Double Lucky (17 page)

He redirected his attention to the TV, stuffed his face with a handful of popcorn, and settled back to enjoy the game.

*   *   *

Venus liked to drive herself whenever she could dodge the paparazzi who lurked outside her gates day and night waiting for her to emerge. A few months ago she'd come up with the perfect escape plan, eliciting the help of a friendly neighbor—a stoned record producer who'd allowed her to build an illegal underground tunnel into his garage, where she kept a dark blue Phaeton with blacked-out windows. Whenever she didn't feel like being followed she used the tunnel and took out the anonymous Phaeton, zooming past the hapless paparazzi who had no clue that it was her in the car.

Tonight she hurried through her escape tunnel, got in the car, and revved up the Phaeton—her low-key luxury vehicle. Outsmarting the paparazzi gave her a big charge. Fuck 'em. Oh sure, they had a job to do, but did they have to do it 24/7? It made her especially mad when Chyna was with her, and they stuck cameras in her child's face.

Cooper didn't seem to care. He was always allowing himself to be photographed with his cute and somewhat precocious little daughter. There they were in
People
and
Us
strolling down Rodeo eating ice cream, sitting courtside at the Lakers game, picking up shells on the beach in Malibu. Recently he'd added Mandy—his teenage girlfriend—to his family outings. Mandy was a publicity-crazy nineteen-year-old wannabe singer/actress/model, and Venus did not want her daughter being around the girl.

“It's not healthy for Chyna to be exposed to so much media,” she'd complained to Cooper, carefully not mentioning Mandy's name.

“Look who's talking,” Cooper had responded. “You're
queen
of the media, running around all over town with your young stud. Were you banging him when we were together?”

“No, Cooper—
you
were the one out getting laid. Remember?”

Another nasty verbal battle had then taken place, which was exactly what Venus didn't want. There was nothing worse for Chyna than having to watch her divorced parents fight.

At least their daughter was safely away at summer camp, and according to her e-mails and phone calls, she was having a fantastic time.

*   *   *

“Shit!” Billy exclaimed.

“What?” Kev responded.

“I think I got a problem.”

Kev burped and loped into the kitchen to fetch another beer.

Billy rolled off the couch and followed him. “Aren't you listening to me?” he said, scratching his crotch. “You're supposed to listen to me.”

“I'm listening,” Kev said, popping the top off a bottle of imported Carlsberg. “You got a freakin' problem. Spit it out.”

“Like
you
care.”

Kev took a swig of beer before giving his full attention to his best friend and employer. “Spill. What's the problem?”

“I think,” Billy said, vigorously scratching away, “I got me a case of the freakin' crabs.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“You're joking, aren't you?” Max said, staring at Ace wide-eyed.

“What do
you
think?” he answered with a sly grin.

“I think you're putting me on,” she said, struggling to remain cool in the face of his confession.

“Why's that?” he asked, staring her down.

“'Cause if you
were
planning on robbing a bank for real,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “there's no way you'd tell me.”

“Why not?” he said, shrugging. “It's not as if there's anything you can do about it.”

“I could go to the cops,” she answered boldly.

“An' tell 'em
what
?” he said, full of bravado.

“That … y'know…” She trailed off, aware that if she went to the cops she'd probably sound like a crazy person. And why
would
she go to the cops anyway? It wasn't her business what he planned to do.

“Yeah, go on,” he said, encouraging her.

“You're like eff-ing with me,” she said.

“If that's what you think.”

She didn't know what to think. But at least he was keeping her occupied until Internet Guy put in an appearance—that's if the jerk ever showed up.

They were standing outside Starbucks, and Ace made a move to go inside.

Max stood her ground. “I've decided I don't want a coffee,” she said petulantly. “I'm incredibly hungry. I need like real food.”

“Am I stopping you from eating?” he said, giving her a quizzical look.

“Y'know what?” she said boldly. “There's no need to sweat it, I can buy my own burger. All you have to do is point me in the direction of someplace that serves food, then go rob your bank.”

“Oh, Miss Cool,” he said, grinning, “doesn't give a fast crap.”

“It's not as if I believe you,” she said, tossing back her long hair.

“Nobody said you had to,” he answered. “An' by the way, how long you planning on waitin' around for your loser friend? 'Cause it looks t'me like he's a no-show.”

“He'll be here,” she said stubbornly.

“I sure hope so—otherwise it seems
I'm
stuck with you.”

“Wow!” she said, green eyes flashing danger. “You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.”

“How's that?”

“What makes you think you're
stuck
with me? I'm getting something to eat, then driving back to L.A.”

“You can't do that,” he said, straight-faced.

“Why not?”

“'Cause I might wanna use your car as my getaway vehicle. Y'know, after I rob the bank an' all.”

“
Whaaat?
”

“Hey—idea,” he said, laughing. “Maybe you could be my getaway
driver
.”

“You're looney-tunes,” she said, shaking her head in exasperation.

“You're not exactly sane,” he countered.

“
Excuse
me?” she said, thinking that although she hardly knew him, she was beginning to like him. A lot.

“Picking up some whacked-out loser on the Internet,” he continued. “Whaddya gonna
do
with him if he does appear?”

“You don't want to know,” she said in what she hoped was a mysterious tone.

“I get it,” Ace said, “you're gonna make out with this dude.”

“None of your business.”

“I'm guessin'. Boyfriend dumps you, an' this is your way of gettin' back at him. Am I on the right track?”

Max glared at him, deciding she didn't like him after all. How dare he be such a smart-ass. And how dare he figure out exactly what she was up to.

*   *   *

The dinner was great; everyone cleaned their plates. Lucky caught Lennie's eye across the table and he winked at her, assuring her that the family reunion was progressing smoothly. Lennie was her rock, always there, always positive.

