Wanna Get Lucky? (42 page)

“Tired?” Teddie asked. He sat in a chair on the other side of the room, legs crossed, head back.

“What a day,” I sighed as I burrowed into the welcoming embrace
of the soft cushions. “I’m so tired I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”

Teddie unfolded himself and walked over to me. “Lie down.”

I looked up at him—he looked absolutely delicious—but there was no way. “As interested as I am, I can’t muster the energy. Besides, there’s no lock on the door.”

“On your stomach,” he said with a grin. “I can’t solve your problems, but I can give a pretty fair back rub.”

A
half an hour later, and just as I was starting to loosen up a bit as Teddie kneaded the knots in my neck, Mona blew through the door like a cyclone. Her hair pulled back, her makeup understated, dressed in creased blue jeans and a starched white shirt, she looked like a nice little housewife from the suburbs. If only wishing could make it so.

“Lucky! Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Mother. He’s still in surgery. It’ll be couple of hours yet.” I couldn’t move—I didn’t want to. Teddie’s back rubs were even better than advertised.

“A little lower there on the right,” I directed him. He did as I asked. “Oh yeah. Right there.”

“Lucky!” For a moment I thought Mona was going to stamp her foot.

“Mother, relax. We’ve all had a hell of a day. Getting all worked up isn’t going to make anything better.”

She seemed to sag under the truth. “It makes
me
feel better, though.”

“I know what you mean.” Like mother, like daughter—scary thought. “Mother, you remember Teddie?”

My mother found her manners. “Theodore, I’m sorry. How are you?”

“In love with your daughter, but otherwise pretty good.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mona said with a grin, then shook her head. “Poor, poor fellow.”

“Help me up.” I rolled over and Teddie pulled me, groaning, to
my feet. I ran a hand through my hair then brushed down my blouse and slacks. I bet I looked as bad as I felt. “Okay, let’s all try to get a little rest. They’ll find us when they have any news.”

I helped Mother unfold the chair into a bed, while Teddie rounded up blankets and pillows. After she was settled, I tucked a blanket around her, then bent down and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mom.”

“I’ve always loved you,” she murmured, her eyes heavy with the weight of a long day. “Maybe I wasn’t a good mother sometimes, but I always tried to do what was best for you.”

“I know. You did great.” I stood and looked down at her. What a bad hand she’d been dealt, and yet she had triumphed in her own way. She raised a daughter. Kept the daughter away from the pitfalls she herself had fallen into. She helped other young women escape their own bad choices. And she’d loved a good man. All together a fairly successful life. I only hoped I did as well.

“Mom, I need to know one thing.”

“Only one?” She gave me a tight, worried smile.

“At some point, The Big Boss could’ve picked us, but he didn’t. He chose his hotels instead.”

“About twenty years ago, he wanted to give it all up. Throw it all away. I wouldn’t let him.” Mother’s eyes shone with her conviction, but she couldn’t mask the pain.

“You wouldn’t?” I could only imagine how much that cost her. “Why not?”

“Both your father and I came from dirt-poor families. We both knew what it was like to not know when we’d eat again, to not have heat in the dead of winter, to struggle into clothes several sizes too small so that we would at least have something to cover us.” Her eyes glazed for a moment, clouded with memories, none of which seemed pleasant. “We both were the products of alcoholic parents who couldn’t cope with life.”

She patted the chair beside her. As I sat next to her, she took my hand, turned it over, and absentmindedly traced the lines of my palm. “But, a tough life made tough adults out of us. When you
came along, both of us would have given our lives to make sure you didn’t have to go through what we had as children.”

“You gave up your chance for me?”

“You were the bridge—even though we weren’t together, we were joined. It was enough—it had to be.” She turned my hand over and pressed it to her cheek as she shut her eyes. “And don’t ever think I was unhappy. Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I whispered as I brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “You rest now. I doubt any of us will sleep, but try to relax.”

Teddie had kicked off his shoes and was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Come here.” He pulled a blanket over us as we lay together, his arms around me, my head on his shoulder, one leg tucked between his. I couldn’t get any closer without crawling inside him.

“I never got to thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“Your phone call. Harvard not only accepted Mrs. Paisley’s grandson, they awarded him a partial scholarship as well.”

“What good is all that money I give them every year if it doesn’t buy me some stroke with the old alma mater?” Teddie’s voice reverberated in his chest under my ear. “He was well qualified, so it didn’t take much.”

“Thank you just the same. Mrs. Paisley is a peach—one of the good people of the world.”

“You would know.” He kissed my forehead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Only if it can be answered in short sentences and small words. Mental acuity is failing by the second.”

“You turned down Dane?”

“Just the thought of you turns a bad day into a brilliant one. When something wonderful happens, you’re the first person I want to share it with. When something bad happens, you’re the only one who can make me feel better. You laugh at my jokes, even when they aren’t that funny. In return, you make me laugh even when I
don’t feel like laughing. You are thoughtful and kind and the world is a better place because you’re in it. And, perhaps best of all, you love me in spite of myself.”

I found an opening in his shirt and touched his skin. I heard his sharp intake of breath. “In addition, as sort of an added benefit, do you feel that?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Even the sound of your voice does that to me.” I unbuttoned one button and put my hand flat on his stomach, and felt his skin warm under my touch.

