Drop Dead Beautiful (33 page)

“You’re not?” he said, stroking her leg.

“No, Lennie,” she said, removing his hand. “I have a bitch of a headache, even my eyes hurt.”

“It’s not a headache, sweetheart, it’s a hangover. You were drinking champagne.”

“Don’t remind me. Champagne
always
gives me a mother of a headache. Why did you let me drink it?”

“Why did
I
let you?” he said, amused. “When have I ever stopped you from doing anything?”

“That’s true,” she admitted. “Still… I’m sorry we missed the fight,” she added, stifling a yawn.

“I’m not. Had more fun making out in the bathroom with you. Now, that’s
my
idea of a party.”

“I guess I’d better get up,” she said, sliding out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Can you call downstairs and check if Max is back?”

Lennie buzzed Philippe in the kitchen and asked the question.

“She’s not back,” he called out. “Everyone else is assembling for breakfast.”

“Son of a
bitch!”
Lucky exclaimed, emerging from the bathroom. “I’m supposed to fly back to Vegas today, but there’s no way I can go until I look her in the eye and tell her
exactly
how I feel about her missing Gino’s birthday.”

“Go to Vegas. I’ll deal with Max.”

“Lennie, when it comes to our daughter you’re a softie and she knows it.”

“Listen,” he said. “You’ve got a hotel to open. You can’t let Max distract you.”

“It’s hardly a distraction, more an act of war,” she said, pulling on black workout pants and a long-sleeved Nike T-shirt. “Plus I’m worried about her.”

“You are?”

“Why do you think she called Gino Granddad on her message?”

“Who knows?” Lennie said, tying his robe. “Could be she was feeling guilty about missing his party.”

“I’m starting to have a bad feeling about things.”

“What things?”

“We can’t reach our daughter. We have no idea who she’s with. The whole situation is giving me negative vibes, and you’re totally calm about it.”

“She’s on her way home, Lucky.”

“And what if she’s
not?
What if she’s run off to Vegas and gotten married?”

“Are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t put doing something totally crazy past her. Who knows
what
she’s capable of?”

“Yeah, but married? Our Max? In Vegas? Forget about it.”

“I hope I’m wrong, but my instincts tell me we shouldn’t be hanging around waiting for her to show. We should be doing something.”

“Such as?”

“Looking for her, Lennie. How about that?”

“And where do you suggest we start?”

“I wish I knew, but I don’t, so I’m calling Cookie. She might remember something she’s not telling us.”

“What about your trip?”

“Vegas will have to wait.”

“I think Billy’s adorable,” Brigette said, helping herself to a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon from the buffet Philippe had set up in the breakfast room. “And Alex is nothing but a big old bully.”

“Hey,” Bobby said, drinking a large cup of black coffee, “are you forgetting it was Billy who took the first shot? What was Alex supposed to do, just stand there?”

“He didn’t have to pound Billy into the ground,” Brigette retorted, sitting down at the table.

“Got a little crush, have we?” Bobby said, teasing her. “If Venus finds out—”

“Oh, yes,” Brigette said quickly. “And talking of crushes, I couldn’t help noticing that you were all over Venus like a cheap suit!”

“Nothing cheap about me,” Bobby responded, cracking a grin. “And isn’t she a bit
old
for me?”

“You know what they say,
Uncle
—a woman in her forties is in her sexual prime, and a man in his twenties has it all going on. So … get her to dump Billy and the two of you can swing from the chandeliers!”

“C’mon, Brig,” he objected, “she’s my
mother’s
best friend.”

“All the better,” Brigette said crisply. “That way you can keep it in the family.”

“Man, you’ve got a mouth on you,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “From little Miss Shy to the mouth that roared!”

“I wasn’t always sweet little Brigette, sitting in my apartment quiet as a church mouse,” she said. “No, there was a time I was out there being used and abused by a series of assholes.”

“Hey, listen, whatever turns you on.”

“But that’s exactly the point, it
didn’t
turn me on. The last
one almost killed me. Left me to die in some ramshackle farmhouse outside of Rome, pregnant. I lost the baby and practically bled to death.”

“I guess an experience like that would turn anyone into a shut-in.”

“Thank God for Lucky, she was the one who saved me. Without her intervention who knows what would’ve happened.”

