Drop Dead Beautiful (46 page)

“Do I look like the kinda dude who
has
a tuxedo?” he said, giving her a quizzical look.

“No,” she said, hardly able to take her eyes off him. “But I told you the opening was like, black tie, didn’t I?”

“How do
I
know what black tie means? I brought a suit and I brought a tie. Sorry—neither of them are black.”

“We could rent you a tuxedo,” she suggested.

“No thanks.”

“Why not?”

“The penguin look doesn’t suit me.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Kinda,” he replied.

“Let’s go down to the kitchen then.”

He followed her downstairs where she asked Philippe to make them a sandwich. Then she led him out to the pool.

“This place is like something out of a movie,” he marveled. “It’s so big.”

“Our house in Malibu is much nicer. I love the ocean, don’t you?”

“Philippe brought them out toasted-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches and a selection of soft drinks.

“You really live the cushy life, don’t you?” Ace said.

“Uh, how’s your girlfriend?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

He threw her a penetrating look. “If I was still with her, do you think I’d be here?”

“You mean you broke up?” she said, attempting to sound casual, but desperate to find out everything.

“You got it.”

“What happened?”

“She dumped me.”

“
She
dumped
you?
”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d she do that?”

“’Cause I was supposed to meet her the night we got kidnapped, and when I never turned up she was pissed, so she went off with one of my friends.”

“Wow! That’s not nice.”

“This is even not nicer—they both got drunk and got it on. When I found out, it was my turn to be pissed, so I guess you could say we kinda dumped each other. End of story.”

She was dying to ask him a ton more questions, but then she figured it wouldn’t be cool if she showed too much interest.

“What’s going on with you an’ your boyfriend?” he asked, springing open a can of Coke.

“Uh … we broke up,” she mumbled.

“Who did the dumping?”

“Who do you think?”

“You?”

“I caught him out with another girl, so I said good-bye.”

“We’re some pair.”

“
Are
we a pair?” she asked hopefully.

“No, we’re two people who just got caught up in a bad scene and now we’re friends.”

“Sure we are.”

“Hey, Max, I’m not forgetting how old you are, so don’t go reading anything into this trip.”

“What’s my age got to do with anything?” she said, irritated.

“You’re sixteen, Max. I’m here as your friend an’ that’s all.”

“Ooh,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll. “And there was little old me thinking you came to ravish my teenage body.”

“I came ’cause I needed to get away,” he said, quite serious.

“Not to see me?”

“To see you too. Oh yeah,” he added, lightening up, “an’ to get that twenty bucks you owe me.”

“Like I’d forget,” she said, digging in her jeans pocket and handing him a couple of crumpled tens. “See, I had it all ready for you.”

“I was kidding.”

“It’s your money, take it.”

Later they met up with Cookie and Harry at the Cheesecake Factory in Beverly Hills.

Cookie took one look at Ace and liked what she saw. “Definite babe magnet,” she mouthed to Max behind his back.

“Ace just broke up with his girlfriend,” Max announced as they sat down.

“That’s convenient,” Harry said, paler than ever. “Now you two can get it on.”

Max threw him a furious look.

“My dad’s taking a plane up to Vegas tomorrow, so if we don’t feel like driving, we can fly with him,” Cookie said, ordering a Diet Coke. “Anyone wanna do that?”

“I thought we were testing out my new car,” Harry interjected. “Got a few records I wanna break.”

“What do
you
feel like doing?” Max asked, turning to Ace.

“You people are unbelievable,” he said, wondering what he was doing hanging out with this bunch of rich kids with
whom he had nothing in common. “Planes, new cars—I’m not used to this.”

“Yeah, well, since you and Max are hooking up, you’d better get used to it,” Harry said, picking up the menu.

“Nobody’s hooking up,” Max replied, glaring at him. What was wrong with Harry? He was behaving like a dick.

“That’s right,” Ace said. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?” Cookie said disbelievingly.

“I guess Max told you what happened to us?” Ace said. “It was some screwed-up experience.”