Gino sat at the head of the table flanked by Venus on one side and Brigette on the other. Gino might be almost ninety-five, but he could still appreciate a beautiful woman, and Venus and Brigette were the cream.

Bobby was on the other side of Venus, then Lucky, and next to her sat her half-brother, Steven, his wife, Lina—the vivacious English ex-supermodel—and their exquisite little daughter, Carioca. Paige was next to Carioca, then Gino Junior and Lennie.

The family were all present except for Leonardo, who was at the same summer camp as Chyna, and Max—who Lucky realized had not bothered to check in. Two black marks against Max. First one for leaving without saying good-bye. Second one for not calling.

Lucky decided that when her daughter got back—and it had better be in time for Gino's party—they were due for a major sit-down.

“I'd like to propose a toast,” Gino said, tapping the side of his wineglass with a fork. The table fell silent. “My daughter,” he continued, “is not only beautiful, smart, an' one hell of a wife an' mother—she could get herself a job in an Italian restaurant any day. These friggin' meatballs.” He kissed the tips of his fingers and made a sucking noise. “
Bellissimo! Fantastico!
” He raised his glass, and his dark eyes met Lucky's. “To my daughter. Always remember, kiddo, girls can do anything. An' I do mean you.”

Lucky felt a sudden rush of emotion. For Gino to be so open with his feelings—especially in front of everyone—was not an everyday occurrence.

“Uh … thanks, Gino,” she managed, then lightening up she added, “Didn't know my meatballs would have such an effect.”

There was much laughter, then Bobby raised his glass to toast his grandfather. Soon everyone was adding comments and having fun.

Lucky looked around the table and felt fortunate to be part of such an interesting and sometime loving family. They were all individuals, but tonight everyone seemed to fit.

Later the family gathered in the large living room, catching up. Steven was talking away to Gino. Brigette and Lina, who'd once modeled together, were exchanging horror stories from their past. Carioca fell asleep with her head on Paige's knee, while Lennie, Bobby, and Gino Junior went outside onto the terrace and started up a challenging game of table tennis.

Finally Lucky had a chance to talk to Venus, who'd been quiet all night, which was so unlike her.

“What's up?” Lucky asked, pouring her friend a liqueur glass of limoncello, Venus's favorite after-dinner drink.

“Instinct. A feeling,” Venus replied, gesturing vaguely. “Nothing concrete.”

“Instinct about
what
?”

“Billy, of course,” Venus sighed.

“I thought the two of you were blissfully happy—what with his big cock and old soul.”

“Don't remind me,” Venus said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, c'mon, what happened?” Lucky pressed. “Did you have a fight?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then
what?
”

“Like I said, instinct.”

“That's not enough for me to comment on,” Lucky said, pouring herself a shot of limoncello. “You've got to give me more than that.”

“Okay,” Venus said patiently. “Here's the deal. We were supposed to go out tonight, have a quiet dinner together, then just as I was getting dressed, he called to cancel.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me he was tired, and that Alex had given him an early call for tomorrow. That's it.”

“Hey, if he has an early call, it's understandable, right?”

“I guess,” Venus said unsurely. “But then I offered to come over to his place, and he said no.”

“That's understandable too. Would you want someone coming over when you've got an early call? You of all people should know what it's like.”

“I'm getting the distinct impression you're on his side,” Venus said irritably.

“No way,” Lucky responded. “But I get it.”

“I wish I did,” Venus said, downing her limoncello in one swift gulp.

“You've got to give him space,” Lucky said, willing her friend to snap out of the ridiculous girly funk she was obviously in. This wasn't like the Venus she knew.

“Why's that?”

“'Cause if you don't, he's gonna feel crowded. And if you understand anything about men, they're all shit-scared of any hint of commitment. That's when they run. You know, ‘It's not you, it's me,' and all that crap they come out with.”

“I think I know why he's acting like this,” Venus mused. “It's all this press stuff that never stops. Morons writing trash about us, delving into our innermost thoughts. We need to get away to some unreachable island.”

“Nowhere's unreachable today,” Lucky pointed out. “They'll follow you with their long-range lenses and there'll be even more photos.”

“I'm just … I dunno,” Venus said, gesturing helplessly. “I guess I'm depressed.”

“Billy cancels one dinner and you're depressed,” Lucky said. “This isn't like you, Venus. Where's the kick-ass girl I used to know?”

“It's not just him backing out of one dinner. He's pulling away, I can feel it.”

“Oh, for God's sake, you're not a kid,” Lucky snapped, fast running out of sympathy. “Why don't you
ask
him what's going on?”

“'Cause if I ask, he might say he doesn't want to be with me anymore. Then what?”

“Then you'll hook up with somebody else,” Lucky said patiently.

“It's not that easy.”

“You've never had a problem before.”

“I know, but this time I've done something really foolish.”

“C'mon, let's hear it, what now?”

“I've gone and fallen in love.”

*   *   *

Finally Henry made it to Big Bear. He drove directly to the Kmart parking lot, got out of his car, and looked around. He seemed to remember that Max said she drove a BMW, but he couldn't recall if she'd mentioned what color it was. He knew he'd recognize her once he saw her, because she'd posted her picture and he had a copy in his wallet. She resembled a very young version of Lucky Santangelo, the woman who'd stolen his future.

Oh yes, he was about to make sure that Lucky's daughter paid dearly for her mother's mistake.

He limped into the store cursing his bad leg, for there were times he yearned to move faster. He'd been dealt a bad hand, although not quite as bad as his dearly departed father.

He moved slowly, checking out the aisles one by one, realizing that they hadn't fixed a time, and since it was now late afternoon, would she have waited for him to arrive?

Why not? he reasoned. After all, she'd come all this way.

A large black woman brushed against him. He hissed an insult under his breath.