Double Lucky

by Jackie Collins

  “Why’s that, Kev?” Billy said, thoroughly fed up with Kev’s antics. “’Cause if you tell me you smashed up my Maserati, I’ll get so freakin’ mad you won’t even know what hit you.”

  “Your precious car’s fine. In fact, we’re in it now.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Ali and me,” Kev said, his voice muffled.

  “You brought Ali, huh?”

  “Yeah, an’ before you go off on a rant, here’s the news of the day. We, uh … we got married.”

  “You did what?” Billy exploded, almost spilling his drink.

  “Married. Hitched. Ain’t that something?”

  “Oh jeez!” Billy exclaimed. “You really are a piece of work.”

  * * *

  “How much money did you invest in this hotel?” Ling asked Alex as they checked in.

  “Enough,” he replied, signing his name on the register.

  “And how long before your investment pays off?”

  “With Lucky in charge, not too long,” he answered, irritated that she felt free to question him.

  “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky,” Ling muttered. “You’re obsessed with that woman.”

  “Stop with the bitching,” Alex groaned. “Otherwise I’ll be sorry I brought you along.”

  “I’m your girlfriend, Alex,” Ling said. “Of course I should be with you.”

  “Then quit making me crazy.”

  “Easy. If you quit lusting after Lucky Santangelo.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” he muttered.

  “This way, Mr. Woods,” said a helpful manager. “I’ll be escorting you to your suite.”

  * * *

  “I was thinkin’ I could go play tennis, Mom,” Gino Junior said.

  “Go ahead,” Lucky said, delighted that her youngest son showed such a passion for sports. Lennie insisted it kept him out of trouble, and Lucky often wished that Max was into sports—it would probably make things a lot less explosive.

  “D’you think Bobby’ll play?” Gino Junior wanted to know.

  “Go ask him. There’s eight courts and a championship pro just waiting.”

  “I will. And, oh yeah, your hotel rocks, Mom.”

  “Yes?”

  “Totally.”

  Yes, she thought, my hotel rocks. And why not? I put my heart and soul into it.

  Gino Junior ran off just as she got a call from Max informing her they were minutes away. Lucky wanted to check out this new friend of Max’s, so she headed for the front of the hotel to greet them.

  * * *

  After Venus finished rehearsing she returned to the penthouse suite where she was not thrilled to find Kev, some young girl, and Billy, all drinking champagne. Exactly what she didn’t need.

  She’d never really discussed it with Billy, but she considered Kev to be a bad influence. She and Billy’s best friend had never warmed to each other—they’d always kept their distance—and she was certain that Kev put her down behind her back. Before she and Billy had become a couple, Kev was always talking about the parade of gorgeous girls Billy had had, and the amazing events, clubs, and parties the two of them had attended on a nightly basis. Obviously Kev did not appreciate her putting a stop to all the partying. Now she did not appreciate him lounging around in their suite swigging champagne with a young blonde.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, shooting Billy a look. “Are we celebrating something?”

  “Hi, babe,” Billy said, getting up and giving her a hug. “’S’matter of fact, we are.”

  “We are?” she said coolly.

  “Yeah, um, this is Ali. Kev and Ali just got married.”

  “Wow!” Venus said, quite surprised. “And how long have you known this young lady, Kev?”

  “We go way back,” Kev said, a bit sheepishly.

  “Actually,” Ali said, quickly joining in, “we only met a couple of weeks ago, but Kev’s so great, I feel as if I’ve known him forever.”

  “Yeah,” Kev agreed. “Getting married was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Y’know, bein’ in Vegas an’ all. I said, ‘Let’s do it,’ an’ Ali was way into it.”

  “How nice,” Venus said. “Congratulations to the two of you. I guess that’s what the champagne is all about.”

  “Have a glass,” Billy said.

  “Not right now,” she answered, shooting Billy another look.

  “Kev, you should go find your room,” Billy said, catching Venus’s disapproving vibe. “We’ll get together later and celebrate properly.”