“That’s my mom,” Bobby said, going over to the buffet table and helping himself to a bagel. “She’s pretty adept at saving people.”

“You’re so fortunate having her as your mother,” Brigette sighed.

“An’ don’t I know it,” Bobby agreed, sitting down next to her.

“Anyway,” Brigette said. “I enjoyed coming to L.A. with you, and last night was a fun party. Seeing all my old friends was quite a kick. Did you know that Lina and I used to model together?”

“Wow!” Bobby exclaimed, whistling admiringly. “The two of you must have been some hot combination.”

“We were,” she said, smiling at the memories. “Between us we ruled L.A., New York, Milan, Paris.”

“I bet you did.”

“Good times while they lasted.”

“Hey, Brig, here’s an idea,” he said, chewing on his bagel. “When we get back to New York, you should start hanging out with me. I’ve decided to make it my mission to find you a guy who’s not an asshole.”

“No thanks, Bobby.”

“Why not?”

“ ’Cause I’m perfectly content being man-free,” she said firmly. “One of these days you’ll learn. Love is a tough road, and believe me, the highs are not worth the lows.”

“
Very
philosophical.”

“I try.”

“And so pretty while she’s trying,” he said, making major eye contact.

“If you weren’t my uncle, I’d think you were flirting,” Brigette said, half smiling.

“Who, me?”

“You’re a dog, Bobby. The kind of guy I would’ve been attracted to before I learned better.”

“That’s insulting,” he said, not insulted at all.

“How many girls did you sleep with and not call back last year?”

“Hey,” he objected.

“I thought so,” she said triumphantly. “You’re a dog.”

“Who’s a dog?” Lucky asked, entering the room.

“Your son.”

“That’s okay,” Lucky said, pouring herself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. “He’s twenty-three, he’s entitled to enjoy himself.”

“Not if he treats women badly.”

“Who said I treat women badly?” Bobby spluttered. “I take ’em out to dinner, buy ’em presents—”

“Sleep with them, then run like thunder,” Brigette said, finishing the sentence for him.

“Nice opinion you have of me,” Bobby said cheerfully.

“Took me years to figure out men,” Brigette said. “I think I’ve finally got it down.”

“So cynical for one so young,” Lucky said, sitting at the table.

“Yes,” Brigette agreed, quite enjoying the banter. “And you, Lucky, better than anyone, know why.”

“That’s true,” Lucky said.

Philippe entered the breakfast room looking quite flustered for once.

“Everything all right?” Lucky asked.

“There’s twenty men dismantling the tent,” Philippe said. “May I suggest everyone stays out of their way until they’re finished?”

“Why? Is someone in their way?” Lucky asked.

“Gino Junior and his friends.”

“I’ll talk to him, Philippe.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Golden. Oh, and this was in the mailbox,” he added, handing her the now-familiar envelope.

“What’s that?” Bobby said, pouncing.

“Just another one of those stupid invitations,” she said, tearing it open.

Bobby grabbed it from her. The same three words were scrawled on the card:
Drop Dead Beautiful
.

“We need to get someone on this,” he said.

“No we don’t,” Lucky said.

“At least put in extra security cameras by the mailbox so we can see who’s delivering the envelopes.”

“Okay, if it’ll make you happy I’ll have Philippe arrange it.”

“
I’ll
tell him.”

“That’s fine.”

Satisfied, Bobby poured himself another cup of coffee. “Max back yet?” he asked. “Be nice to see her before we take off.”

“She’ll be back today,” Lucky said, not prepared to share her daughter’s bad behavior with everyone.

“Thought she was coming back for Gino’s party,” Bobby said.

“So did I. But you know Max …”

“Yeah, right.”

“What time are you leaving?”

“Around two. Thought I’d hang out with Gino before he heads off to Palm Springs. He told me he’s taken up golf.”

“Gino? Golf?” Lennie said, strolling into the room and heading straight for the coffee. “Now,
that
I’d like to see.”

“I wouldn’t,” Lucky said. “The thought of Gino on a golf course with a bunch of old-fart buddies hitting a ball around is
not
the Gino I know and love.”

“Ha!” Bobby said. “You’d like him to be all Brando-like, sitting in a room handing out favors to the neighborhood peasants!”

