I am confused; I’m so not up on gay etiquette.
By the time lunch is over I take a deep breath and drag Dario away before Raoul eats him for dessert!
“Your dress will be here later,” Raoul calls after me. “Four o’clock in my suite. Bring Dario.”
Oh yes, I bet he wants me to bring Dario.
Dario still seems oblivious to the fact that Raoul was fawning all over him.
I throw my brother a penetrating look. “Are you still gay?” I ask as we make our way back to the penthouse.
He seems perplexed. “What?” he says.
“Gay? You?” I persist.
“It’s not like measles,” he says with an irritated scowl. “It doesn’t just come and go.”
“Well, Raoul’s in love,” I state, which causes Dario to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.
I stare at him, thinking how like my mom he looks with his blazing blue eyes and shock of blond hair. I wonder if Gino sees the resemblance. Then there’s me—a female version of my dad with the same jet-black hair and intense dark eyes. I bet Gino wishes it was the other way around.
“How was the tour of the hotel?” I ask Dario, thinking a change of subject might be in order.
“Hardly my scene,” he replies. “I’m not interested, Lucky, you know that.”
“Yes, I do know. And what really pisses me off is that Gino doesn’t see it. I’m all ready to jump aboard and you’re a total nonstarter. It’s so not fair.”
“Yeah,” Dario agrees as we get in the elevator. “It sucks.”
“One of these days he’ll get it,” I say, full of confidence. “You’ll see.”
“I’m sure.” Dario hesitates for a second, then plunges on. “I’m gonna ask him if I can go to art school in San Francisco.”
“You are?”
“What do you think he’ll say?”
“I think you’d better pick your moment. You know Gino, totally unpredictable. Who knows what his reaction will be.”
We enter the penthouse and both flop onto one of the luxurious overstuffed couches in the living room.
“So,” Dario says, scrutinizing my face. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.”
“Better than another dumb school,” I say flippantly.
“You’re sure about that?” he asks, watching me closely. “Who’s this Craven dude, anyway?”
“His dad is a senator, his mom is into the whole charity bit.”
“I’m asking about him, not his family.”
“He’s … uh … kind of … uh … boring.”
“I don’t get it,” Dario says, hauling his butt off the couch and going behind the bar to get a Coke.
“Nobody said you had to,” I argue.
“C’mon, Lucky, why are you doing this?” Dario demands, opening the can.
“It’s difficult to explain.”
Dario screws up his eyes. “No shit?”
“Look,” I say firmly. “I’ve got to get away from being under Gino’s control. If I marry Craven I won’t be regarded as a dumb little kid anymore. I’ll be my own person, an adult.”
“You’ll be somebody’s wife.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, getting all defensive. “I’ve thought it through, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You’re just like Gino—stubborn.”
I contemplate whether I should tell Dario about the blackmail pics, then I decide not to.
“It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “This is gonna work out for me, you’ll see. In fact, little bro—you can bet on it.”
* * *
My wedding dress couldn’t be more perfect. Short in front, long in the back—a soft flowing material covered in tiny sparkling beads. Not traditional at all, it has a kind of hippie vibe.
Raoul stands back and surveys me with a pleased expression. “Such a fit in every way,” he murmurs. “You are a beauty—a dark wild colt of a beauty.”
“I love it!” I purr. “How did you know?”
Raoul nods to himself. “Some things are meant to be, child. This dress was waiting for you.”
Mrs. Richmond is nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t care less whether she approves the dress or not because it’s what I’m wearing.
“Where is your brother?” Raoul asks. “Such a delightful young man.”
“Uh … Gino grabbed him—he’s all about teaching him the hotel business.”
“Surely that is not where Dario’s interests lie?”
“I guess not, but my dad can be very … uh … forceful.”
“Dario is an old soul, a gentle boy.”
I nod. I have a hunch that Raoul knows. I just hope to God Gino doesn’t find out.
