always the voice of reason, the calming influence. They were family—the family Gino had never had. Ah yes, once there had been the beautiful Maria, the wife he’d cherished and adored, the mother of his children, the keeper of his heart. However, Maria had been taken from him in such a vile and brutal way. A way he would never forget.
He still mourned her death; he had not yet learned to celebrate her life.
Now Lucky had put this stress on him. He didn’t need it. He didn’t need to be traveling halfway across the world for the second time, to bring home his child. Lucky might think she was all grown up, but the truth was she was still just a child, with no thought of the consequences of her behavior. Damn her! He was furious, yet at the same time relieved that she was with a friend and not running around on her own.
The two men sipped large tumblers of scotch while they discussed the difficulties of raising daughters without a permanent female presence. It was the one thing that they both had in common.
“My ex-wife doesn’t seem to care what Olympia gets up to,” Dimitri complained. “She’s too busy roaming the world in search of the latest beauty treatments, or some transient stud willing to spend my money.”
Gino nodded. He understood. Of all the girlfriends he’d had come and go since Maria’s untimely death, none of them had been remotely interested in bonding with his daughter. He’d relied on housekeepers and private tutors—and possibly that was his mistake, for now he had a wild child on his hands, a girl who obviously had no intention of staying in school.
“Lucky is very willful,” Gino said. “She didn’t used to be, but since I sent her away to boarding school…” He trailed off. Was Lucky acting out because she thought he’d abandoned her?
No.
Maybe?
Perhaps he should have been paying more attention to her.
“Here’s what we should do,” Dimitri said, only half joking. “Marry them off. Make them somebody else’s problem.”
Gino nodded again. Not a bad idea. Why hadn’t he thought of it? Maybe that was exactly what Lucky needed. An arranged marriage. It wasn’t such a bizarre idea at all.
Shortly before landing, Dimitri received a message that turned his craggy features ashen.
Gino sensed trouble. “What’s the problem?” he demanded.
Dimitri spoke in low tones. “My people have tracked the Mercedes,” he said. “It was involved in an accident. The car is a write-off. And behind the wheel the police found the body of an unidentified female.”
Gino felt his world collapse around him.
Was the female Lucky?
Was his daughter dead?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It’s almost five o’clock and no Pippa, although what we do have is a downpour of nonstop rain and howling winds. It seems as if the entire house is rattling. I’ve already packed my bag in anticipation of Pippa’s return. Quite frankly, I can’t wait to get out of here. Olympia and Warris are running around the house removing the few remaining dustsheets covering the furniture and preparing for a party. I can’t stand either of them, and I’m certainly not about to help. It’s not my party.
I can hear Warris complaining about Pippa. “That woman is always late,” he bitches. “Knowing Pippa, she’ll probably turn up with everything a few minutes before the guests.”
“Do we know who the guests are?” Olympia asks, hopeful that among them there will be a movie star or two. Olympia is a bit of a fame groupie.
“People with money,” Warris replies confidently. “Big-time investors.” He pauses for a moment—then—“You can tell ’em who your father is, it won’t hurt for them to know you’re a Stanislopoulos. And you gotta flirt a bit, keep ’em happy.”
What a pimp! I hate him more every day.
“Help me choose what to wear,” Olympia pleads, oblivious to the fact that she’s living with a snake.
“Something low cut and sexy,” Warris replies. “Show off your tits.”
She’s sixteen, dude, and you’re an asshole.
“You gotta sex it up, doll,” Warris continues, getting into it. “You gotta get ’em all excited.”
And with those words ringing in th
e air, the two of them zoom off to raid her aunt’s closet.
I realize that Olympia is totally clueless when it comes to Warris, and unfortunately there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
* * *
Time passes. The rain gets stronger, so does the wind. Darkness creeps in and it’s now almost seven o’clock.
No Pippa. No Mercedes. No food, music, or incredible flowers. No party.
I can hear Warris and Olympia arguing. I shut the door to my room and wait.
Where is Pippa, party-planner supreme? Where’s the freaking car so that I can get out of here? Why have I allowed myself to get trapped like this?
