Joey Firello was short and wiry, with rubbery lips, an ethnic face, and lots of nervous energy. Not traditionally good-looking, he was seemingly irresistible to women. ‘They want to mother me,’ he deadpanned. ‘Hey – the day I say no to tit is the day it’s over, man.’
Joey had been very supportive of Lennie when he’d first arrived in L.A. fresh from being fired out of a gig in Vegas and stone-cold broke. Joey, who at that time was just beginning to make it himself, had gotten Lennie a job at the legendary Foxie’s club on Hollywood Boulevard, and been there for him all the way.
Lennie did not forget favours, so when his own career began to surpass Joey’s by a long streak, and Joey’s was on a downward spiral due to a serious cocaine problem, he’d always made sure there was a role for his friend in everything he did. Right now Joey’s career was on an upswing.
‘You comin’ for dinner or what?’ Joey demanded.
‘Maybe I’ll let you buy me a pizza,’ Lennie said, relenting. After all, the house in Malibu was distinctly lonely with just Miko and himself for company. And he was tired of trying to make improvements on a script that was going nowhere.
Joey seemed pleased: he’d been trying to get Lennie out for weeks. ‘We’ll go back to my place, you can grab a shower, an’ then we’ll paaarty all night long! Yeah!’
‘Dinner, Joey. That’s it.’
Joey pulled a disappointed face. ‘Dinner, Joey,’ he mimicked. ‘Hey – hey – hey – Whatever happened to the wild guy I used to know? Whatever happened to the king of the party scene?’
‘He got married,’ Lennie said. ‘Yeah, he got married – not dead.’
* * *
The doorbell woke Lucky. Asleep on the outside deck she came to with a start and shivered. A brisk wind whipped along the beach and now the ocean was black and the waves sounded thunderous.
A quick glance at her watch revealed that it was nine o’clock.
She hurried through the dark house to the front door and let in the waiter from Trader Vic’s. The food was sealed in cardboard cartons. She had him place them on a counter in the kitchen and leave.
Nine o’clock and where was Lennie? Miko had told her he was expecting him at seven, and like an idiot she hadn’t thought of checking because she’d wanted to surprise him. Obviously not so smart. Lennie was out and about, and she had no idea where to start looking.
It’s your own fault, Santangelo, she scolded herself sternly. That’ll teach you to go for the unexpected.
She wondered if Abe Panther was awake, or did the fierce Inga put him down to sleep at eight o’clock? She wouldn’t mind talking to the old guy. He was sharp and canny. She liked him.
Morton Sharkey had insisted that two separate psychiatrists and an independent doctor examine Abe before allowing Lucky to go ahead with the deal. ‘What if he drops dead?’ Morton had asked. ‘Or even worse – what if when he dies the family steps forward and challenges his state of mind? We need to have this covered.’
Abe had not objected. Like Lucky, he was enjoying the game. He brought his own lawyer into play, and every intricate detail was worked out.
Now they had a deal set in concrete. Starting Monday Lucky was going in undercover. She couldn’t wait!
* * *
Joey knew almost everyone in the restaurant, so what started out as a quiet dinner for three gradually grew into chaos.
‘I’m getting out of here,’ Lennie announced at ten-fifteen. He’d had enough.
Joey grimaced. He was surrounded by women of all shapes, hues, and sizes. ‘I may be talented but I need help,’ he complained. ‘You can’t leave me, man.’
‘Watch me.’ Lennie was already on his feet.
‘Can you drop me off at my car?’ Cristi asked hopefully. ‘I never was one for group auditions.’
How could he say no to Miss California? ‘Aren’t you staying with Joey?’ he asked half-heartedly.
She eyed the seven other girls hanging on to Joey Firello’s every breath. ‘Give me a break, Lennie.’ With that she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, allowing him no choice but to take her with him.
‘Bye, Joey,’ they both said in unison, although not intentionally.
Joey signalled a thumbs-up. After four vodkas and several lines of cocaine (surreptitiously snorted because after numerous dry-out periods he was supposed to be reformed) he was flying on a solo journey.
