Lovers & Players (8 page)

O
pening her eyes, Amy was overcome with a hangover from hell and, even worse, she was filled with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. What had she done? What totally
insane
thing had she done?

Lying in bed, the covers pulled tightly to her chin, she began to go over the chain of events that had led her to cheat on her fiancé. First there was the bachelorette party, then the drinking and taking a few hits on a joint. Followed by more drinking and slow-dancing with a guy who was
so
enticing and attractive that she’d ended up going to his apartment and having sex. Great sex. Mind-blowing sex. The kind of sex she was supposed to have with Max on their wedding night.

Oh, God, she’d
slept
with a total stranger. Given up her virginity to a man she’d just met. And as far as she could remember, she’d actually
enjoyed
it!

Why
had she allowed herself to do it? How could she have betrayed Max in such a way? It was so
wrong
.

Suffused with even more guilt, she got up and made her way into the shower, thinking about how she’d woken at four a.m., grabbed her clothes and hurried from his apartment. Downstairs in his building she’d taken a quick peek at the mailbox. Apartment 10A. S. Lucas.

What did the S stand for? Steven? Sonny? Scott? It would have been nice to know his name.

Out on the street she’d hailed a passing cab and huddled on the back seat until it delivered her home. Safely in her own apartment, she’d thrown off her clothes and crawled into bed.

Now it was four hours later and she was experiencing a throbbing headache.

I’ll never drink again
, she vowed.
Never! This is it for me
.

But she was well aware that it was too late to take back what had already happened.

As soon as she emerged from the shower, Tina was on the phone, demanding to know exactly what had taken place.

‘Nothing,’ she responded weakly, clutching the phone with one hand and a towel in the other.

‘Liar!’ Tina said, sounding excited. ‘You
left
with that hot guy.’

‘I did not!’ she protested.

‘Oh, please.’ Tina snorted disbelievingly. ‘I
saw
you sneak out. I was worried.’

‘Then why didn’t you stop me?’

‘’Cause you’re a big girl, and we had that talk. Remember?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ she said miserably.

‘So?’ Tina said, still pushing for information. ‘What’s the deal?’

‘He dropped me home, that’s all.’

‘I’m pregnant, not stupid,’ Tina said crisply. ‘I’ll pick you up at one, we’ll go to Serendipity for lunch and you’ll tell me everything.’

‘I don’t feel like eating, let alone talking.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m suffering from a massive hangover, thanks to all my so-called friends.’

‘Too bad,’ Tina said cheerily. ‘We’re having lunch anyway.’

‘Do we
have
to?’ Amy said, wishing she could crawl back into bed and forget about everything.

‘Yes, we have to. I’ll see you later.’

Since Tina was about to give birth there was no arguing with her. It wasn’t worth the effort.

Dressing slowly, Amy kept on going over the ramifications of what she’d done. It wasn’t a good thing. Oh, no, it wasn’t good at all. She’d been a bad, bad girl, and she deserved to be punished.

So why was there a smile on her face? Damnit! Why the
hell
was she smiling?

The second she walked into work, Yolanda was all over her pushing for details.

‘Details of
what?
’ Amy said weakly, heading for her desk, wishing everyone would leave her alone. ‘
Nothing
happened.’

‘Sure,’ Yolanda drawled, pulling a disbelieving face as she followed her. ‘You’re glowing.
Something
must’ve happened.’

‘No, it didn’t,’ she said, switching on her computer, willing Yolanda to vanish conveniently.

‘Oh, yes, it did!’ Yolanda said, refusing to go away. ‘We
all
saw you leave with that hot guy.’

‘I don’t even know his name,’ she said, hoping Yolanda might give her a clue.

But Yolanda’s cell rang, putting an end to the conversation.

Hmm…not that she cared
what
his name was. After all, it wasn’t like she would ever see him again.

The sexy stranger was her secret wild card–a lustful night of pre-wedding insanity she would never share with anyone, not even Tina.

Max Diamond was the man for her.

Everyone thought so.

Jett was the first to arrive at the Diamond brownstone on 68th Street. The butler who answered the door was a new one. Not that Jett was familiar with his father’s staff, but there’d been an English butler who’d stayed around for a few years. This one was German and quite stoic as he ushered Jett into the panelled library, leaving him to contemplate the many shelves of ceiling-high leatherbound books.

Wandering around the room, Jett noticed that, just as he remembered from his childhood, there was nothing personal. No photographs of family, no trophies or knick-knacks, no magazines, just a pristine copy of the
Wall Street Journal
folded on a side table next to a dark brown stiff leather couch.

Nothing had changed. Red Diamond did not believe in personal mementoes. The room was a mirror-image of Red. Cold, musty and unwelcoming.