“You have a brilliant imagination, Bobby,” Lucky said coolly.

“Didn’t Gino used to—”

“Okay,” Lucky said as Gino Junior came in with two of his friends. “That’s enough.”

“But Mom—”

“Enough, I said. And you,” she added, talking to Gino Junior, “leave the people dismantling the tent alone, they’ve got a job to do.”

“We were only goofing around, Mom.”

“Then don’t. Okay?”

Since when had she become the mother figure? The disciplinarian?

Well … having kids did that to a person.

She couldn’t wait to get back to Vegas and her hotel. Right now that’s where she belonged.

They were opening in two weeks and she
had
to be there,
wanted
to be there.

As soon as she tracked down Max she’d be on her way.

Chapter 52

After making himself a cup of tea, Henry returned to his rollaway bed, where he attempted to go back to sleep and summon up the magnificent and magical dream he’d experienced earlier.

Ah … Maria. All over him. So young and innocent.

Maria, his dream girl.

The title he’d bestowed on her excited him, making him more anxious than ever to see her.

Once more he got out of bed, wondering if it was too early to wake her. Today he would fix her a proper breakfast, eggs and bacon with toast and strawberry jam.

Yes, he decided, she would like that, unless she didn’t eat bacon. Perhaps she was a vegetarian. He needed to know more about her. He needed to know everything about her.

He wondered what his mother would have to say on the day he brought Maria home. He rehearsed the scene in his head, imagining the look of surprise on Penelope’s face.

“
Good morning, Mother.”

“
Good morning, dear.”

“
I would like you to meet Maria, the girl I’m going to marry.”

“
She’s very pretty, dear. And she looks smart too. Are you sure she’s not too pretty and smart for you?”

Dammit! That was not the way the scene was supposed to go. Penelope Whitfield-Simmons even controlled his daydreams with her caustic remarks.

Ever since he could remember, his mother had put him down, belittled him, treated him with no respect. She’d never told him he was clever or handsome or any of the things a son wants to hear from his mother. She’d never hugged him or kissed him. It simply wasn’t fair.

He steamed about his mother for a moment or two, then realized she wasn’t there to annoy him with her nasty spiteful remarks. He was on his own, free to do whatever he wished.

And he wished to see Maria.

He got out of bed, dressed, and carefully began to prepare his loved one her breakfast.

“You got your car keys?” Ace asked.

“What do you think?” Max snapped back. She knew she shouldn’t be taking her bad mood out on Ace, since he’d basically saved her, but she couldn’t help herself.

They were sitting in the back of a battered Chevrolet Impala driven by an elderly man with his redheaded thirteen-year-old grandson in the passenger seat beside him.

Fortunately, the old man couldn’t see that well, so at the behest of his grandson, who’d spotted Max in her torn jeans and tight tank top standing by the side of the road, he’d stopped for them and was giving them a ride into town.

Max slumped against the seat in the back. She was exhausted, everything hurt, and she was scared of going home. She was certain that if Lucky ever found out the truth, she’d ground her forever. She’d missed Gino’s big party, and in Lucky’s eyes there would be no excuse for that, especially as she’d faithfully promised to be there. Her life was about to turn into pure crap.

“It’s okay if you don’t have keys,” Ace said. “I can hotwire it.”

The thirteen-year-old swiveled his head, staring at Max’s boobs, his teenage lust bursting out all over. “You know how to hot-wire a car?” he asked, still staring at Max’s chest. “Awesome!”

“He knows,” Max answered, indicating Ace. “He robs banks, hot-wires cars, he’s a regular man of all trades.”

“Awesome!” the boy repeated.

Ace took a swig from the water bottle the old man had offered, then passed it to Max. She took a couple of gulps. Now that they were almost safe, her nerves were beginning to kick in. What was she going to tell Lucky? Definitely not the truth, it was too stupid and humiliating, plus Lucky would never let her forget it.

She decided to go with the carjacked story. That was her safest bet.

“You happen to have a phone?” Ace asked the kid.

“I wish,” the boy said. “Grandpa thinks cell phones rot the brain.”

“Who do you want to phone?” Max asked, shooting Ace a sideways glance. He was still a major hottie, in spite of his bedraggled appearance.