Lady Boss (49 page)

The car swerved along the highway. Eddie's driving was erratic to say the least.

He pressed on. ‘How come you never told me about Madame Loretta before?'

‘You never asked,' she replied quietly.

He glanced in his rear-view mirror. ‘Oh, I'm supposed to ask, am I? Hey, Leslie, babe, you friendly with a whoremonger? Is that what I'm supposed to ask – that kind of shit?'

Her eyes filled with tears. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was just sleeping over. It was his fault in the first place. This wasn't fair. ‘Eddie, please. Don't be mad at me. I'm very tired,' she pleaded.

‘
You're
tired,' he said, outraged by her selfishness. ‘What the fuck do you think
I
am? I've got this hood Bonnatti breathing all over me. It's a responsibility I don't need.'

She sighed. ‘How did you find yourself in this position? If you and Mickey are partners why doesn't the studio pay?'

‘It's not exactly Mickey who owes the money,' he grumbled. ‘The fact is we had an arrangement, and, uh, I guess I sliced a little too much off the end. I didn't think anybody would notice. Trouble is, they did.'

She was relieved to have steered the conversation away from Madame Loretta. ‘We're talking about a million dollars, Eddie.'

‘I know, I know. I had some debts to pay. Gotta face it, cocaine ain't cheap.'

‘What you should do,' she said firmly, ‘is forget about the debt and check yourself into a detox centre. I'll support you, Eddie. I'll be by your side.'

‘You don't seem to understand,' he said urgently. ‘Carlo Bonnatti is threatening to break more than my balls if I don't pay.'

‘That's ridiculous,' Leslie gasped. ‘Things like that only happen in gangster movies.'

‘Honey,' he said dryly, ‘welcome to the real world.'

* * *

Mickey joined his sister- and brother-in-law for dinner, his mind in fast forward. He had so much to take care of and yet he had to sit there and suffer through polite bullshit. The main topic of conversation concerned Abe Panther. What could the meeting on Monday morning possibly be about?

Mickey shrugged. ‘I got no idea. We're making money, the studio's doing well. The old man should stay home an' stay happy. We don't need his interference.'

Ben Harrison didn't seem to agree. ‘You know, Mickey,' he said thoughtfully, ‘maybe Abe doesn't like the films the studio is producing. I have to tell you, I saw
Motherfaker
and it's a disaster. It's a movie I wouldn't want my mother to see – or, come to think of it, my sisters either.'

‘Yeah, well, everybody else in the country's going to love it,' Mickey said defensively. ‘This is the kind of movie they're clamouring for today.'

‘I don't know.' Ben shook his head doubtfully. ‘It'll do a big weekend gross and then fall down. There'll be no word of mouth. In fact the word of mouth will be: stay away.'

‘Johnny Romano's a big star,' Mickey pointed out. ‘The public is crazy about him.'

‘He loves himself,' Ben replied evenly. ‘That much is obvious. Who had control over him? Didn't anybody try to pull in the reins?' He lowered his voice. ‘You know how many times he says “motherfucker”? Not to mention the other actors.'

Primrose heard him anyway. ‘Ben!' she admonished, ‘Kindly don't use language like that.'

Mickey raised an eyebrow. Primrose lived in England for a few years and suddenly she became the Queen Mother!

Jeffries, the butler, entered the room. ‘There is a phone call for you, Mr. Stolli,' he said, looking down his long thin nose.

‘Who is it?' Mickey asked rudely. ‘I'm eating dinner.'

‘He said it was most important. A Mr. Bonnatti.'

‘Bonnatti?'

‘That is correct, sir.'

This was not turning out to be a good day.

Sitting on the Swanson private jet, Venus Maria felt a million miles away from the scrawny little kid who'd lingered on Fifth Avenue and watched from afar as Martin Swanson married Deena Akveld. It was unbelievable really. Here she was with Cooper Turner, famous movie star, on one side, and Martin Swanson, billionaire, on the other. And she had them both under her spell.

Venus Maria smiled. It was kind of a kick. In a way she wished Ron was there to witness it. He'd love every minute.

