Double Lucky (23 page)

They didn't notice. They were both up for an adventure. Things were definitely getting better.

*   *   *

When Alex Woods was working, he was content. Making movies was his sole reason for getting up in the morning. Not only did he write and direct all his own films, but he sometimes produced, usually with a partner. His best producing partner had been Lucky. They'd worked together so well, a perfect fit. No hassles, no useless fights about the budget, everything was cool with Lucky.
Seduction
was one of his favorite movies. It had made Billy Melina into a star, while Venus had given the best performance of her career.

After they wrapped production, Alex was shattered when Lucky informed him she'd decided not to produce any more movies. He'd argued with her, tried to convince her, but she was adamant.

Lucky was a challenging woman, always pursuing new ideas, always doing exactly what she felt like doing whenever she had the urge. Now she was back in the hotel business in Vegas, and he was a major investor in the Keys. He wasn't worried about his money—with Lucky in charge it was all good. Besides, he enjoyed spending time in Vegas. It was a kick-ass city with plenty going on. There were times when he jumped on a plane, flew to Vegas, gambled for a couple of hours, then made it back to L.A. before midnight. It was relaxing—the perfect quick getaway for a workaholic.

He felt like doing just that on Saturday when he awoke fighting a massive hangover. He had no desire to bring Ling along—her nagging about his drinking turned him off. Who did she think she was, giving her opinion on whether he should drink or not? If she didn't like it, she should pack up and leave.

The truth was he couldn't care less
what
she did. They'd been living together for almost two years—it was long enough. Besides, having a woman living in his house was not an appealing situation. Women were always trying to add feminine touches. Who needed fresh flowers and a fridge full of food? He ate out most of the time—it wasn't his style to indulge in housekeeping.

Without telling Ling, he left his house, drove to the airport, and hopped a plane to Vegas. As long as he had his laptop with him he could work, gamble, maybe get laid if he felt like it, then fly home. He needed the quick break—then he'd resume work on Monday feeling refreshed. Working with Billy Melina was a pain—stardom had gone to the kid's head, not to mention his sure-to-be-disastrous affair with Venus. Alex liked actors to do exactly what he told them to do. Billy wasn't pliable anymore—he had ideas of his own. It pissed Alex off.

The plane was late taking off, and packed. Alex didn't care, he'd never lusted after things like private planes or two-hundred-foot yachts. Cars were his deal—he owned several. Three classic Ferraris, a Porsche, and a vintage Bentley. Ling had taken over driving his Porsche, which didn't thrill him. When she'd first moved in she'd had her own car, but when the lease expired she'd started driving his Porsche. It annoyed him, but he wasn't about to buy her a car. Generosity was not high on his list of things to do for the woman in his life.

In Vegas he usually stayed at the Cavendish. They always took care of him, and the owner, Renee Falcon, was quite a colorful character.

After checking in, he took a cab over to the Keys to take a look at how things were progressing. He'd visited several times during construction, and the place was unbelievable. Lucky had the touch, but that was no surprise since Lucky always did things with class and style.

The Keys complex was surrounded by high-security fences with guards stationed at key points.

Alex flashed his pass at one of the guards. “Mooney around?” he asked.

“He's up in the main communication offices meeting with Ms. Santangelo.”

Had he heard right? Was Lucky in town? She hadn't mentioned she was flying in. This was very welcome news indeed.

He strode across the property, past the two huge swimming pools, past the private poker rooms, through the casino, and upstairs to the main office. Everywhere he looked people were busy working toward getting ready for the grand opening.

Since the office door was ajar, he walked right in.

“Mr. Woods,” Mooney said, standing up, “this
is
a surprise.”

Lucky was sitting in front of a big circular console surrounded by dozens of in-house TV monitors. “Alex,” she exclaimed. “What are
you
doing here?”

“The question is, what are
you
doing here?” he responded, happy to see her.

“Check signing,” Mooney explained. “Couldn't find anyone else.”

“Now this I don't get,” Alex said, perplexed. “Lucky Santangelo has to fly to Vegas to sign checks. Are you kidding me?”

“You know how hands-on I am,” she said. “There are only four people who can countersign with Mooney, and I happen to be one of them. The other three weren't available, so here I am.”

“My friend the control freak,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You never fail to amaze me.”

“Well, it takes one to know one,” she said, grinning. “And how come
you're
here?”

“Working with that asshole Billy Melina, I found myself in desperate need of some R 'n' R.”

“Is Billy being difficult?”

“You know what it's like with actors—give 'em a taste of success an' they think they walk on water.”

“I never imagined Billy would go that route.”

“He has. They all do.”

“Lennie never did.”

“Lennie's an exception.”

“So … Billy Melina drove you to Vegas. Hmm…”

“Not exactly. I figured that while I'm in town, I'd check out my investment.”

“Don't trust me, huh?” Lucky said.

“You're the only one I do trust,” Alex responded, quite seriously.

“That's nice,” she said, keeping it light.

“Aren't you supposed to be throwing a party tomorrow?”

“This is true, which is why I'm flying back to L.A. this afternoon.”

“You here by yourself?” he asked, wondering if Lennie was about to appear and ruin everything.

“Bobby and Brigette came along for the ride.”

“Where are they?”

“I'm not sure,” she said vaguely. “I think they went off to get a lap dance or something. Perhaps you should join them.”

“Lap dances aren't my scene.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

They exchanged a long slow look.

Sometimes, Lucky thought, if it weren't for Lennie …

*   *   *

Lunch at Geoffrey's, a restaurant perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, was suitably romantic. Venus devoured a huge dish of lobster and shrimp. She held hands with Billy across the table and wondered why she'd been feeling so insecure. Everything was perfect. A perfect morning, followed by an exhilarating ride on his motorcycle all the way to the beach, clinging to his back as he broke a few speed records while attempting to ditch the pursuing paparazzi. And now lunch.