“Yeah, like
major
spooky,” Cookie said. “I warned her about weirdos online, but Max never listens to anyone.”

“Please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” Max said quickly.

“I was all for going to the cops,” Ace said. “She wouldn’t let me.”

“Good boy,” Harry sneered. “You’ll find it pays to be obedient around our Max, she’s a total control freak.”

“Shut
up
, Harry,” Max warned. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he answered sulkily.

“Max told us you were kinda like a superhero,” Cookie said. “Y’know, rescuing her, getting her outta there.”

“I did what I had to,” Ace said modestly, while Harry made a face and pretended to throw up.

During the course of the dinner, Max discovered several things about Ace. He did not smoke, he did not do drugs, and he went to church with his brother every Sunday. He was so unlike most of the boys she knew, and she was fast becoming totally crazy about him. By the time they’d finished eating and had made their way to the club Harry was so sure they’d get into, she was feeling quite dizzy, and not in a bad way.

Harry circumvented the line outside the club and marched up to the burly doorman, who was unimpressed— especially when Harry started yelling and waving hundred-dollar bills around. It made no difference. Underage was underage, and they couldn’t get in.

“This is bullshit,” Ace said, grabbing Max’s arm. “Let’s split.”

“Sure,” she said, nudging Cookie, who got the message and dragged Harry away from the entrance to the club and back to his car.

“I’ll drive,” Ace said.

“No way,” Harry objected, swaying slightly.

“You’re stoned,” Ace accused.

“No way,” Harry repeated, glaring at him.

Crap! Max thought. So this is why Harry is acting like such a prick. Ace is right. He’s totally stoned
.

“Hey,” Ace said forcefully. “Either
I
drive or we’re getting a cab.”

“Go ahead,” Harry said belligerently, spiky black hair standing on end.

“Cool it, Harry,” Cookie said, stepping between them. “Let Ace drive. What’s your problem?”

“It’s
my
car and I’m driving it,” Harry shouted. “So you can all go fuck off.”

“He’s not usually like this,” Max whispered to Ace. “I don’t know what’s up with him.”

“Listen,” Ace said. “He’s your friend, and I’m sorry, but neither of us are getting in a car with him.”

“What about Cookie?”

“She shouldn’t drive with him either. Tell her.”

“Cookie, come with us,” Max said.

“I’ll stick with Harry,” Cookie decided. “He’s not
that
stoned. You two take off, we’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m so sorry about Harry,” Max said as she and Ace walked off down Hollywood Boulevard.

“Those two are your best friends?” he said.

“They’re normally great, but lately they’re into this whole getting-stoned mind trip. It’s not
my
idea of a fun time.”

“Glad to hear it. I went through that phase when I was sixteen, but I didn’t drive. Truth is I didn’t have a car.”

“My mom thinks doing drugs is totally uncool. That’s one thing we agree on.”

He took her hand as a couple of suspicious-looking guys walked toward them.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said, loving the way her hand felt in his.

“I’m not getting in a car with Harry tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll take my brother’s truck.”

“Really?”

“Your friend is on a roll, Max. I don’t want to be around when he crashes and burns.”

“Isn’t that like rather dramatic?” she said, looking up at him.

“Maybe, but it’s what happens.”

“Harry’s going through a tough time. His dad is some kind of mogul, and his mom’s a born-again. They went through a bad divorce, plus he’s stuck in the closet, so he’s major screwed up. Cookie, Harry, and me have been best friends since we were like five years old.”

“I understand, an’ I’m not being difficult, but you don’t wanna get in a car with somebody when they’re high.”

“Okay, we’ll take your truck, and they can either go in Cookie’s dad’s plane or drive.”

“Who’s Cookie’s dad?”

“He’s a famous soul singer. Gerald M. You heard of him?”

“Nope.”

“You really do live in the boondocks, don’t you?”

“You sound like a Beverly Hills brat when you say things like that.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said defensively. “You should meet my grandfather, he’s a real character, he built hotels in Vegas way back. He’s ninety-five now. My parents were way pissed I missed his party.”

