Lady Boss (35 page)

Nona narrowed her eyes. ‘We're supposed to be Venus Maria. Can't you tell?'

‘Nope,' replied Paul. ‘You still look like two little tramps.'

‘Honestly!' Nona said crossly. ‘You're so full of bullshit.'

‘Takes one to know one.'

‘Do you two fight all the time?' Brigette asked curiously.

‘This isn't fighting,' said Paul.

‘Oh, no!' agreed Nona. ‘You should see us when we really go at it!'

Paul had decided not to play dress-up, refusing to change his all-black outfit. Nobody seemed to notice except Brigette, who couldn't keep her eyes off him, much as she tried.

She remembered the first time she'd spotted her first boyfriend, Tim Wealth. It seemed such a long time ago, and yet it couldn't be more than two years. Tim had been tall and gangly with a thin face, nice smile, and longish hair. The first time she'd spotted him at the opening of Lucky's hotel, it had been love at first sight. Later that same night he'd invited her to his hotel suite, made her snort coke, and instructed her to undress. He'd had no idea who she was or that she was not quite fifteen. And then he'd made love to her. Fast and furious.

Memories of Tim were making her uncomfortably warm. She took off her short brocade jacket. Underneath she wore a skimpy white bra and minuscule skirt.

Paul second-glanced her. ‘Not bad,' he said. ‘It's a shame you're still a baby.'

I was even more of a baby when I met Tim Wealth
, she thought.
It didn't bother him
.

Paul's eyes followed Deena's seductive legs across the room. ‘She sure looks good tonight,' he sighed lustfully.

‘She's old enough to be your mother,' Nona said disapprovingly.

‘Not quite.'

‘Almost,' Nona countered.

He got up. ‘I'm leaving you two nymphettes to fend for yourselves. I'll be back in a minute.'

‘I don't believe it!' Nona exclaimed. ‘He's planning to hit on Deena Swanson. Can you imagine? He's going to hit on Mommy's best friend!'

Brigette forced a laugh. She was jealous. But she was determined not to let anybody see it, because falling in love meant heartbreak, and Brigette knew heartbreak only too well.

* * *

‘How ya doin', Mrs. S.?'

Deena turned to look at the thin young man with the intense stare. ‘Have we met?' she asked coolly.

His eyes clashed with hers. He had a very direct gaze. ‘It's me – Paul. Effie's son.'

She was genuinely surprised. ‘Oh my God, Paul. How you've changed. It's been so long since I've seen you.'

‘It has been a while,' he agreed. ‘I was travelling around Europe. Backpacking. Not quite your style, huh?'

‘You were a little boy last time we… uh… we were together,' she said.

He gave her the intense stare. ‘That sounds sexy, Deena.'

Was he coming on to her? No. Impossible. He was just a kid… albeit a very attractive one. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘Well, y'know… like “when we were together” sounds sort of sexy. Don'tcha think?'

‘Paul, are you flirting with me?'

Now came the charming smile. ‘I hope so. If not, I'm doing a lousy job.'

Deena couldn't help smiling back. ‘It's nice to see you, dear,' she said. ‘And I can tell you've inherited your mother's sense of fun.'

He moved on to the brooding look. ‘Enough with the
dear
. Don't try and put me down, Deena.'

‘I wouldn't dream of it.'

Time to challenge her. ‘You wouldn't dream of what?'

‘I wouldn't dream of trying to put you down, Paul. Where is your mother?'

‘She's around. Why? Do you need her to get you out of this?'

Deena shook her head.

Paul switched moods and grinned. ‘Feeling threatened?'

‘By you? I don't think so, dear.' She turned her back and walked briskly away.

‘Nice legs,' he said to her retreating back.

He felt it was a victory. Satisfied, he returned to Nona and Brigette.

‘She totally wants my body,' he said. ‘I had to say no.'

‘Really,' said Nona sarcastically. ‘How nice for you. I always knew you were the biggest liar in the world.'

‘Don't believe me. See if I care.' Nonchalantly he turned his attention to Brigette. ‘Can I bug you for a loan? Like maybe a hundred thousand big ones? I'll pay you back when I'm rich and famous.'

‘Ha!' snorted Nona.