She felt as if she was sixteen and in love for the first time. There was certainly something to be said for the joys of a younger man. She tried to imagine Cooper on a bike flying through the mountains at eighty miles an hour. That would never happen. Cooper was into drivers and limos and bodyguards. Cooper lived the life of a big star to the hilt. She'd heard a rumor lately that he was even thinking of stepping into the political arena. Hmm … lots of luck with
his
reputation.

Now that things were back on track with Billy, she could start concentrating on her career again. The following month she was in the recording studio laying down final tracks for her upcoming CD, due to be released the same week her fifteen-city concert tour began. After that she had two movies lined up, the launch of her new fragrance, and a line of upmarket sports clothes. Plus she'd promised Lucky that she would make a surprise appearance at the opening of the Keys. Which meant that somewhere along the way she would have to fit in rehearsals with her backup dancers and, since it was a new theater, a serious sound check at the Keys venue.

“You're off on a mind trip,” Billy remarked, leaning across the table. “Where you at?”

“Right now I'm here with you,” she said affectionately. “I'm thinking how great it would be if we could get to do this every weekend.”

“You'd soon be bored.”

“No I wouldn't.”

An overbearing woman in a lilac pantsuit interrupted them by storming the table and thrusting a slip of paper under Billy's nose.

“My daughter'll never forgive me if I don't ask you to do this,” she gushed. “My daughter simply adores you, thinks you're wonderful. Would you mind signing? Oh my! This'll make her year.”

Billy graciously scrawled his signature on the slip of paper, then passed it over to Venus.

The woman started to object—that is, until she recognized Venus, whereupon she launched into fan overdrive.

Venus signed, not so graciously, and told Billy to get the check.

Somehow or other the spell of being two almost normal people out on a lunch date was broken.

Still … it was nice while it lasted.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The offices Anthony Bonar kept in Mexico City were merely a front. Beneath the facade of a thriving import/export business most of his dealings in the drug trade took place.

He entered his private office, nodding at a couple of trusted associates he'd summoned from his plane. It was time to make sure everything was on track—shipments, deliveries, cash payments.

Privacy and secrecy were of paramount importance to Anthony—every morning he had a surveillance expert sweep his office for bugging devices. In his business it was imperative to always be careful and alert. One mistake and it could all be over.

His office was spacious, the focal point being an oversized partners desk. In front of the desk stood a big leather couch along with several matching chairs. A fully stocked bar was over in the corner, while one wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling bookcases. This wall featured a concealed door that led into an inner office where Anthony took care of private business. A sophisticated entry code scanned his fingerprints before the concealed door would open, and he was the only person with access. He kept three safes in his second office, all of them stuffed with cash. There was also a private exit to the street should he ever have to get out fast.

After a couple of hours going over the latest business transactions with his associates, he instructed The Grill to bring the car around. It was time to go home.

“You want I call Mrs. Bonar, tell her you're coming?” The Grill inquired.

“No,” Anthony said. “I'll surprise her.”

This was a first. Usually he told Irma well in advance when he was coming, but since he planned on only staying overnight he didn't bother. Tomorrow they'd move on to their Acapulco home. He felt like taking a break—the unpleasant experience in Vegas still had him on edge.

Irma would be pleased to see him, especially when he told her they were going to Acapulco, and as an extra surprise he was flying in the children.

On the drive to his house he called the Miami mansion and spoke to the nanny. “Pack everyone up, you're all comin' to Acapulco,” he informed her. “My secretary's gonna contact you with flight details. Be there tomorrow.”

“The children will not be very happy about this, Mr. Bonar,” sniffed the nanny. “They have arrangements with their friends.”

“Cancel whatever
arrangements
they got. Tell 'em to bring their friends if it'll keep 'em happy. Make it happen, Nanny, or get your uptight ass fired.”

*   *   *

Irma glanced at the bedside clock, noting that it was almost five. Luis was asleep beside her, sprawled across the bed. Since the gardeners' hours were eight until four, she realized that she had to get him out of there before the guards became suspicious. It was one thing Luis being there all day, but all night? She didn't think so. Too risky.

Gently she leaned over and stroked his muscled back. “You have to go,” she whispered. “It's getting late.”

“
Qué?
” he muttered, turning over and stretching.

“You have to go, Luis,” she repeated. “Get up.”

“
Ah, sí,
Missus Bonar,” he said, leaning on one elbow. “
Veree
good.”

“You're starting to speak English,” she exclaimed.

“Engleesh,” he repeated, a shy smile spreading across his craggy face.

She put her hand against his cheek. “I'm going to teach you a word every time we're together,” she promised. “Love. Can you say love?”

“Love,” he repeated, rolling off the bed.

She watched him as he picked up his clothes and began pulling on his worn jeans and frayed work shirt. He was certainly what her sister back in Omaha would call a hunk.

She moved close to him, placed her arms around his neck, and impulsively kissed him. “
Adiós
, Luis,” she said softly. “
Mañana?
”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, nodding his head.

It pleased her that he'd obviously been trying to learn a few words of English; it proved that he cared. She wished he could spend the night, but how could she outthink the guards? It was impossible. If Luis stayed, they'd know.

Once he left she was faced with a long lonely night by herself. What did Anthony imagine she got up to? He refused to allow her any friends, nor could she entertain when he wasn't in residence.

Well, she was
definitely
entertaining the thought of leaving him, and
that
was one reality he couldn't stop.

*   *   *

Luis lingered in the vast marble hallway on his way out. To think that all this belonged to one man, the house, the grounds, the woman …