“Are you aware that Peter Richmond is planning a bachelor night for Craven?” Raoul asks. “I thought that you might allow me the honor of arranging a similar evening for you.”
Wow! Haven’t thought about celebrating the birth of my new life! And who would I celebrate with anyway? I don’t have any friends here.
“Who would you invite?” I ask.
“Whomever you like,” Raoul replies.
“Not Mrs. Richmond,” I say firmly.
“It will be our secret,” Raoul assures me. “There are many amusing people I know here in Vegas. Let’s say it will be a different kind of evening. Oh yes, and be sure to bring Dario. I know he’ll enjoy it.”
And I understand exactly why Raoul has it in mind to entertain us.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Miss Drew arrives from L.A. at the same time as groups of wedding guests begin to fly in. The guests include Gino’s friends and business acquaintances from L.A. and New York, Washington dignitaries, and Betty Richmond’s tribe of female friends, a frightening group of women with helmet hair and painstaking expressions. Betty throws a lunch for me, which is my idea of hell on earth. The women gawk at me as if I’m a strange creature from outer space. Not to be intimidated, I stare right back at them.
Everyone thinks I’m pregnant. Why else would this rushed wedding be happening?
And then a huge surprise takes place, one that Gino has omitted to tell me. The Stanislopouloses arrive, Dimitri and Olympia.
When did Gino and Dimitri become so close that Gino invited them to my wedding? I can only assume that they bonded on their quest to track down me and Olympia in the South of France. Talk about a shocking turn of events. I haven’t seen or spoken to Olympia since we were discovered hiding out at her aunt’s villa. Her last words accused me of telling Gino and Dimitri where to find us. Untrue and hurtful.
Now here she is in Vegas, all blonde and bouncing curls, bountiful bosoms and with a huge smile on her face.
She envelops me in a best-friend hug and whispers in my ear, “You sly piece of work—grabbing yourself a senator’s son! Congrats, girl. I wish I was getting married.”
Apparently the past is the past and all is forgiven.
Truth is, I am kind of delighted to see her. We shared so many adventures, and without Warris the Sleaze around, she is just like the old Olympia I used to know and bond with.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I had no clue you were coming.”
“Daddy’s into gambling,” Olympia explains. “His latest girlfriend’s never been to Vegas, so when the invite arrived he decided we should make the trip. Gives him an excuse to use his plane.”
“Wow! It’s really fab to see you.”
Olympia gives me another close hug. She smells of a very expensive perfume and her diamond ear studs are way bigger than mine.
“Little Lucky Saint, all grown up,” she exclaims, checking me out. “I love it! Does your fiancé have any hot friends?”
I choke back laughter. As if.
“I haven’t met his friends yet,” I say. “When I do, I’ll let you know.”
Olympia licks her jammy lips and leans in for a quick whisper. “Are you knocked up?”
I shake my head. No, Olympia, unlike you, I am still a virgin. Although much experienced in
other areas involving sex.
“No way,” I answer with a vigorous shake of my head.
“Well, I have to say you’re lookin’ awesome. This dude must be giving you all the right moves in bed.”
Ah … if she only knew.
“When do I get to meet him?” Olympia demands. “I promise I won’t steal him from you, not unless you want me to. Although you do know that I’m quite irresistible to the male sex.”
She giggles as if she’s making a joke, but I know her all too well; she truly believes she can get any man she goes after, and 95 percent of the time she’s right.
“I guess you’ve forgotten all about Warris?” I question.
“Who?” Olympia says, straight-faced.
A beat, then we both burst out laughing.
“You have to admit we had fun,” Olympia insists.
I remember Jon and nod my head. Better to dwell on the positive rather than remember all the negative things that happened.
“So,” I say. “Betty Richmond is desperado to meet your dad.”
“Why is that?”
“Could be ’cause he’s a billionaire with a plane and an island.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“Anyway, Gino’s spoken to Dimitri, and we’re all supposed to meet for dinner tonight.”