Dane hadn’t stood a chance.

T
he front door to my office opened, and a heartbeat later Miss Patterson appeared in my doorway. Today she wore brown slacks and a dusty-blue silk shirt, sexy heels and a single diamond drop around her neck, which matched the ones in her ears. Her short blonde ’do looked hip and fun. Her eyes shone brightly—even after only a few hours of sleep. Every time I looked at her, it was a bit of a shock—I still wasn’t used to the total transformation.

“Whoa! How long have you been here?” She glanced around taking in my uncluttered desk—you could now see the top—a rich, finely grained black walnut.

I held up my finger for her to wait a moment as I scanned down the page in my hand, signed my name, then carefully placed the paper on the top of a stack that was now at least six inches high. “All
of those are ready to go.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine thirty. “I’ve been here three hours or so. It’s amazing how much you can get done when the office is quiet.”

“How’s The Big Boss?”

“The doctor awakened me at four thirty, just after they’d finished. The surgery went well. According to him, The Big Boss will be better than new—eventually. His recuperation could take a bit. Knowing The Big Boss, he’ll love that.”

I didn’t tell her I’d left Mona in recovery holding The Big Boss’s hand and waiting for him to wake up. I’d had to threaten all kinds of legal action and bodily harm to convince the staff to allow Mona in there, but The Big Boss would get his wish.

I also didn’t tell her I’d left Teddie sleeping—I hadn’t had the heart to wake him when the doctor came to get me. Of course, Teddie might not thank me for leaving him there—in that bed by himself, he was in danger of having some nurse walk in and jab a thermometer into an orifice. His problem, not mine. Right now I had enough of my own.

I levered myself out of the chair. My butt was numb—I hadn’t sat that long in forever. Stepping around the desk, I checked my appearance in the mirror—it was amazing what a hot shower and a change of clothes could do. Dark Chanel suit, red silk camisole to match my red Stuart Weitzman heels, enough gold and diamonds to impress the money crowd, soft hair, very little makeup, and, for once, no dark circles. I was ready. “Time to do battle.”

THE
boardroom occupied a prime corner on the top floor, just down the hall from The Big Boss’s suite. As I readied myself, I couldn’t remember a time I had been there without The Big Boss. Even though I knew I wouldn’t find him. I still looked for him among the thirteen suits—four of them women—seated at the big oval table when I pushed through the door then closed it behind me. Among the faces that turned toward me, I found Irv Gittings and gave him a smile.

He winked at me.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Rothstein will not be here today. For those of you I haven’t met before, I am Lucky O’Toole, an executive of this hotel, and I will be serving in his stead. In the packet of papers in front of each of you, you will find the proper documentation to allow me to do that.” I took The Big Boss’s seat at the head of the table. “Before we begin, are there any questions?”

No one said a word as I glanced from face to face—some were old, some young, some pretty, some bland. Five directors were from New York and represented our corporate minority shareholders. Seven directors were local and generally sided with The Big Boss, the Babylon’s controlling shareholder. Two of those seven were technically my superiors at the Babylon—the director of operations and the treasurer—although in actuality, I reported directly to The Big Boss. I nodded to them. Not being a director, Irv sat to the side.

“Very well then, let’s begin.” I watched the faces watching me as we went through the whole
Robert’s Rules of Order
thing, calling the meeting to order and reciting the list of attendees, making sure we had a quorum. That out of the way, I dove into the meat of the meeting. “As you may have noticed, we have a guest, Mr. Irv Gittings.” I watched the faces, looking for signs of Irv’s coconspirators. I didn’t know if he had infiltrated our board or not, but I suspected he’d at least made forays in that direction. And The Big Boss always told me to know my enemies.

“Mr. Gittings has asked to address the board, so, before we get down to business, I suggest we listen to what he has to say.” I motioned to Irv. “Mr. Gittings.”

Heads swiveled as Irv rose and walked over to my side.

Dressed in an exquisitely tailored gunmetal-gray suit, with the tiniest silver pinstripe, gray tie and light lavender shirt, Irv was the personification of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He rested his hand on my shoulder as he turned to address the assemblage.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure you’re wondering why Mr. Rothstein isn’t here today. I’m wondering the same thing, but I think I have an explanation for you.” He pulled a DVD out of his coat pocket and held it up for the room to see. “This is video footage of the young woman
falling to her death last weekend from a helicopter owned by this hotel. I’m sure you are all aware of the incident.” He paused, looking at each director in turn for signs of assent.

Getting them, he squeezed my shoulder, and continued. “You may not know that the police have evidence that strongly suggests the young woman was murdered.”

A collective gasp rose from Irv’s audience. I had to hand it to him—he had them right where he wanted them.

“And . . .” He waggled the DVD for attention. “This footage shows that Mr. Rothstein was in the helicopter.” With each word, Irv’s voice rose to a final crescendo. “In fact, he was in the backseat of the helicopter with the young woman when she fell.”

The room erupted in a chatter of voices. Irv had a satisfied grin on his face as he looked down at me. I grinned back.

Irv raised his voice to be heard. “In fact, I bet the police are looking for Mr. Rothstein right now. Isn’t that right Ms. O’Toole?”