Martin leaned over to speak to her. ‘Why did you ask Cooper?' he said in a low voice. ‘What do we need him for?'

‘Cooper's your best friend,' she replied guilelessly. ‘I thought you'd be pleased.'

‘I'm not pleased,' he said irritably. ‘A romantic day for two in San Francisco hardly works when it's for three.'

She laughed softly. Was Martin jealous? ‘Don't be silly. Cooper's hardly a drag. He'll find plenty to do.'

‘He'll go off and leave us alone, will he?' Martin asked sarcastically.

‘No,' she replied firmly. ‘The three of us are going to have a fantastic time together.' She kissed him on the cheek, flicking her tongue into his ear just to give him a little taste of things to come. ‘I'm going to freshen up,' she added, excusing herself.

As she wandered off down the plane she winked at Cooper.

Now was the time for him to have a serious talk with Martin and find out his intentions.

The Swanson jet was luxurious, to say the least. It was set up like an amazing apartment, with a living room, functional stainless-steel Space Age kitchen, glamourous bedroom, and two marble bathrooms.

She shut herself in the bedroom, closed the door, and threw herself on the circular bed.
Hey, this is great
, she thought.
Maybe he'll lend it to me for the tour
.

Not exactly subtle. They still had to keep their relationship quiet.

In San Francisco they were met by a limousine and taken straight to the penthouse suite of the Fairmont Hotel to freshen up. Martin had a short business meeting to attend, so Venus Maria and Cooper admired the panoramic view and ordered a bottle of champagne.

‘So?' she demanded anxiously. ‘Did you talk to him? What did he have to say?'

Cooper considered his reply. In his opinion Martin didn't have the balls to leave Deena. He was enjoying his affair with Venus – and indeed who wouldn't? – but he wasn't prepared to screw up his perfect marriage. Deena represented stability. She was his wife and they'd achieved a certain social standing that Martin was not ready to give up.

But
his
opinion was not what Venus wanted to hear.

‘Hey,' he said, ‘you know Martin – Mister Closed Mouth.'

She was disappointed. ‘Do you mean to tell me you couldn't get
anything
out of him?'

‘He thinks you're fantastic.'

‘Yes?'

‘Oh, yes.'

‘Is that all?'

‘Just that I agree with him.'

She laughed, not taking him seriously at all. ‘You would!'

Later the three of them dined at Stars, causing quite a sensation.

‘You see,' Venus Maria whispered to Martin. ‘It's good that Cooper's with us. Now everybody will think he and I are an item. Can you imagine if we were spotted in San Francisco alone together?'

‘It was a wise decision,' he agreed.

She hammered the point home. ‘There's only one way we can be seen out in public, and that's if you split with your wife.'

It was not the first time she'd said something like that to him.

He didn't reply.

After dinner they drove down to the bay and drank strong cappuccinos in a small, crowded café. Women appeared from nowhere, strutting their stuff in the hope of getting noticed. Cooper Turner and Martin Swanson in the same place at the same time – what an irresistible challenge! Men eyed Venus Maria up and down. And so did the women. Martin and Cooper gave her their full attention.

‘Don't you feel like getting laid?' Venus teased, flirting with Cooper, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

‘Getting laid today is a perilous business,' he replied, perfectly serious. ‘I need to know their sexual history for the past seven years. It takes time and energy. Not like the old days. I'm too tired.'

Martin shot him a look. ‘I never thought I'd hear
you
say that.'

Venus Maria shook her platinum curls. ‘Oh, he's
always
saying that. Take no notice.'

Cooper smiled. ‘I'm saving myself.'

‘Who for?' she asked curiously.

‘I'll let you know when she comes along.'

He held her gaze.

She looked away.

Later they boarded Martin's plane and flew back to L.A.

‘Do you want to stay at my house?' she asked Martin.

‘I'm desperate to stay at your house,' he replied. ‘I didn't fly in early for my health.'

‘Just the two of us this time,' she promised.

‘No more games?'

Was it her imagination, or did he sound just the tiniest bit disappointed?

‘Yes, Martin. Just the two of us.'

They said goodbye to Cooper in the limo.

‘I'll call you tomorrow,' she said. Cooper was rapidly turning into her best friend.