“Cool,” Olympia says, fluffing out her hair. “That means you’ll get an eyeful of Daddy’s fuck-friend. She’s Russian, six feet tall, and a bitch on wheels.”
Perfect, I think, we should sit her next to Peter Richmond and watch the sparks ignite.
Olympia links her arm through mine. “Amaze hotel,” she raves. “We should go to the spa, I haven’t had a manicure in three days. I’m dying to tell you about my latest. He’s a German and bisexual. He gives going underground a whole new meaning.”
Ah, Olympia is definitely back.
* * *
Two hours later I am exhausted. Listening to Olympia’s sexual highjinks is like a nonstop sex marathon. Details, details, details. Too many details!
Fortunately she is too busy talking about herself to question me.
I am relieved, ’cause I have nothing to reveal. Horny Jeff doesn’t count. I need a real session of “almost” before marriage swallows me up.
Can girls feel horny?
You bet they can.
Maybe with Olympia in town I will be able to slip out after dinner. I plot and plan with Dario, who still hasn’t gotten up the nerve to broach the subject of art school with Gino.
“We should go to a club when dinner’s through,” I suggest. “Somewhere we can let loose. I’m starting to feel majorly trapped.”
Dario doesn’t seem too enthusiastic. He’s confessed to me that he misses his teacher boyfriend, Eric, and wishes he was here.
I do not wish to come across as a prude—however, isn’t it kind of inappropriate for a teacher to be sleeping with a student? Especially when that student is my baby brother. I mean, I’ve met Eric and everything, and he seems like a cool guy. But still …
Soon Olympia will meet Craven, and I can’t help wondering what she’ll think of him. She’ll immediately get that it’s all a sham. As well as I know her, that’s how well she knows me.
Too bad. I’ve come this far, I’m not backing down now. Besides, I think Gino would kill me if I did.
I have faced the fact that Gino has deals to make, connections to cement. And the Washington connection is a big one for him. It wouldn’t be cool for me to blow it. Besides, maybe the Washington connection will be my key to the future. Why not? Nothing is impossible.
* * *
Dario is into getting stoned. He has a bag of pot with him—courtesy of teacher Eric—and he thinks we should roll joints and smoke it before the big dinner.
I kind of don’t want to, ’cause I prefer to remain clearheaded at all times. But Dario insists, and as a supportive sister I finally agree.
He’s already met Craven, they played tennis in the morning. “C’mon, Lucky. The dude’s a total jerk,” he’d told me, as if I didn’t already know. “He’s got no personality, all he seems to do is boast about his mom and how fantastic she is.”
“There’s more to this upcoming marriage than you know,” I’d informed him. “Trust me, I understand exactly what I’m letting myself in for.”
Dario had shaken his head and muttered something about me being a fool.
Maybe I am. However, I truly think I know what I’m doing.
We share a joint out on the terrace of the penthouse lest Gino come sniffing around. I have to admit, it is relaxing.
Olympia calls to find out what I’m wearing.
“Black,” I say. “I’m into my Goth cycle.”
“I’m wearing Dolce,” she informs me. “Pink. I plan to outshine everyone, including Daddy’s Russian bitch.”
Ah, Olympia, modest as ever.
Soon it’s time to leave for dinner at the Lake restaurant. There are numerous restaurants in the hotel—each one more luxurious than the last. The Lake is Gino’s particular favorite as it overlooks a series of cascading waterfalls and a man-made lake, very glam.
Gino emerges from his dressing room clad all in black, his gangsterish look.
We go together nicely. Father and daughter. A perfect matching pair.
“My children,” he says, beaming at both of us. “The two of you certainly make a man proud.”
And with these words ringing in my ears we set off for dinner.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The Russian bitch—as Olympia refers to her father’s girlfriend—is over six feet tall and a supermodel. She has skin as smooth as white ivory, slanted green eyes, and a slender body to die for. She speaks very little English, and every man in the place is salivating over her. Dimitri greets me with a bearlike hug, making no mention of the South of France debacle, then after the hug—which goes on a tad long—he introduces me to his girlfriend, Tasha. I think I’ve seen her on the cover of Sports Illustrated or one of those magazines where women appear unreal. Tasha looks unreal and untouchable. A double whammy. It’s not a sexy vibe, and I wonder why all the men are drooling.