After a few minutes, he sat down on the couch and picked up the newspaper. As he stared at the print, images of the girl from last night flashed through his head again. She was a peach. A beautiful, perfect peach. The kind of girl he’d always dreamed of.

And he would see her again soon…very soon.

‘How was it?’ Max asked.

Amy hung onto the phone, her palms slick with sweat. Had her fiancé found out? How was that possible? Oh, God, what was she going to say? How could she explain her one night of insanity? This was unbelievable!

‘It can’t have been
that
bad, sweetie,’ Max said affectionately. ‘Just you and the girls. Surely you had an enjoyable time?’

Relief swept over her. Of course, he was asking about her bachelorette party. ‘I drank too much,’ she blurted.

‘That figures,’ he said understandingly. ‘They must have been pouring it down your throat, and there was nothing you could do.’

‘That’s about it,’ she managed.

‘It’s exactly what I’ll have to put up with tonight,’ he grumbled. ‘Bachelor parties are so goddamn dumb, I wish I didn’t have to go. So help me–if they haul in strippers, I’m out of there, and that’s a promise.’

‘You don’t have to promise me anything,’ she said, feeling more guilty than ever.

‘Why?’ he said, sounding amused. ‘You
want
me cavorting with strippers?’

‘No, no, of course not,’ she said, almost stammering. ‘It’s just that…well…on a bachelor night you can do anything and it doesn’t count. Anyway,’ she added lamely, ‘that’s what I’ve heard.’

‘Sweetheart, I
do
love you,’ he said, laughing.

‘You too, Max,’ she said, on automatic pilot.

‘You’re the sweetest girl I ever met.’

NO! I’M NOT. I CHEATED ON YOU WITH
ANOTHER MAN AND THERE’S NO WAY I CAN TAKE IT BACK.

‘Thank you.’ She gulped.

‘I’m right outside my father’s house,’ Max said. ‘I’ll call you later.’

She clicked off her phone. If he ever found out what she had done…

Oh, God, it didn’t bear thinking about.

J
ett wasn’t alone for long–within minutes Max had arrived. Jett stood up, and they exchanged a somewhat stilted greeting.

‘You’re looking well,’ Max said. ‘Better than the last time I saw you.’

Oh, yeah
, Jett thought,
he has to get a dig in, doesn’t he?
‘Last time you saw me I was sick,’ he pointed out.

‘No,’ Max contradicted. ‘If I remember correctly, you were drunk on your ass.’

‘Alcoholism is a sickness,’ Jett explained, wondering why his brother had to get on his case the moment he saw him. ‘I’ve been clean for three years.’

‘Is that right?’ Max said as if he didn’t believe him.

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Jett retaliated, ready to defend himself.

Before they became involved in a pissy little fight, Chris burst in. Chris. Mr L.A. with his deep tan and George Clooney smile. Wearing a lightweight Armani suit he looked fit and well. ‘Guys!’ he said. ‘Long time. You both look great. Good looks run in the family, huh?’

Jett felt a lot closer to Chris than he did to Max. There was something intimidating about Max, something he didn’t care to tangle with. Chris was warmer, nicer, although his two older brothers were somewhat alike with their dark good looks. Two traditionally handsome men, while Jett was the odd one out with his dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes. When they were kids, Chris had always called him ‘surfer kid’ and ‘little runt’. Not that they’d seen much of each other, but when they
had
got together, Chris had always looked out for him.

‘Hey,’ Jett said, ‘anyone know why we’re here?’

‘Beats me,’ Chris said, shrugging. ‘I’m thinking the old guy might be sick and finally remembered he has three sons.’

‘I doubt it,’ Max said grimly.

‘You doubt what?’ Chris asked. ‘That he’s sick, or that he remembers us?’

‘We’ll soon find out,’ Max said.

A maid entered the room and asked if they required any refreshments. Chris requested coffee, as did Max. Jett asked for a bottle of water.

After the maid left the room, Chris turned to his younger brother. ‘Where’re you staying? I would’ve called you last night, but I had no idea where to find you.’

‘A friend lent me his apartment.’

‘Lucky you,’ Chris said, sitting down on the couch, and stretching out his long legs. ‘When did you fly in?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘I hear things are going okay for you in Italy,’ Chris remarked, checking out messages on his BlackBerry.

Jett nodded. ‘I’m clean and sober if that’s what you mean.’

‘That’s great, but I’m talking about the modelling. Saw your photo in one of my girlfriend’s Italian fashion magazines. She was way impressed when I told her you were my kid brother.’

‘Modelling?’ Max interrupted disapprovingly. ‘You’re doing modelling?’

‘S’ right,’ Jett said. ‘Magazine stuff and some TV commercials.’

‘I thought all models were gay.’

‘Now you
sound
like our old man,’ Chris said, laughing. ‘You gotta haul yourself into the present, Max. Haven’t you heard of Tyson?’

