Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (63 page)

She looked as beautiful
as he remembered, and just as lethal.
 
There was a reason she kept looking at him.
 
Did she know who he was, or was she
trying to place him?
 
That night on
the ship, he wore dark glasses to fit in with the late-summer party goers, all
of whom were freshly back from their time spent in the Hamptons or along the
Maine coast.
 
He couldn’t wear
sunglasses here since he wasn’t on a ship, and since this was a far more formal
affair.
 

But that likely was a
blessing.
 
Those glasses had
shielded a good deal of his face, so if Epifania did think she recognized him
and came over to him, he might be able to throw her off by suggesting that
they’d never met.

For now, he pretended to
ignore her.
 
He looked straight
ahead, but kept Epifania in his periphery.
 
If she did decide that he was the man last seen with her husband, and
she wanted to ask him what happened when they stepped off the boat, he might
have to deal with her, especially if her tone was confrontational.

He had yet to see George
Redman, but he’d only been here for twenty minutes.
 
When he arrived, he passed through
security without a hitch despite what was concealed within his belt.
 
He found the bar, ordered a drink, and
hadn’t moved from the spot there where he could assess the situation and just
how tight security was.
 
It was
better than it had been three years ago, but then it had to be, didn’t it?

Still, it was nothing
Spocatti couldn’t handle.
 
He knew
this hotel, and while the exterior had been renovated, nothing inside had
changed.
 
He knew where the
elevators were, where the washrooms were, where the servers prepared the food,
and every other place that Ryan had shown him before so he could plan for the
unexpected, like Epifania Zapopa, who now was walking over to him, her legs
already unsteady.
 
She was
thin—too thin—and obviously a little drunk.
 
How many had she had so early in the evening?
 
The party had just started.
 

Unless it began at
home....

“You,” she said, holding
out a full martini glass in his direction.
 
“How do I know you?
 
You look
familiar.
 
Where we meet?”

He kept his voice
low.
 
“Excuse me?”

“Oh, please,” she
said.
 
“Just don’t, OK?
 
Don’t act like the other
gilipollas
in here, who can’t stand me because Charles and I got caught doing it
doggy-style on his ex-wife’s prized rug.
 
These bastards tossed me into the pits of hell because of that.
 
So don’t do that.
 
OK?
 
I can’t stand it when people do that, and it happens every day.
 
You and I know each other, but I can’t
place from where.
 
Help a girl
out.
 
You’re cute.”
 
She shimmied in front of him, and her
drink sloshed onto the floor, which made her laugh, but made others look at her
with annoyance.
 
“You look like
Zapopa material.
 
You look like
Zapopa’s new Papi.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Zapopa, I
don’t believe we’ve met.
 
I’m
Vicenzo Massara.”
 
He extended his
hand, which she just looked at.
 
“It’s
a pleasure.”

“Vicenzo Massara?
 
That’s not your name.
 
I thought it was Anthony.
 
Tony.
 
Antonio.
 
Something like that.
 
I have a mind like a
trampa
.”

He lowered his hand.
 
“Like a what?”

“Silly, Papi.
 
Not a tramp.
 
A
trampa
.
 
A trap.
 
Papi has one thing on his mind.
 
Always does.”
 

She leered at him with
hooded eyes, and he knew at that point that Epifania Zapopa already had waded
too far into the drink.
 
There was
no saving her now.
 

“
Papi, usted es tan
caliente
.”

So, now she thinks I’m
hot.
 
Move on.
 
“
Papi no sabe lo que está
hablando.
 
Perdón.
”

“
Su nombre es Tony.
 
Or close to that.
 
I remember you.
 
I just don’t know from where.”

“My name isn’t Tony, Ms.
Zapopa.
 
It’s Vicenzo.”
 
He was aware of people looking
sympathetically at him when he moved past her.
 
He gave them a look of weary
frustration.
 
“Take care of
yourself, Epifania.
 
Have some
water.
 
Good night.”

But Epifania Zapopa,
recently widowed and desperate for attention, wasn’t about to give up now.

“We dance later,” she
said.
 
“
Tú y yo.
 
In front of everyone.
 
We show these pricks how it’s done.
 
We take to floor, we get applause.
 
Epifania Zapopa earn her applause!
 
So will you, Papi, but mostly because
you
chisporrotear
.
 
Las
mujeres se caerá todo se ha acabado para ti.
”

Spocatti held up his hand
and moved deep into the crowd.
 
When
he did, he not only heard Epifania Zapopa making obscene noises behind him, but
he finally came upon George Redman, who was to his right, talking to a group of
people who were beaming up at him, as if he were the Chosen One.
 
Two men in black tie stood behind
Redman.
 
Spocatti watched him move
to another group.
 
The men
followed.
 
Security.
 
Spocatti was certain that those men were
instructed to follow him everywhere tonight, and he also was fairly sure that
walking through the crowd were additional members of Redman’s security team,
also dressed in black tie.
 
Listening.
 
Eavesdropping.
 
Watching.
 
So, if he couldn’t get him alone, he’d
just deal with all of them, which he was prepared to do.

A hand fell on his
shoulder.
 