“Your parents sound interesting.”

“My dad’s the greatest. He started out as a comedian, then he became a movie star, now he writes and directs movies.”

“I know, I looked him up on my brother’s computer.”

“Oh, so you
do
have e-mail at your house. How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Max,” he said, giving her another one of his penetrating looks. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you.”

“Like what?”

“Like one of these days—if we stay friends—you’ll find out.”

Chapter 75

The Grill was a speed demon. It would have taken a normal person an hour to get to the house and back, but The Grill managed to make it in half the time.

He entered Anthony’s office and handed him the small hidden camera that he’d installed in the master bedroom at his boss’s house the day before.

“You arranged for the car bringing my wife here to be delayed?” Anthony asked.

The Grill nodded.

“Get out,” Anthony ordered. “And tell my secretary nobody’s to disturb me.”

“Yes, boss,” The Grill said as he left the office.

Anthony connected the small spy camera to the TV before switching it on. He wasn’t sure what he was about to see, but whatever it was it would either validate what Cesar had told him, or it would make the man out to be a liar, in which case Cesar would be severely punished before his ass was fired.

Working the remote, Anthony sped through the scenes of the empty bedroom, stopping when Irma appeared. He observed her enter the room and walk straight over to the window.

What was she doing at the window? He couldn’t tell.

She looked out of the window for a few minutes before turning around and leaving the room.

He fast-forwarded again until she returned. Only this time she was not alone—this time there was a man with her.

Anthony’s back stiffened as the man followed Irma into their bedroom. Then the bitch locked the door, she locked the fuckin’ door!

Anthony sat very still watching intently as his wife began talking to the man, saying something Anthony couldn’t hear. He adjusted the sound and rewound to make sure he missed nothing.

“Luis,” Irma said, “what is going on with you?”

“ ’Scuse,
señora
,” the man muttered.

“Don’t call me
señora
,” Irma said. “My name is Irma. You know that.”

“
Sí
, Irma,” the man said.

Anthony pressed Pause and rewound again, just to make sure he was catching every word.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married and your wife was pregnant?” Irma said as the tape continued.

The man shrugged and looked away. But then to Anthony’s fury, the son of a bitch turned toward her, and in a most familiar fashion placed his fuckin’ hand on her right breast.

Anthony leaned forward, hardly believing his own eyes. That Irma would
dare
to do this was beyond his comprehension.

Within seconds the man began undoing the buttons on her blouse. Next he unhooked the clip on the front of her bra, exposing her breasts.

Anthony attempted to keep his breathing even, but the anger that was building inside him was getting ready to explode.

“Oh, Luis,” Irma sighed, throwing her head back in abandon.

The man, or Luis, as that was obviously the bastard’s name, lightly brushed her nipples with his fingertips before bringing his lips down to suck on them.

She did
not
object.
His wife did not object!

“Son of a mothafuckin’
bitch!”
Anthony screamed, his face reddening. “Cheating fuckin’ WHORE!”

Irma sighed the name “Luis” again before the prick swept
her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed where he proceeded to make love to her.

ANOTHER MAN WAS FUCKING HIS WIFE. ANTHONY BONAR’S WIFE! AND THE CUNT WAS ENJOYING IT!

Anthony could feel the bile rising in his throat. This was the woman he’d married, the woman he’d given his name to, the
mother
of his children.

This woman was nothing but a prostitute, a douche bag, an unfaithful cheating CUNT.

Abruptly Anthony switched off the TV and summoned The Grill.

The big man entered his office and stood at attention.

“I have a job for you to take care of,” Anthony instructed. “A job that needs to be executed immediately.”

The driver took Irma to the same restaurant where she and Anthony had lunched the day before. She was not happy because the driver had insisted on making several stops along the way, claiming he was running errands for Señor Bonar. After the third stop she complained bitterly that she would be late for lunch and Señor Bonar would be very angry if she was late.

The driver shrugged and informed her that he was only following Señor Bonar’s orders.

Irma decided she would tell Anthony she did not wish to use this particular driver again—he was insolent.