‘Mike Tyson?’

Chris rolled his eyes, ‘I give up!’

The maid returned with two cups of coffee and a bottle of Evian.

Chris pocketed his BlackBerry and took a gulp of coffee.

Max consulted his watch. ‘It’s nine-fifteen,’ he said irritably. ‘I was asked to be here at nine.’

‘We were all told to be here at nine,’ Chris said.

‘Christ!’ Max said, tapping his fingers on the coffee-table. ‘When does it stop?’

‘When does what stop?’ Jett asked.

‘This manipulative crap,’ Max said harshly. ‘This controlling shit. He still seems to think he can treat us like we’re twelve.’

‘You think he’s gonna change now?’ Chris asked.

‘At least he can’t beat us,’ Jett remarked. ‘Man, he was quick with his freakin’ stick. I’ve
still
got the marks on my ass.’

‘I’ll find out what’s going on,’ Max said, getting up and walking towards the door. ‘I have appointments, a business crisis to deal with. I can’t afford to waste anymore time.’

‘And I have to get back to L.A. There’s a phone backup of demanding clients waiting for me,’ Chris said, winking at Jett. ‘How about you, surfer kid?’

‘Hey, you’re the one who lives in California,’ Jett answered, grinning.

‘And very nice it is too. Come visit sometime. I’ve got a great house you can stay at.’

‘Thanks, but I was thinking of hanging around New York for a couple of weeks,’ Jett said, dying to tell someone about last night. ‘Y’ see, I met a girl—’

Before he could finish, the door opened and there stood Lady Jane Bentley, an elegant woman in a Chanel-suit-and-pearls kind of way. Auburn hair worn in an upswept style, minimum make-up, frosty eyes and a fixed smile.

‘Good morning, boys,’ she said, obviously going for the mother-figure posture. ‘Your father and I are so glad you could make it.’

Jett barely remembered her. His only encounters with Lady Jane were blanks on account of his having been drunk or stoned out of his mind.

Chris had met her a few times, most memorably when she’d visited L.A. with her two English step-nieces. They’d stayed at the Peninsula Hotel and she’d expected them all to be treated like visiting royalty.

Fat chance. The only people treated like royalty in Hollywood were the stars and moguls who made over thirty mill a year. Other than that it was everyone for themselves.

Since they lived in the same city, Max knew her best. He considered her a cold fish, the type of woman his father deserved.

Lady Jane surveyed Red’s three sons and wished that they didn’t exist. Even though Red rarely spoke about them, she was well aware that they represented the continuation of his bloodline, and therefore they were a threat. Eventually she expected Red to marry her, in spite of the fact that whenever she brought up the subject he laughed in her face, which did not please her: she was a determined woman used to getting her own way, exactly like him. However, she persevered, for she knew that as he got older he would weaken, and she
would
become the fifth Mrs Diamond. Then they could all go to hell.

‘I do hope everyone had a pleasant experience getting here,’ Lady Jane continued. ‘Travelling today is quite appalling. There’s no such thing as first class anymore. Everyone is treated as if they’re cattle. Unless you travel by private plane it’s quite hopeless.’

Not only is she an icy bitch, she’s a snob too
, Chris thought. Which made it difficult for him to understand why she was with old Red, who’d belched, farted and sworn his way to the top of the heap with no apologies to anyone.

Oh, yeah, money, money, money. What else?

‘I flew in on Jonathan Goode’s plane,’ Chris offered. ‘Guess you’re right. Private is the only way to go.’

Lady Jane was unimpressed. She was probably one of the few women in America who had no idea who Jonathan Goode was.

‘Where’s Red?’ Max asked, getting right to the reason they were all there.

‘I’m so sorry to disappoint you,’ Lady Jane said, coolly distant. ‘Your father is not feeling very well today, so unfortunately he cannot see you.’

‘What?’ Max said, furious.

‘However,’ she continued, ‘he expects all three of you to be here on Monday morning at the same time. I do hope that’s not an inconvenience.’

‘Are you
serious
?’ Chris said. ‘There’s no way I can sit around New York for the weekend. I flew in specially for this meeting.’ He favoured her with a long, hard glare, the kind of look he usually reserved for the business affairs suits at the studios. ‘This is bullshit!’

‘Is that how lawyers speak in L.A.?’ Lady Jane said, lip curling. ‘Little wonder it’s a town full of barbarians.’

Jett began to laugh–he couldn’t help himself. This was such a ridiculous situation. The only reason the three of them were there was to see if the old man was leaving them money.
He
needed a handout, but Max and Chris were rolling in it, so why were
they
jumping hoops? It didn’t make sense.

‘What’s the matter with Red?’ Max demanded. ‘How sick is he?’