Instinctively Lennie steered Cristi towards the back entrance which led directly to the parking lot. Sometimes fans and photographers nested outside the front, and he didn’t want to get caught. Even though this was a perfectly innocent situation, being photographed with Cristi wouldn’t look right, and he had no wish to put Lucky’s understanding to the test.
Once in the passenger seat of his Ferrari, Cristi let out a little sigh and said – all Miss California Clean-Cut – ‘I’d really enjoy having sex with you, Lennie.’
She made it sound so matter-of-fact he almost didn’t get it. But when she accompanied the words with a silky hand on his crotch, cleverly missing the gear shift by inches, he had no doubt of her intentions.
* * *
Pulling on a thick sweater and a pair of faded Levis, Lucky walked along the beach. It was deserted, windy, and dark. She stuck close to the shoreline, listening to the waves hitting the sand.
The solitude was enjoyable, giving her a great feeling of peace.
Being alone had never bothered her. Apart from her brother, Dario, she’d spent most of her childhood by herself and had gotten quite used to it.
Thinking about Dario made her shiver. Once they’d been each other’s lifelines, sharing every secret until she was sent away to boarding school. And then, after she was expelled, Gino had forced her into a marriage with Senator Peter Richmond’s dumb son, Craven.
Gino had thought he was doing her a big favour.
Ha! Some big favour. She’d shown him.
She remembered the first love of her life – Marco. Gorgeous Marco, with his dark curly hair, Mediterranean features, muscular build, and brooding good looks.
Ah, Marco… She’d loved him when she was fifteen, and bedded him when she was twenty-two. He’d first worked for Gino as a bodyguard and risen to casino manager.
When Marco was brutally gunned down she’d held him in her arms and felt his life slip away.
Taking revenge was satisfying. Above all she was a Santangelo. She was Gino’s daughter.
Gino had always labelled her a wild child. Now she was all grown up and had everything she’d ever wanted. Including Lennie. He made her laugh. He was her rock, her steadying influence. He was funny and warm and loving. She felt safe and protected when they were together. Lennie gave her more strength than she’d ever believed possible, and she loved him for it. That’s why she wanted to give him something back – and what better prize than a movie studio?
The wind whipped the pins from her hair and it flew around her face.
Time to head back.
* * *
There was that split-second almost automatic masculine reaction. Why not? Who’s going to know? Then Lennie removed Cristi’s enthusiastic hand, changed gears, and said, ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.’
Obviously this was the first time in her young and delectable life that Cristi had been turned down. To her credit she took it bravely. ‘My car’s at Joey’s,’ she said without taking a beat.
Lennie swung the Ferrari left on Sunset, and again at Nichols Canyon. They rode in silence.
Joey owned a large house halfway up the hill – a ramshackle place with a breathtaking view and hidden snakes slithering around in the bushes.
When they drew into the driveway Lennie leaned across and opened the door. ‘Don’t take it personally,’ he said, feeling some acknowledgement of her move was necessary. ‘I’m a very happily married man.’
Cristi was not at all put out. ‘Why should I? You’ll change your mind,’ she replied, confident and pretty as she climbed out of his c
ar and walked towards the front door, turning for a final wave, her pale hair catching the light on the porch.
Hey, before Lucky things might have been different… Now he couldn’t wait to get home and call his beautiful wife in New York.
* * *
Lucky turned around and began the long jog back. The beach was still deserted. The waves continued to hit the sand with monotonous regularity.
With a shudder she wondered what was out there hiding in the vast dark ocean. A recent news report had mentioned sharks venturing closer inland. Not that they were going to come sliding out of the sea onto the beach, but suddenly she felt an overwhelming desire to hurry back to the safety of the house.
* * *
The Ferrari made a noise that expensive Italian sports cars are never supposed to make and spluttered to a standstill in the middle of Sunset – opposite the Roxy, where groups of stoned, long-haired rock fans waited for the next heavy-metal concert.
‘Shit!’ Lennie muttered. He needed this like he needed the clap.
