Confessions of a Wild Child (21 page)

A compliment indeed.

Craven stares at me open-mouthed. ‘You’re so p . . . pretty,’ he stammers. Senator Richmond throws me a few lecherous looks, while Mrs Senator has nothing to say.

Is this my new life? Spending all my time with these people? Because I’m sure that Gino will be on the vanishing list once he’s got me safely married off. What a relief it must be for him. No more worries about his errant daughter, she’s tucked away in Washington with the Richmonds.

I think about what he’s done. He’s virtually delivered me to the Richmonds in exchange for not revealing Peter’s dalliance with the delectable Ms Blue. And it’s obvious they don’t mind
that
much, because who else were they going to unload Craven on? He’s not exactly Mister Personality of the Year.

Gino doesn’t know it yet, but he owes me big-time. I
will
work alongside him. I
will
be heir to the family business. One of these days it’ll happen. Oh yes, Washington is just a stepping stone. A place for me to bide my time.

People keep coming over to our table and congratulating us. The news is out. Apparently so are the wedding invitations, which I haven’t even seen. Why would I? I’m only the bride.

Craven sits beside me, a peacock smile on his long thin face. He’s such a sad sack that I can’t even bring myself to hate him. It’s not his fault we’re stuck in this circumstance.

I think about our wedding night and shudder. Ugh! Will I really have to do it with him?

I can’t imagine. I am convinced that although he’s older than me he’s totally inexperienced, whereas I – even though I’ve never gone all the way – have plenty of moves.

Truth is, I’m probably a bit sex-crazy, hormones raging, all that stuff. Girls can want it just as much as boys do, and that doesn’t make them sluts. Sex is all about equality – nobody scoring off anyone else, just good healthy sex. It’s a given.

I wonder what Marco’s like in bed. No doubt awesome. When I pressed my lips against his it was pure heaven. Too bad he’s driven me to hate him.

And because I’m thinking about him, naturally he appears, whispers something in Gino’s ear, and, after excusing himself, Gino goes off with Marco. I wonder what’s up. I want to be a part of it. I can solve problems too.

‘Your father is a busy man,’ Betty remarks, tapping talon-like nails on the tabletop.

Not as busy as Peter
, I want to say. The Marabelle Blue pix of him and her having crazy sex are still burned into my mind, probably never to be forgotten.

Dinner concludes without the return of Gino. I wonder where he is. What dire crisis has arisen that he has to deal with.

Once again Craven escorts me to the elevator. Once again I receive a chaste kiss on the cheek.

This is turning into a ritual. At least I have the arrival of Dario to look forward to.

Tomorrow is another day, and I am determined to make the best of it.

Chapter Forty-Three

I
love my brother and, man, he’s looking fantastic! Tall and blond and hot! We hug and kiss and dance around the penthouse like a couple of maniacs. He’s my family, and I am so thrilled to see him.

When he emerges from his bedroom, Gino acts as if he’s pleased too. He claps Dario on the shoulders and gives him a manly hug. Dario towers over him.

‘This is it,’ Gino says, his voice deep and full of pride. ‘Your first Vegas trip, Dario. You gotta get stuck in, kid, gotta learn about the family business, ’cause one day you’ll be runnin’ the whole shebang. You’ll be takin’ over from me.’

I note the widening of Dario’s devastatingly blue eyes.

‘Yeah, Dad,’ he mumbles, because what else
can
he say?

‘Marco’s gonna show you the set-up,’ Gino continues. ‘Give you an idea of how we do things around here.’

‘Can he show me too?’ I pipe up.

Gino shakes his head like he can’t really be bothered to reply.

‘When you gonna get it into your thick head, Lucky?’ he growls. ‘You’re a girl. Girls an’ business don’t cut it. You’re gettin’ married into an important family, an’ before you know it you’ll be poppin’ out babies, so quit with the whinin’.’

Am I whining? I don’t think so. I am merely making a request to receive equal treatment with my brother. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so, for I’ve put an annoyed expression on Gino’s face.

Screw him. He’s on my hate list again. He had someone take sneak photos of his so-called movie-star girlfriend getting down and dirty with the senator. Not nice. Not nice at all.

I keep my cool – fighting with Gino will get me nowhere. I just have this huge fear for Dario, because if Gino gets so much as an inkling that Dario is gay . . .

I shudder to think of the consequences.

Before I can launch into a battle with Gino, both Marco and Flora put in an appearance. Marco to take Dario on a tour of the hotel, and Flora to escort me to meet with Betty Richmond and her wedding planner.

Sighing, I go with Flora and her fake boobs, although I would much prefer to be on the hotel tour with Dario.

‘See you at lunch,’ I call out to Dario.

He throws me a slightly panic-stricken look. The last thing he’s interested in is being taught the intricacies of building an enormous hotel and casino, then running it. Dario is no Gino.
I
am. Only Daddy Dearest doesn’t seem to get it.

Reluctantly, Dario goes off with Marco – whom I totally ignore. He doesn’t deserve so much as a good morning from me. We are over. OVER.

Sorry, Marco, you had your chance and you blew it
.

*  *  *

Ah, the wedding planner, a slim, trim, bird-like woman with darting eyes, plumped-up lips and a bad wig – at least it looks like a wig to me. Her name is Talia Primm, and she is no Raoul.