I am mad at myself for doing so, but how was I to know that Olympia would turn out to be so selfish?
I wish I was older. I wish I had my own money, or at least a credit card like Olympia. When I’d asked Gino, he’d informed me that I didn’t need one.
Why not, Daddy Dearest? Why the hell not?
I’m worried about pushing myself on Jon with nothing to support myself with.
Hmm … maybe I can be a waitress at the café Jon works at; I’m sure he can swing it so they hire me. Now that would be one cool trip, working together side by side. I like it!
Lucky Santangelo. Waitress.
Not quite the start I’d envisioned for myself, but I guess it will have to do for now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Once they landed at Nice Airport, Dimitri and Gino immediately transferred to a private helicopter. Gino wasn’t fond of helicopters, especially in such foul weather. The wind was roaring and the rain teeming down, but he boarded anyway. It wouldn’t do to appear weak in front of Dimitri, and besides, he was desperate to find out who the female body in the car was. Olympia or Lucky? Jesus Christ. He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. If it was Lucky, he would never forgive himself. Since Maria’s murder he’d been so careful to make sure she was protected at all times. Obviously he’d failed. He recalled the last time he’d seen his daughter—it was at the New York apartment, an awkward dinner for two. Lucky had protested about being sent off to another school, but what was he supposed to do? She needed discipline, so boarding school it was. He was only doing what he thought was best for her.
The following morning Lucky had been picked up by limo and spirited off to her new school in Connecticut. He hadn’t gone with her. He was still mad about Switzerland and her bedtime adventure with some nameless boy. She was fifteen years old, for chrissake. Her behavior was out of control.
Now he regretted his coldness. Surely he should’ve spent more time with her, tried to discover the reason she was rebelling?
Too late now. Too damn late.
* * *
After the helicopter landed in Cannes, a car drove Gino and Dimitri directly to the morgue. Both men entered with heavy hearts, dreading what they might find. They were met by two French detectives and a morgue assistant who escorted them to a room where they were asked to identify the body.
Gino attempted to remain calm. If the body from the car was Lucky, would he ever get over it?
No. Never.
And if the body was Olympia, then where was Lucky?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
This is beyond ridiculous. I am so fed up and at a loss as to what to do next. Warris and Olympia have given up on all thoughts of a party and returned to the master bedroom, where I can clearly hear them getting it on. Squeals and grunts and the occasional “Oh yeees, more please!” Is there anything worse than listening to other people making out? I think not.
It’s quite obvious that Pippa has absconded with the Mercedes and has no intention of ever returning. Which means I am stuck, well and truly stuck.
I am totally pissed off until suddenly—like a miracle—I see the lights of a car approaching up the driveway, and I am filled with relief. Pippa is back, and I’m getting the hell out of here.
Jon, I’m on my way!
Grabbing my packed bag, I make a run for the door and race outside. The rain pours relentlessly down. I don’t care, I just want out.
The car approaches, and I stare into the murky darkness, realizing that it’s not the Mercedes, it’s a black sedan, and it’s pulling up in front of the house.
By this time I am totally drenched as I hover on the doorstep like a half-drowned rat. But nothing will stop me now, because freedom beckons, and whoever’s in the car can definitely give me a ride. I’m determined.
And then—oh my God!
Gino emerges from the car followed by Olympia’s dad, and I am in a state of total panic.
Gino takes one look at me, then grabs me by the shoulders, his nails digging into my flesh, before he starts shaking me so hard that I think I might throw up.
“You stupid dumb fuckin’ kid!” he screams in true Gino style. “You dumbass idiot.”
While Dimitri crows a triumphant “I knew it! I knew they’d be here,” Gino shoves me back into the house, and Dimitri follows.
My mind zips into overdrive. How do I warn Olympia that the fathers are here? How do I get her out of bed with Mister Slime? I realize we’re not the best of friends at the moment, but this is a huge big deal and I should try to help her.
Gino is glaring at me balefully, while Dimitri is looking around at the chaos and muttering, “My God! They’ve wrecked my sister’s house.”
Gino grabs me again while I send an urgent silent message to Olympia: Put on some clothes and get out of the bedroom.