Gino is definitely turning on the charm, so is Peter Richmond. Craven seems to be terrified.
I want to laugh—men are so predictable. They either drool or they run.
Olympia makes her entrance: She resembles a pink cupcake in her over-the-top dress, with boobs spilling out. She flirts outrageously with Craven, who manages to cower away, looking even more petrified.
Betty has her usual bad-smell-under-the-nose expression. Dario is definitely stoned. And Aunt Jen and Uncle Costa have joined the party. Then there’s Alison, Craven’s uptight sister with swept-up hair and a morose expression. It’s a lively group.
I wonder why Gino doesn’t have a date—surely Gino the Ram should be covered in women? I guess he wants to get through the wedding and then he’ll take off once I’m safely shipped to Washington.
“Lucky,” Dimitri says, one hand on his girlfriend’s thigh under the table, which I can’t help but notice. “This is a wonderful time for you. A big celebration.”
It is?
“Uh … yes,” I agree.
“I offered you and your intended a honeymoon on my island,” Dimitri continues. “However, I understand you will be heading to the Bahamas.”
“We are,” I say.
“The O … Ocean Club,” Craven stammers. “Mother recommended it, she’s stayed many times.”
“Oh,” Olympia drawls sarcastically. “Will Mother be going with you?”
Hmm … it doesn’t take Olympia long to get a bead on Craven and his mother fixation.
“Sadly no,” Betty says, concentrating her attention on Dimitri. “Your island sounds divine—Peter and I are always searching for a new vacation spot.”
“Search no more, my lady,” Dimitri responds. “You and the senator are welcome to my island as my guests at any time.”
And I note his hand traveling farther up his girlf
riend’s thigh to under her ultrashort dress.
I bet she’s not wearing panties.
Tasha’s exquisite ivory face remains impassive. She is obviously used to being worshipped or felt up. One or the other.
Olympia has decided to zero in on Peter Richmond. She recognizes a letch when she sees one.
Aunt Jen smiles comfortingly at me. A warm smile. A smile that indicates all is well because sixteen-year-old me is getting her naughty little ass married off to an important political family.
I know for sure that if my mom was still alive this would never be happening.
Gino is in deep conversation with Uncle Costa. Business rules.
Dario is sitting back, stoned, and wishing he was somewhere else.
Everyone seems to have found their comfort zone. Everyone except me.
Olympia leans across the table to say something, her large bosoms almost falling out of her dress.
“When can we get out of here and go have some fun?” she whispers. “And by the way, your little bro is a real hottie. What’s his story?”
Ah, Olympia … she’s never picky. A teenage boy or an old senator. She’ll flirt with them all equally.
“Soon,” I mouth, thinking, The sooner the better.
I have a plan. With Olympia here it will be easy for me to ditch Craven and take off with her. No going back to the penthouse with a stern guard stationed outside. I will be spending the night with my best friend. Who can possibly argue with that?
Gino might, because he knows our history. But Betty has abandoned Dimitri, and now has Gino deep in conversation. I bet it won’t be long before he makes an excuse and takes off before the dinner ends.
Yes! It happens exactly as I predicted. Marco appears, mutters in Gino’s ear, and Gino gets up. I realize that clearly this is a routine Gino has worked out with Marco to allow him a convenient exit strategy.
Business calls. Good-bye, Daddy Dearest.
“Who the freak is that?” Olympia asks, staring at Marco as he extracts Gino.
“That is Marco,” I reply, adding a silent My Marco, so hands off.
“Oh,” Olympia sighs. “Now I get it.”
Naturally I’d gone on and on about Marco when we were at L’Evier together. I’m sure I’d spoken about my crush many times. Too many, perhaps.
Confessions of a Wild Child Page 17