A patrol car cruised by and pulled up in front of him. The policeman who emerged was better-looking than Tom Selleck and wore his uniform well. He exhibited plenty of attitude as he sashayed towards Lennie. Big cock with a big gun. An unbeatable combination.
‘We got a little problem here?’ the cop drawled, a Southern import.
‘Nothing that a new engine won’t fix,’ Lennie replied.
‘Aren’t you—’ The cop hesitated for a moment, determined to get it right. ‘Lennie Golden!’ he announced triumphantly. ‘You’re some funny guy.’
Happiness is finding a policeman who’s a fan, Lennie thought. Sometimes it was just the opposite, and they broke your balls because of your celebrity.
‘I guess we gotta get you outta here before the crowds discover you,’ the cop said, doing nothing except standing by the stalled car while a traffic jam built up in the lane behind them and impatient horns began to blast.
‘That would be nice,’ Lennie agreed.
‘I came out to L.A. ten years ago,’ the cop continued conversationally. ‘Wanted to be an actor. I guess it didn’t work out.’ He fingered his holstered gun. ‘Being a cop ain’t all that bad. Sometimes I feel like an actor. Women really get off on the uniform.’ He smiled, pleased with himself. ‘Y’know what I mean?’
‘I know,’ Lennie said amicably, wishing this schmuck would get his shit together.
‘I bet you got a lotta women chasin’ you,’ the cop said with a lewd wink. ‘Famous ones, huh?’
Lennie ignored the comment. ‘Do we phone the Automobile Club or what?’ he asked, trying not to sound too irritable.
The policeman ran a stubby finger along the shiny paint of the Ferrari. ‘Anytime you got a part for a real live cop y’can call on Marion Wolff,’ he said casually.
Lennie frowned. ‘Who?’
‘Marion Wolff. That’s me. That’s my name. Y’see, my mom figured if they could give the name of Marion to John Wayne when he was born, then it was OK enough for me. An’ y’know something? My old mom was right. I kinda like the name Marion. It’s got character. What d’you think?’
Lennie shook his head, already working this whole routine into some future comedy schtick. Not that he did stand-up anymore – he’d passed on that a long time ago. But this could be a funny set piece for Letterman or Carson.
An older policeman emerged from the patrol car, a grizzled guy with a mean stomp to his walk. ‘Marion,’ he yelled gruffly, ‘what the fuck is goin’ on here? Ya want the whole of Sunset to grind to a fuckin’ stop or fuckin’ what? Get this Italian piece-a-shit tin outta here.’
‘Wally,’ the first cop announced proudly, ‘this here’s Lennie Golden.’
The old cop spat on the ground in disgust, completely unimpressed. ‘Marion,’ he said wearily, ‘who gives a flying fuck?’
* * *
It occurred to Lucky that Lennie might be out screwing around. The thought had never entered her mind before, because she knew they had something very special, and it was not to be put at risk by either of them. Jealousy was an emotion she wasn’t comfortable with. However, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Lennie was a very attractive man, a very famous man, a very fuckable man, and she’d been neglecting him for the last few weeks because she’d been so involved in putting the Panther Studios deal in place.
What if thoughts kept creeping into her mind.
What if Lennie was with another woman… ?
What if there was more than one woman… ?
What if…?
The telephone interrupted her reverie. ‘Yes?’ she answered sharply.
‘Who’s this?’
‘Who’s this?’
‘Lucky?’
‘Lennie?’
And together they both yelled, ‘WHERE ARE you?’
* * *
It was almost an hour before his cab pulled up in front of the house.
Lucky raced out of the front door to greet him, throwing herself into his arms.
He hugged her tight and kissed her, a long lingering soul kiss that excited the entranced cab driver no end.
‘Pay the man,’ Lucky said at last, extracting herself from his arms. ‘Then come in the house, lock the door, activate the answering machine, and do not speak to another human being for twenty-four hours.’
The cab driver leered. ‘Sounds good t’me.’
‘Goodbye,’ Lennie said, seeing the leering man on his way.
And so they fell into bed immediately, both craving the touch and sound and smell of the other.