  “Sure,” Kev said, getting the hint. “C’mon, Ali, we gotta go.”

  Ali was busy staring at Venus, which totally alarmed Billy. Was she about to say something incriminating, such as, “I fucked your boyfriend. Oh yes, and I went down on him too”?

  No, she wouldn’t do that.

  Or would she?

  “Okay, guys,” Billy said, hustling them out the door. “Later.”

  * * *

  And somewhere in Vegas, Tucker Bond was busy putting everything in place. Two days earlier he’d driven his large truck into the city and settled himself and his two-woman crew at a convenient motel.

  Tucker was a heavyset man in his late forties with weather-beaten skin, sunken eyes, and a thrice-broken nose. Australian by birth, Tucker had lived in America for more than thirty years, although he’d never lost his strong Australian accent. Tucker was a man for hire, and over the years he’d developed quite a reputation for getting things done. Anything.

  Tucker didn’t care what he did or who he did it for, as long as the price was right.

  Destroying the Keys was costing someone a million bucks. Tucker had already made sure the job would take place without a hitch.

  Paying for Tucker Bond meant getting the best. Whatever the client wanted, he made sure it happened.

  Tucker Bond never failed to deliver.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  “Hi, Mom,” Max said, leaping out of Ace’s truck, long dark hair flying, green eyes sparkling.

  “Hey, Max,” Lucky said warmly. She’d made up her mind to put Max’s bad behavior behind her and try for a stress-free weekend.

  “Uh … this is Ace,” Max said, hanging tightly on to his arm, her multiple gold bracelets jangling.

  “Nice to meet you, Ace,” Lucky said, immediately realizing that her daughter was suffering from a major crush. And why not? Ace was tall and lanky with an almost surfer-dude look. He had mesmerizing blue eyes that almost matched his light blue denim work shirt, and an appealing cleft in his chin. He was also older than Max by several years. Lucky had to stop herself from asking exactly how old he was.

  “Your grandfather really wants to see you,” she said. “And don’t forget to wish him a happy birthday.”

  “Like I would forget,” Max said a tad scornfully.

  “Oh, yes,” Lucky added, “and you’d better apologize for not being at his party. You’ll find him in the Santangelo Lounge.”

  “The what?” Max asked, stifling a giggle.

  “Don’t start with me, Max,” Lucky said, walking them into the lobby of the hotel. “It’s called the Santangelo Lounge in honor of Gino.”

  “Of course it is,” Max said, shooting Ace a quick look.

  “You can go check in at the front desk first,” Lucky said. “Everything’s arranged. Max, you’re sharing a room with Cookie, and Ace, you’re in with Harry.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Golden,” Ace said. He was shell-shocked by Max’s mom—a stone-cold fox—not to mention the opulence of the hotel.

  “The reception starts at six on the main terrace,” Lucky said. “Try not to be late.”

  “Do we get a tour of the hotel?” Max asked, not bothering to mention that Harry wouldn’t be coming. “It looks totally awesome!”

  “Go find Bobby,” Lucky said. “He’ll show you around.”

  “Oh great! He’s here!” Max exclaimed, turning to Ace. “Bobby’s my older brother,” she continued, excited by the thought of seeing him. “Bobby’s majo
r cool, you’ll so like him.”

  “Yes, you will,” Lucky said. “Bobby’s a trip.”

  “Where’s Dad?” Max asked.

  “Playing golf with Charlie Dollar.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “You will,” Lucky said. “So … I have a million things to do. Are you two all set?”

  “Uh, thanks, Mrs. Golden,” Ace said again, trying hard not to stare, for Lucky was not what he’d expected at all. “It’s an honor to be here.”

  At least he’s polite, Lucky thought. And he seems like a nice enough kid, although they all do until they have your daughter half undressed in the back of a parked car. And Max is only sixteen. A wild little sixteen-year-old with a mind of her own and a major rebellious streak.

  Hmm … polite and hot. Her teenage daughter was in heaven.