‘I strongly suggest you meet here at nine a.m. on Monday and allow your father to tell you himself,’ Lady Jane said, adding succinctly ‘I can assure you it is to your advantage to do so.’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Chris muttered.

‘I’ll be here,’ Jett said, kind of pleased to have an excuse to stay in New York. Not that he’d been planning on leaving any time soon. After all, he had a girl to find.

‘Looks like you’re giving me no choice,’ Chris said, not willing to take off while Max and Jett stayed for the meeting. That would
not
be a smart move.

‘We’ll see you on Monday then,’ Lady Jane said, exiting the room.

‘What do you think’s the matter with him?’ Jett asked, as soon as she’d left.

‘No idea,’ Max said. ‘I saw him a few months ago when he was as objectionable and loud as usual.’

‘How did he look?’ Jett asked, swigging water.

‘Old. But strong as the proverbial horse.’

‘So…’ Chris said. ‘Looks like I’m stuck here for the weekend. Either of you want to meet up later for dinner?’

‘You can always count on me if it’s a free meal,’ Jett said quickly. ‘Now that I don’t drink, I’m the cheapest date in town.’

‘Can’t do dinner,’ Max said brusquely. ‘I’m sure you both know I’m getting married, and tonight some friends–well, business acquaintances really–are throwing me a bachelor party.’

‘A bachelor party,’ Chris said. ‘Are we invited?’

‘
I
didn’t know you were getting married,’ Jett said. ‘I thought you already had a wife.
And
a kid, who I’d love to meet sometime–considering I’m her uncle.’

Max felt threatened on both sides. As if he didn’t have enough problems, now he was about to get stuck with his brothers for the weekend. This did not factor into his plans.

On the other hand, even though they were not close, they
were
family and, God knew, he didn’t have anyone else except Lulu. ‘Of course you’re invited,’ he said stiffly. ‘It’s not something I’m looking forward to, but you’re more than welcome to come.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ Chris said, winking at Jett.

‘Me neither,’ Jett said. ‘Haven’t had a proper lap-dance since I left the good ole US.’

‘I’m hoping there’ll be no strippers,’ Max said. ‘It’s not that kind of party.’

‘You gotta know there
will
be strippers,’ Jett said, grinning. ‘If it’s a bachelor party that’s something you can bet on.’

The brothers walked outside the house and stood talking on the sidewalk for a few minutes, unaware that Red was watching them from an upstairs window.

The old man cackled gleefully as he spied on his three sons. How he enjoyed manipulating people. Here he was, almost eighty years old, and when he said ‘Jump’ everyone did. It was amusing, especially as he didn’t even have to leave his house to get a good laugh.

Red Diamond was a mogul in the true sense of the word. He was a self-made man who had come from an impoverished Polish immigrant family. Born in America and named Jana Polanska in 1926, he’d been a school drop-out by the time he was fifteen. His father, a butcher, who was prone to beating him to a pulp at
the slightest provocation, kicked him out of the house in the middle of the night. His mother, a pale, frightened woman, allowed it to happen without a word of protest.

Bitter and filled with anger–his psyche forever damaged by the emotional and physical abuse he’d endured, young Jana was a survivor. He lived on the streets for a few months, then moved in with a sex-crazed older woman who expected him to service her twice a day. Eventually he got tired of her, lied about his age and landed a job selling advertising at an established, but not particularly successful, magazine.

By the time he was twenty, he’d legally changed his name to Red Diamond, and married his boss’s spinster daughter, Miriam, a plain woman ten years older than him. After his early experiences he was an expert at pleasing older women. He knew exactly what they required–hard dick and plenty of it.

Soon he was virtually running the magazine, which, after a few years, he had turned into quite a profitable venture. With the magazine doing so well, it spawned several others, all of which Red was in charge of. He was making good money and quickly learned everything he could about investing. Before long he had found his forte as an investment whiz, who somehow made all the right moves.

By the time he was thirty, he’d amassed a small fortune with which he bought a chain of TV and radio stations. He kept them for a few months, then sold them for a huge profit.

When Miriam’s father died, Red was in line to take over. He was already running things, so it was no surprise to anyone. Red Diamond changed the way the magazines were run. He brought in advertisers ready to spend more than ever before. He touched on subjects that were once considered taboo. He hired the best photographers, writers and models.

As time went on he got bored with the magazine business, and began buying and then selling for a large profit a series of small companies. If anyone got in his way, too bad.

Soon he had built himself a media empire, and by the time he was thirty-five, he was well on his way to becoming a billionaire.

Red was a notorious womanizer. Miriam put up with his indiscretions for many years, but two weeks after her second miscarriage she took her own life.

This did not affect Red’s rise to the top. A year after Miriam’s demise, he met and married Max’s mother, Rachel, a beautiful woman from a good family.