No conversation. First sex. Fast, pure, exciting lust took over as he remembered her smooth body, silky skin, the tangle of her black hair, and the wildness of her lips.
She lost herself in his rhythm, luxuriating in the passion of his arms and legs and body language. Holding him in every way, a captive to her strong desire.
‘I love you, lady,’ he said as they rode the crest.
‘And I love you, husband,’ she managed, before losing herself in an orgasm that seemed to last an hour.
Later, in bed, there was warmed-up Indonesian lamb roast with thick peanut-butter sauce and Chinese pea pods.
They ate with their fingers from paper plates, tearing at the meat, dipping it into the creamy sauce, feeding each other and giggling like a couple of wired teenagers.
‘I never want to leave this bed,’ Lennie said happily. ‘This is it, lady. This is it.’
‘We waited a long time to get here,’ Lucky murmured softly.
‘We sure did. A lot of time wasted, huh?’
‘Not wasted, Lennie. We’re together now, and we’ll be together forever. We both know that, don’t we?’
Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her slowly and passionately.
She stroked his chest, delicate fingers touching his nipples, drifting down towards her real objective.
To her delight he responded immediately.
‘I’d hate to have met you when you were nineteen,’ she teased. ‘I bet you were the horniest guy in the neighbourhood!’
‘Don’t give me that story. You’d love to have met me when I was nineteen. Your life’s greatest wish – right?’
She laughed. ‘Right!’
‘I love you, beautiful lady.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
They held a long look. ‘Pass me the peanut-butter sauce,’ she said with a wicked smile. ‘I’ve got plans.’
He feigned alarm. ‘What plans?’
‘Lie back, Lennie, and don’t ask so many questions.’
* * *
In the morning they surfaced just before noon, automatically reaching for each other as if it were the most natural move in the world.
Outside, the sun attempted to break through the closed shades, and a dog barked incessantly.
They made love again, slowly, languorously, and when they were finally finished Lennie said, ‘What would the love of my life like to do today?’
Lucky stretched and smiled. ‘Take a shower with you. Take a walk along the beach with you. And then come straight back to bed without passing go.’
‘It sounds like the perfect day to me,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Only how about we cut out the shower and the walk?’
‘Don’t you think we need the exercise?’ she asked innocently.
‘I have exercises for you even Jane Fonda doesn’t know!’
‘You do?’
‘I’ll be your personal instructor.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
It wasn’t until later that they began to talk. Lennie had his usual list of complaints about the movie, and Lucky listened quietly, hugging to herself the knowledge that soon she was going to make everything OK.
‘I write new dialogue, the asshole director says great – fantastic stuff, Lennie. And then he doesn’t want to shoot it. I go to the dailies – I give my suggestions – they ignore ’em. Jesus H. Christ, they’re getting my input for free – you’d think they’d run with it, right?’
She nodded her agreement, stroking his back, lightly massaging his neck.
He lay face down on the bed, completely relaxed for the first time in weeks. Lucky was the only woman in the world who was able to draw every bit of tension out of him and make him feel this good.
‘We’ve got to think of a way to get you out of this contract,’ she said.
He admitted defeat. ‘As usual you were right. I’m gonna talk to my lawyer.’
‘Hold off until Macho Man is finished. That’s the time to make a move.’
‘Yeah, I guess so. How come you’re always right?’
She laughed. ‘’Cause I’m Gino’s daughter an’ he taught me good.’
‘Pretty damn good.’
‘Very good – and don’t you forget it, husband.’
He rolled over and grabbed her in a hug. ‘So – the big question. When are you coming to Acapulco? I need you there like immediately.’
Now came the crunch. She took a deep breath. ‘Uh, Lennie, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Acapulco.’
‘What?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Don’t get mad,’ she warned.
‘What?’ he repeated more forcefully.
She began the carefully rehearsed speech she’d planned. ‘There’s a huge business deal in Japan I have to take care of. If all goes as it should I’ll be out of there in a couple of weeks, and then I’ll stop off and see Bobby in London, maybe spend a few days at the office in New York. After that, I’m all yours.’
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