‘I don't control my money,' Brigette muttered. ‘It's all in various trusts.'

‘And even if she did,' Nona interrupted, ‘you'd be the last person to get any.
I'd
be the first, wouldn't I?'

Brigette would never admit it, but she thought Paul was even more attractive than Tim Wealth.

* * *

Emilio signed the contract. He probably should have taken it to some high-powered Hollywood lawyer and had him look it over – but Emilio knew what he was doing. His business instincts were good. After all, he'd negotiated himself a fat fifty thousand dollars without any help from some sharp lawyer. Now all he had to do was give them the exclusive story of Venus Maria and her married lover.

The first thing he did was open up a bank account. Then he promptly withdrew five thousand dollars in cash, and hit the town, taking in all the clubs.

Everyone who knew him was surprised. ‘Where'd you score the bucks, man?' they asked. They were all aware that Emilio was an expert at using his sister's name, joining people's tables, and getting his drinks put on other people's tabs.

‘My sister gave it to me,' Emilio replied with a jaunty wink.

In a way it was true. Without Venus Maria, he certainly wouldn't have fifty thousand stashed away. Well, only five for now, but he'd get the balance when the story was written and checked out.

Several margaritas later he picked up a hooker at one of the bars. He didn't realize she was a hooker. She said she was an actress. They all said they were actresses or models. It was the Hollywood game.

She had long dyed blond hair and even longer skinny legs. She wore a very short red dress cut low in the back and even lower in the front. There was not much left to anybody's imagination.

Emilio wasn't into imagining, he was into celebrating.

He took the girl back to his apartment and made love to her for a fast five minutes.

‘Is that it?' she asked indignantly when he was through. ‘I came here for a good time. I coulda had more action with a jack-rabbit!'

‘I gave you a good time,' Emilio mumbled, wishing she'd get the hell out.

She demanded fifty bucks for a cab home.

He was outraged. ‘Fifty bucks for a cab?'

‘Honey, I didn't come here for your smile.'

Grumbling, Emilio gave her a twenty and shoved her out.

When she was gone he switched on the television and fantasized over Gloria Estefan. Now she was a
real
woman. He bet Gloria Estefan wouldn't start asking him for fifty bucks.

Eventually he fell asleep. Tomorrow he had another session with Dennis and his tape recorder. They were progressing on the story.

Soon he would be headline news. It was some kind of kick.

Emilio Sierra was going to be famous too.

Eddie Kane thought he might be going crazy, totally freaking out. And nobody wanted to help him. There wasn't one person he could trust.

He roamed around his house like a man possessed. God damn it! Ten days ago he'd had everything – plenty of money, a gorgeous wife – things were running smoothly. And he'd had his coke to keep him warm. A little snort of cocaine and everything looked rosy. Now it took more than a little snort to get him out of bed in the morning.

He'd known he was in trouble when Mickey stopped talking to him. Mickey, whom he'd depended on over the years and always turned to.

So he'd got them into a jam. Jesus Christ, it wasn't like they were standing at gunpoint in front of the fucking Mexican army. It was a mess a million bucks could solve. And Mickey Stolli and Panther Studios were going to have to come up with the money. Fast.

But no, Mickey was trying to act like a big man and pretend it wasn't his responsibility. Mickey was full of crap.

The calls had started nicely enough. ‘Hey, Eddie, you owe us money. When's it coming?' Then they'd progressed to ‘Hey, Eddie, ya better get the bucks soon. Mr. Bonnatti ain't a patient man.' And now it was ‘Eddie, your time is up. Mr. Bonnatti don't appreciate bein' kept waiting.'

At first it had seemed like such a sweet irresistible deal. Eddie had been introduced to Carlo Bonnatti in New York at Le Club. Actually he'd known one of the women Bonnatti was with, his L.A. cocaine connection, Kathleen Le Paul.

After Kathleen introduced him to Carlo they'd got to talking. ‘Panther Pictures, huh?' Carlo had said. ‘I'm in the picture business myself.'

‘You are?' Eddie had asked, surprised, thinking that he'd never heard of him.

‘Yeah,' Carlo had laughed. ‘We don't quite make your style of movies.'