He turned and faced a
grinning Epifania Zapopa.

“Ms. Zapopa,” he said,
irritated.

“I know who you are,” she
said.
 
“Epifania remembers now.
 
You were at the Fondaras party.
 
You said I was in all the international
papers.
 
You were kind to me, which
never happens.
 
You asked me to get
my husband for you.
 
You were the
last one with him.
 
I saw you leave
the ship together.”
 

Spocatti stood completely
still.
 
If he had to, he’d lead her
to the dance floor and hold her so close.
 
He’d cut off her breath and she’d pass out in his arms.

But
Epifania surprised him.
  
She
leaned forward, pressed her formidable breasts against his chest and then
whispered in his ear.
 
“It’s all
right, Papi.
 
Relax.
 
Your secret safe with me.
 
Because of you, I rich woman now.
 
Properties, properties everywhere.
 
More millions than even Madonna.
 
Oh, and I own big chunks of Apple and
Google, which people tell me is good thing.
 
So good!
 
I hated Charles, you know?
 
You saw it on my face that night, and
you saved me from having a life with him.
 
Now, tell Epifania, Papi.
 
You’re here for a reason.
 
How can Epifania help?”

CHAPTER
NINETY-ONE

Pepper Redman had heard
her name mentioned so many times and so favorably in the past two hours by so
many people who mattered to her—people she had read about long before she
entered Wharton—that she felt as if she was moving through a never ending
high.

Their approval of her
work was the realization of a dream.

“So, you’re Pepper,” one
older woman said.
 
“I’ve heard such
good things about you.
 
You’ve done
a wonderful job tonight.
 
Did you
select the orchestra?
 
They’re
divoon.
 
We must have lunch so you
can give me their information and so we can get to know one another.”

“Pepper Redman,” one
businessman said.
 
“Your uncle has
been singing your praises for the past few months, and now I see why.
 
Beautiful job tonight.
 
You know, just this week, my wife and I
bought an apartment at your uncle’s building on Columbus?
 
Your work with Hugo Morel is what sold
us on buying it, not to mention the views.
 
The staging of that apartment was impeccable.
 
Bar none.”

She thanked the man,
refusing to say that it was Leana who had staged the apartment with Morel.

Fuck her.

“You must be Pepper.
 
I’ve seen your face in the society pages
and in the business pages.
 
I’m so
happy that your uncle has found someone in the family as formidable as Celina.”

And on and on it
went.
 
With Parker at her side, who
was among the most handsome and dapper of the men at the party, she was set
adrift.
 
How could this be her
life?
 
This went beyond any dreams
she had as a child.
 
Back then, she
was just plain fat Penelope from Arkansas, swatting bugs and sulking on the
back porch of her parents’ dilapidated home.
 
Even then, as a young girl, she knew
that living there was unnecessary because her Uncle George repeatedly offered
to bring her father into his thriving business.

But he never went.
 
His pride kept them in poverty in
Arkansas, and the family suffered as a result.
 
She’d never forgive him for it,
especially since she knew then that all of this could have been hers.

She looked around the
glittering room, felt Parker’s hand placed firmly against her back, and warmed
to it.
 
He was the perfect
gentleman—an intelligent companion who assimilated with the sort of ease
that surprised even her.
 
He came off
well schooled and interesting, even though he didn’t have a job, which she’d
fix within the week.
 
Parker was a
keeper.
 
This night was something
that could crush many people, yet he seemed to be thriving while still allowing
her to shine.

“Are you having a good
time?” he asked.

“I’m having the time of
my life.
 
Are you having fun?”

“I always have fun when
I’m with you.”

“Parker, sometimes I
think you’re one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

“I’ve been there for
awhile, Pepper.
 
It took you
longer.
 
But you’re here, and that
makes me happy.”
 
He stopped for a
moment and looked up at the towering mezzanine.
 
He looked at its shops and restaurants,
and at the wide band of water that flowed in a seamless stream from the ceiling
down into a pool of light that glowed and sparkled.
 
“Why didn’t you open up the mezzanine
tonight?
 
People could have looked
around.”

“Security wouldn’t let
us.
 
We need to be down here.
 
They said it would be safer that way.”

“How safe do you feel
right now?”

“I actually feel good.”

He held her closer and
lowered his lips to her ear, which made her shiver, especially when the stubble
on his chin brushed her lobe.
 
“Want
to feel great?”

“Parker....”

“Give me fifteen minutes,
and I’ll make this a night you’ll never forget.
 
Is there a way up there that’s
private?
 
You know, so no one would
notice if we left for a few minutes?”

“I don’t—”

“I want to fuck you,
Pepper,” he whispered in her ear before tasting it discreetly with his
tongue.
 
“I can’t wait until later
tonight.
 
I’ve been walking around
with a hard-on for the past hour.
 
Ever since you reached out and grabbed my hand.
 
You might as well have grabbed my
cock.
 
You know how big it is.
 
You think it’s easy for me to hide it?
 
It isn’t.
 
Come on.
 
Just fifteen minutes.
 
This party has hours left to it.
 
I promise I won’t be too rough.
 
No one will know.
 
I thought you took risks?”