‘Tomorrow,' he said.

‘Goodnight.' She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

And then she was alone with Martin.

* * *

Dennis Walla stared at the current edition of
Truth and Fact
. At this very moment it was being delivered all over the country. The front page was the strongest layout he'd seen in a long time. It made the latest headlines in the
Enquirer
and
Star
look sick.

First of all there were the headings in blazing red letters:

MARTIN SWANSON – BILLIONAIRE LOVER!

VENUS MARIA AND COOPER TURNER!

THE HEIRESS AND THE WIFE!

Surrounding these headings were five photographs. In the centre was the large picture of Venus Maria with Martin Swanson. On the left, a small shot of Venus entering Spago with Cooper Turner. Beneath that, another photo of Venus and Cooper, taken on the set. And the two smaller photographs on the right were of Deena Swanson and Paul Webster in Central Park, and Paul strolling along the street with Brigette Stanislopoulos.

Dennis was more than delighted. He'd never expected this to turn out to be such an important story. At first it was merely going to be Emilio's revelations about Venus Maria. Now they'd held that part of the story for the following week, and this week they'd concentrated on the various romantic entanglements of the main players. Excellent coverage!

Bert Slocombe had really come up trumps when he'd discovered Deena stepping out. But he'd doubled Dennis's pleasure when he'd managed to catch a photo of Deena's toy boy with Brigette Stanislopoulos, the teenage shipping heiress. What a coup!

There was more copy above the photographs:

BILLIONAIRE'S MISTRESS IS VENUS MARIA!

BROKEN WIFE DEENA SEES YOUNGER MAN!

DOES COOPER KNOW SHE'S CHEATING?

Dennis Walla threw the magazine down on his coffee table. He was well pleased. As far as he was concerned every editor in town was going to be after him.

Dennis Walla was about to become the hottest tabloid journalist in the world.

* * *

Without the silken bindings and the two exotic hookers to excite him, sex with Martin seemed a little pedestrian. He was too fast in every way.

Much to Venus Maria's chagrin, foreplay seemed to have gone by the board, and all he could give her was a cursory going-over. Sex by numbers. Touch the breasts for twenty-five seconds, move the hands down, spread the legs, and go for it.

Venus Maria was disappointed. This wasn't the way she liked to make love at all. He had no stamina either. It was all over in minutes.

‘What's the matter with you tonight?' she asked edgily, feeling totally unsatisfied.

Obviously he wasn't aware anything was amiss. ‘Aren't you happy?' he said.

She frowned. ‘No, I'm not particularly happy. It was so quick.'

Martin seemed unconcerned. ‘What did you expect?' he said, yawning. ‘It seems like I've been on planes for the last twenty-four hours. I'm not Superman.'

You can say that again
, she thought bitterly.

Venus Maria hated bad sex. It made her feel dirty and used. Sex was supposed to be long and leisurely and satisfying.

Bad sex reminded her of the sort of behaviour her brothers used to dish out to the neighbourhood girls who would come to the old house in Brooklyn whining and crying about their treatment.

It was quite obvious her brothers considered women were put on the earth to clean, cook, fuck, and shut up.

Charming monsters.

Observing them had given Venus Maria a great deal of determination to make it as a strong woman, capable of anything. And she'd done it. She'd really done it!

Now that she was a modern-day sex symbol it had to drive her brothers crazy.

She jumped out of bed and marched into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Damn Martin. Did he expect silken ties and two hookers every time they did it?

She imagined that Cooper Turner didn't need any props. He was probably a master between the sheets. Well, he'd had enough experience over the years, hadn't he? Mister Casanova – the Don Juan of Hollywood.

She wouldn't care to go to bed with him. God, no! The comparisons! He'd had some of the most beautiful women in the world.

Ah… the Cooper Turner Hall of Fame. Venus Maria planned
never
to be part of
that
long parade.

Martin was asleep when she returned to the bedroom. He lay on his side, snoring loudly.

Maybe she wasn't being fair. He'd had a long journey and was probably exhausted.

She snuggled into bed beside him and closed her eyes. It took forty-five minutes before she was able to fall asleep.