  * * *

  “How long have Kev and that girl really known each other?” Venus asked once Kev and Ali had left.

  “I’m sure they go way back,” Billy said, keeping it as ambiguous as possible. “You know Kev, he’s always hanging with a different girl.”

  “Yes, I do know Kev. That’s why I find it so surprising he should get married. Where exactly did he meet this one?”

  “Dunno,” Billy said vaguely. “She might’ve been an extra on the movie.”

  “Hmm…” Venus sighed, rapidly losing interest. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” She flopped onto the couch, stretching languorously. “Although I do have to admit it’s quite invigorating getting back into the swing of things. My backup dancers are full of amazing energy, and so they should be, considering they’re all ten years younger than me.”

  “Ten?” Billy teased.

  “Okay, twenty years younger than me,” she admitted, laughing. “God, that makes me feel so old.”

  “You? Old? Never,” Billy said gallantly. “I’m gonna be thirty in two years—guess that’ll be my time to feel old.”

  “It’s different for men.”

  “No it’s not.”

  “You’re right. Why’d I say such a stupid sexist thing? Me—who’s never bought in to that Hollywood bullshit. It’s not different for men at all. Women can screw from thirteen to a hundred and thirteen. Men have the problem of getting it up, only now they’ve got Viagra to do it for them.”

  “Never tried Viagra.”

  “Oh, baby, believe me, you don’t need to.”

  He yawned, relieved that Kev and his new bride were long gone. “How about we take a little siesta?” he suggested.

  “How about I can’t. My makeup and hair people will be here any minute.”

  “Tell ’em to come later. You don’t need to spend that much time getting ready.”

  “Lucky wants us to go drop by the reception—we can’t let her down—and later the place will be jammed with press and camera crews, so yes, I’ve got to get all glammed up.”

  “Whatever you do, you’re always the sexiest woman in the room, glammed up or not.”

  “I am?”

  “You know it, babe.”

  “So,” she said, basking in his compliments. “What did you end up doing today?”

  “Craps. Poker. Blackjack.”

  “My own Mister Predictable. Did you lose it all back?”

  “What do you think?” he said, grinning.

  “Yes.”

  “Easy come, easy go, an’ tonight I’ll be a winner again.”

  “Oh, Billy,” she sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Follow me into the bedroom, my sexy little superstar, and allow me to show you.”

  “I’m right behind you,” she said, jumping up.

  * * *

  “So,” Max said as they walked around the edge of the main swimming pool after spending time with Gino, Bobby, Brigette, and the rest of the family. “What’s your take?”

  “On what?” Ace replied.

  “Everything. The hotel. My mom. My granddad. And especially Bobby.”

  “I think you’ve all led a charmed life of money and privilege.”

  That was not the answer she’d wanted to hear. She refused to be viewed as a spoiled rich kid with famous affluent parents and rich relatives. She was her own person. Max. And more than anything she wanted Ace to see that.

  “Charmed life—not so much,” she said defensively.

  “C’mon, Max,” he said, giving her a quizzical look.

  “What?” she said. “You think it’s easy having parents who’ve achieved so many things?”

  “Better than having no parents at all,” he pointed out.

  “You’ve got me there,” she said, realizing how tough it must have been for him losing his mom and dad.

  “Lucky doesn’t seem like a dragon lady,” he observed. “If you want my opinion I think we should’ve told her about the kidnapping thing.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “’Cause it was bad, Max,” he said, frowning. “The freak had a gun. He had you chained like a dog, and me locked up. What if he’s still out there trying to do it to somebody else?”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, agitated. “Lucky would’ve blamed me. She’d think I was weak and unable to look after myself.”

  “No she wouldn’t.”

  “You met her for five minutes,” Max said sharply. “That doesn’t mean you know her.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, realizing he’d hit a sensitive spot. “I get it.”

  “No you don’t,” she said sulkily. “You’ve fallen under Lucky’s spell. Everyone does. Whenever I’m around her it’s like I become invisible.”

  “In your mind.”