Too late. Dimitri is on a rampage searching for his daughter. He flings open the double doors of the main bedroom and there is Olympia—naked of course—on her knees servicing Warris.
Dimitri does not hesitate; he moves forward and whacks her across her exposed ass with all his might.
Olympia shrieks.
Dimitri screams, “Christ!”
And Warris falls off the bed.
I realize that my life as I know it is over.
* * *
Later we learn about Pippa. It’s a huge shock, especially for Warris, who is attempting to pack his bags because Dimitri has ordered him to get the hell out of his house immediately before he summons the police and has him arrested for trespassing.
“What’m I supposed to do?” Warris whines to Olympia. “I got no car, how’m I supposed to get down to Cannes? It’s storming out.”
Dimitri overhears and fixes Warris with a grim look. “You’re lucky I don’t break both your legs,” he snarls. “Get out of here—now!”
Warris doesn’t need telling twice. He scoops up his bag and reluctantly slouches out into the heart of the storm.
Olympia pulls a sulky face and screws up her small eyes. “It’s not like we’ve done anything wrong,” she mutters in a complaining voice. “We were just taking a vacation.”
Dimitri glares her down. He’s powerful and in charge and does not wish to listen to any excuses. He turns to Gino. “We should head back to the airport,” he says abruptly. “My plane is on standby.”
Gino nods. “Let’s go.”
Dimitri looks around again, his lip curled in disgust. “This place needs fumigating,” he says. “It smells like some kind of filthy pot den. My people will deal with it.”
Gino agrees. He can’t seem to look at me, or maybe it’s me who can’t look at him.
I hate him.
I think.
I guess it’s on to the next chapter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
On one hand, Gino to the rescue is a good thing. At least it gets me away from the house of pot, although I would’ve preferred to be somewhere with Jon, who I am beginning to realize I might never see again, because an hour after Gino and Dimitri discovered where we were, the four of us are on Dimitri’s plane heading for Paris. Good-bye, South of France.
Good-bye, waitress job.
Good-bye, me and Jon.
It’s all a major shock, especially the news about Pippa. I can’t believe that she’s gone, it doesn’t seem real.
Just for
a change Gino is giving me the silent treatment. After his initial blowup he proceeds to ignore me as if I don’t exist. In a way I’d rather he was yelling and screaming—at least then I’d know he cares.
Olympia is coming back to earth with a bang. No sex with sleazy Warris. No grass. No freedom. We’re both busted and she knows it.
We are sitting next to each other on the plane. Neither of us are too happy.
Olympia stares at me accusingly. “Did you tell them where to find us?” she demands in a hoarse whisper. “Did you?”
I’m horrified that she would even think it was me. “No way,” I answer, quite insulted. “As if I would.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” she mutters.
“What?”
“Oh, don’t play the innocent with me,” she snarls. “I know you hated Warris.”
The last thing I expected was for Olympia to blame me. We sink into an uncomfortable silence and soon we both fall asleep.
When Dimitri’s plane arrives in Paris we part ways without a word. My once best friend is now my enemy.
How did that happen?
The answer.
Warris. Mister Sleaze.
* * *
My father and I sit in a VIP lounge waiting for a flight to New York or L.A. I’m not sure where he has in mind to take me next. He’s still not talking.
I watch him as he interacts with the hostesses in the lounge who are fussing all over him because they obviously fancy him. Gino the Ram, with his dark good looks and wicked smile, he’s quite a catch. And I suppose I have to admit that he is a very charismatic man.
After a while I ask him where we are headed.
“Home,” he answers brusquely. “Where you belong.”
This gets me thinking. Where do I belong? Apparently not in the South of France with Jon—I can write him off as a boy I’m probably never going to see again. So … do I belong in Gino’s New York apartment? Probably not. Then we must be on our way to L.A. and the Bel Air mausoleum.
Oh great! Back to homeschooling and serious lockdown.
And … Marco. Yes, the good news is that I’ll be seeing Marco again, so maybe things are looking up. That’s if he doesn’t continue to treat me like a kid. Which I’m so not.
Confessions of a Wild Child Page 10