Flora delivers me and leaves.

Miss Primm is armed with notebooks and charts and samples of various items. She obviously means business, for there is no friendly conversation, just a brusque – ‘We have to move fast, Lucky, no dilly-dallying. Decisions must be immediate and final if I’m to pull this off.’

Like I care. I don’t. I’m not interested in choosing flower arrangements, tablecloths, music, food, the cake. One day, when and if I have a proper wedding – one that means something to me – that’s the time I’ll get into all the details.

Betty Richmond is not present, she probably has better things to do with her time, like maybe spy on her horny husband.

I wonder if Betty cheats too. Probably not, who would want her?

After an hour of boring decisions, I tell Miss Primm that she is way more equipped to handle everything than I am, and whatever she decides is fine with me.

She raises a thinly pencilled eyebrow, and is it my imagination or does her wig shift slightly?

‘Most brides are adamant about what they want,’ she says. ‘You don’t seem overly concerned.’

I shrug. ‘I’m young,’ I murmur. ‘You know better than me what’ll work. You’re the expert.’

Flattery does it every time. Miss Primm gives a tight smile and bobs her head. Once again I’m sure I see her wig shift.

‘Very well, Lucky, I will take it upon myself to make sure everything is perfect,’ she says, clicking her teeth.

‘I know you will,’ I answer, heading for the door.

Flora was due to meet me after two hours with Miss Primm, but since I am out of there early I am free to roam. Something Gino obviously doesn’t want me to do.

Is he scared I’ll make a run for it?

Probably.

I spend my free hour wandering around the hotel. There is so much to see – a variety of restaurants and coffee shops, a spa, two magnificent swimming pools, a mini golf course, a theatre. And, located to the side of the hotel, a bunch of luxury villas reserved for high rollers.

The entire hotel is a wonderland of activity. Then there’s the casino itself, the real moneymaker, where it all happens.

This is where I discover Raoul at a blackjack table, accompanied by a young Asian guy in a smart grey suit.

‘Hey—’ I say, hovering.

‘Good morning, gypsy girl,’ Raoul responds, flashing his whiter-than-white teeth.

Gypsy girl, my new nickname, I love it!

Seeing Raoul lifts my spirits, he has a zest for life that is catching.

‘I expect you’re wondering when your wedding dress will arrive,’ he says, indicating to the dealer that he’s ready to cash in.

‘Only one dress?’ I say. ‘What if I don’t like it?’

‘Trust me, child,’ Raoul assures me, pushing his chair away from the table. ‘You will.’

I do trust him – I can’t wait to see what he’s picked out for me. One thing I’m sure of, it won’t be a traditional wedding dress. Raoul has an eye for what I like, or so I hope.

‘Is it black?’ I ask mischievously. ‘A Goth wedding dress would suit me fine.’

‘I’m sure it would,’ Raoul opines. ‘And my reputation would therefore be shot to hell.’

I giggle.

He smiles.

The young Asian man follows us out of the casino.

‘Meet Akio,’ Raoul says, with a casual wave of his hand. ‘My partner in love.’

I gather they’re a couple, not a random pick-up as I’d assumed at first sight.

‘Why don’t you join me and my brother for lunch?’ I suggest. ‘You’ll really like Dario, he’s special.’

I want to add –
and he plays for your team
. Only I don’t, because it’s up to Dario who he tells and who he doesn’t.

Raoul turns to Akio as if
he’s
the decision maker, which strikes me as odd since Akio has to be at least fifteen years younger than Raoul.

Akio gives a stiff nod. A man of few words. I hope that Dario doesn’t mind me inviting them. It’s not just because they’re gay that I did so, it’s because I like Raoul a lot and I think Dario will too.

Raoul takes my arm. ‘And what have
you
been up to, young lady?’ he asks.

‘Well,’ I reply, realizing I have nothing exciting to report. ‘I met with the wedding planner Mrs Richmond flew in.’

Raoul rolls his eyes. ‘Talia Primm,’ he says with a weary sigh. ‘Miss Pain-in-the-Arse, as she’s known around town.’

I giggle at the way he pronounces ass. It sounds so proper, said with an English accent.

‘Did Miss Primm attempt to boss you around?’ he enquires.

‘Not really. I simply told her that she could make all the decisions, which seemed to please her.’

‘Wise child,’ Raoul says.

And so we proceed to the restaurant.

Chapter Forty-Four

I
had no idea Dario could cast such a spell, but the moment Raoul meets him there is chemistry in the air. Raoul, a sophisticated and worldly man in his forties, and my teenage beautiful blond brother. Wow! Who would’ve thought?

Akio is not pleased – he senses it too and keeps on shooting Dario dagger-filled glares of meanness.

Dario seems oblivious. He rattles on about school and painting and books he’s enjoyed reading, while Raoul – surprisingly silent – drinks in every word.

Does Dario understand the effect he’s having?

I doubt it.

The truth is I have no idea how deep Dario is into the gay thing. Maybe it’s just a phase. Or maybe not. I’m at a loss.

I need to find out – do gay people take one look at each other and just know?

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 enquire 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 jetblack 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 non-starter. 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 any more. I’ll be my own person, an adult.’