  “Whatever. She’s so clever and beautiful and smart. It’s crap trying to live up to all of that.”

  “Hey, Max,” he said, stopping and taking hold of her shoulders. “You got any idea how hot you are?”

  “Me?” she said, staring into his blue eyes.

  “No,” he deadpanned. “That girl over there.”

  “I’m so hot that you didn’t even kiss me last night,” she said, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. She probably sounded like dork of the month.

  “You’re sixteen,” he pointed out.

  “So was Lucky when she got married the first time.”

  “Get over it, you’re not in a competition with your mom.”

  “Says who?” she said, moving away from him and sitting on the end of a lounger.

  “Says me,” he said, squatting down next to her.

  “Do y’know why I tried to hook up with that freak from the Internet?” she said, gazing at the ripples in the pool.

  “Go ahead, surprise me.”

  “It’s ’cause I wanted to show my ex-boyfriend that he lost out.”

  “And how were you going to do that?”

  “My plan was to sleep with the creep—although when I decided that’s what I’d do I thought I was like meeting up with this totally interesting smart dude. Then psycho man appears. Ugh! Gross!”

  “So you’re a—”

  “Virgin. Yes! I admit it,” she said, blushing. “How lame is that?”

  “Shows you’re selective.”

  “More like retarded,” she mumbled.

  “Not retarded, Max, cute.”

  “Cute!” she exclaimed in horror. “I hate that word, it’s totally…”

  “What?”

  “I dunno, but I’ll think of something.”

  “Yeah,” he said, starting to grin. “You’ll think of something, you always do.”

  * * *

  Henry Whitfield-Simmons checked into a luxury bungalow at the Cavendish under a false name. Lord Grant was the name he’d chosen. It had a ring to it, suggesting that he could indeed be an English Lord.

  He’d changed the plates on Penelope’s Bentley, and he was paying for everything with cash.

  Being anonymous was quite freeing. Nobody knew who he was or anything about him, and that suited him just fine. All they knew was that he tipped lav
ishly, wore the best Brioni had to offer, and drove a Bentley.

  It was enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  Anthony demanded two premier bungalows, which infuriated Renee because she had not realized he would be arriving with an entourage. He turned up with his wife, grandmother, mistress, assistant, and bodyguard. Damn him. The hotel was overbooked as it was, and she’d reserved him his usual suite. But no, that wasn’t good enough, he wanted two of the best bungalows, forcing her to move a couple of high rollers who threatened never to return.

  “I had to throw people out to accommodate you,” she complained. “You’re a pain in the ass, Anthony.”

  “You have no idea,” he responded.

  Yes I do, she wanted to say. But she kept her silence because she knew it would be foolish to speak her mind. Instead she went back to her house on the hotel grounds and bitched to Susie about Anthony’s arrival.

  “Why is he here?” Susie was curious to know.

  “I presume to spend leisure time with his grandmother,” Renee said, not revealing the true purpose of Anthony’s visit. The less Susie knew, the better. Susie would not understand why certain things had to be done, and if she ever found out she’d try to put a stop to it. Susie did not approve of anything illegal. To say she was naive was an understatement—she honestly believed that Tasmin had disappeared all on her own and that Anthony had nothing to do with it, although she still asked the occasional question.

  “Anthony has a grandmother that he actually takes around with him?” Susie asked, her eyes widening.

  “He’s very Italian when it comes to family,” Renee explained. “His wife is with him too.”

  “Anthony has a wife?”

  “Yes, Susie. He has a wife and a grandmother. He didn’t just crawl out of a hole in the ground.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.”

  “Here’s the kicker,” Renee said. “His bimbo mistress is also along for the ride.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Susie exclaimed. “How does that work? Do you think they’re having a threesome?”

  “Hardly,” Renee said. “The wife looks shell-shocked while the mistress is all perky and ready to party.”

  “Not with you, I hope,” Susie said, her jealous streak surfacing at the slightest provocation.

  “Of course not with me,” Renee assured her insecure partner.