Eddie had been accused of a lot of things in his time, but being slow was not one of them. ‘You're into the other side of the tennis net, huh?' he'd said smoothly.

‘There's plenty of money in it,' Bonnatti had replied. ‘Plenty. My brother, Santino, started the business. When he, uh, unfortunately passed away, I took over. I got a guy running it out on the West Coast, an' my own people in New York. Our only real problem is abroad.'

It went on from there. Bonnatti was looking for a way to get his porno product into Europe. There were certain countries such as Spain and Italy that had a block on importing pornographic material.

Eddie came up with the perfect solution: smuggle it in with legitimate product. Who was going to question Panther Studios when they shipped in their big movies?

Bonnatti was easy to convince. When Eddie smelled a deal he went all the way. ‘Maybe I can help you,' he'd said. And they'd worked out a tentative arrangement.

All Eddie had to do was run it by Mickey, guaranteeing him a big chunk of the action.

He'd thought about it long and hard before going to him. First he'd formed his own shell company in Liechtenstein, reckoning he could shift the European funds through the company without becoming personally involved.

Mickey was immediately receptive to the idea. ‘Just money, no risk?' he'd asked.

‘That's the deal,' Eddie had said. ‘A fifty-fifty split with Bonnatti, an' I hand you half my action. It's as easy as that.'

Mickey had agreed.

Screw Mickey. For three years he'd been happy to take the money when things were running smoothly. Now there was trouble, he didn't want to know.

Eddie wondered how everybody had found out he was creaming off the top. Fuck it, he was the one doing all the work, setting up the deals in the various countries, funnelling the money through. If anybody was going to get busted, it was him. So why shouldn't he take more than his fair share?

A million bucks was far more than his fair share, and he was busted. Carlo Bonnatti had discovered he was stealing, and Bonnatti wanted what was his.

Leslie followed Eddie around the house looking mournful. ‘How can I help?' she asked for the tenth time.

He was in no mood for the caring-wife bit. ‘By shutting up,' he snapped.

It occurred to him that the only way he could raise the money in a hurry was by selling their only real asset.

‘We gotta put the house on the market,' he announced. ‘Call a realtor an' tell 'em we need a cash sale an' we need it like yesterday.'

Leslie looked dismayed, but she did as he told her, even though they both knew it wasn't going to be fast enough.

Now that he had the threat of Bonnatti breathing in his face he didn't know what else to do.

Eddie had sensed it was going to be a bad day the moment he'd woken up. It was Friday. There was a thick smog hanging over the beach. There was a thick smog hanging over his head. He felt more than depressed. Rolling across the bed he reached for the phone and called Kathleen Le Paul. ‘Come by my house,' he ordered. ‘I need medication.'

‘I don't make house calls,' she replied tersely, not exactly thrilled to hear from him.

His head was exploding. ‘I'm out of the office.'

‘I noticed. If you'd let me know I could have saved myself a trip.'

‘Listen, honey, I've got the flu. Whaddaya want from me? Come to my house. Bring the goods.'

‘Cash?'

‘Yeah.'

‘You're into me for fifteen hundred from last week.'

‘It's waitin' for you.'

Reluctantly she agreed, and they arranged a noon rendezvous.

Leslie was in the kitchen frying eggs and bacon. The smell made him sick. ‘I'm cooking breakfast for you,' she sang out, too goddamn cheerful for her own good.

‘Take off your clothes,' he said.

She spun around, startled. ‘What?'

‘Take off your clothes,' he repeated. ‘How about cooking my breakfast bare-assed naked?'

‘Eddie, don't be like this,' she pleaded. There was pain in her voice but he failed to hear it.

‘Aw, forget it.' He stomped back into the bedroom. And then he felt bad. Poor kid, he was taking it out on her, but who else did he have to take it out on?

Five minutes later Leslie surprised him. She walked into the bedroom wearing nothing but high heels and a frilly bib apron.

What a body! For the first time in weeks he felt the old juices begin to flow. ‘Hey,' he said, ‘come to Poppa!'

‘It's what you wanted, isn't it?' she asked stiffly.

‘I wasn't serious,' he said, tweaking her breasts. ‘Only now that you're here…'

He lay back and let her do all the work. She was very good at performing. For a girl from Iowa she sure knew plenty…