Somewhere in His Arms (61 page)

              Lucy took it and fastened it around her neck before he started to pin up her newly dyed hair. “Are you
sure
he’s going to be there?”

             
“Of course! My sources are very reliable.” He arranged a few wispy curls around her face. Then he started applying her makeup. “They say he’s going as Richard Burton in
Cleopatra.”

             
“Who
are
these sources?” Lucy wanted to know and looked up while he expertly applied mascara. “I-I mean, can they be trusted?”

             
Marco dabbed the applicator into some black eye shadow. “Don’t worry, they are very discreet!”

             
“Who are
they?”

             
“Well, if you
must
know,” he rolled his eyes in exasperation, “it’s the Dresden twins!”

             
“Those
two
trouble makers?”
Lucy squeaked out in horror, wondering how long it would take for her husband to throttle her senseless. “How can you trust them? Didn’t Delilah just get out of rehab?”

             
“She did.” Marco applied blusher to the apples of her cheeks. “But it wasn’t Delilah that told me, it was Denise.” He started to apply red lip liner. “Denise is the responsible one and she
knows
everything!”

             
Lucy relaxed a little. “I-I suppose it’ll be all right,” she said grudgingly. “But
how
does she know he’s going to be there? I mean… he’s not easy to talk to. How would she get this sort of information?”

             
“She has too much money and uses too much bleach. People think she’s an idiot, so they don’t keep their lips zipped when she’s around. She’s actually very smart.”

             
“I didn’t know that.”

             
“Neither do a lot of people,” Marco winked at her and applied shiny red lipgloss. “But that’s their own misfortune. I don’t feel sorry for them one little bit.”

             
“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, huh?”

             
“Well, I’m a walking example of that!” He stepped away from her and turned her around to study her reflection. “I don’t think anyone would recognize you, Lucy girl! Not even Viv who’s going to be there, too.”

             
“As what? A Venus flytrap?” Lucy peered into the mirror and did not recognize the seductress staring back at her. That vixen had huge smoky eyes and seductive red lips with a rose in her hair. If Gavin had seen her that day at the studio, he wouldn’t be able to place her. Marco was a genius. “Who
is
that girl staring at me?”

             
Marco began chortling with glee and called for Alec who was having an equally difficult time adjusting to his Zorro costume of flowing satin shirt and tight breeches.

             
“Listen, guys,” he said, tugging at tight fabric that threatened to nix whatever plans he and his wife had for producing children, “I don’t know if this is such a g---” he stopped and simply stared at the exotic beauty sitting in the chair. For a brief moment he felt the world tilt on its axis. “Lucia, is
that
you?” he breathed once he could speak.

             
Their eyes met and held, and Lucy stood up wobbling precariously in her black Mary Jane platform heels. She nearly tripped over them, and Alec hurried to assist his wife, grinning rakishly. “Need some help, Senorita?”

             
“Don’t you
dare
laugh at me, English!” she said, pointing to his mustache. “You’re one to talk with that hovering over your mouth!”

             
Alec smoothed it self-consciously and said to Marco: “This won’t come off, will it?”

             
“Of course not!” Marco said, slightly offended by the suggestion that he would use inferior products. “I used the best stuff money could buy! If anything, you’ll probably have to get a plastic surgeon to remove it!”

             
“See?” Lucy nudged her husband who was looking every inch the Spanish bandito with the requisite black sombrero, cordobes cloak, and domino mask. “He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you, Marco?”

             
Marco adjusted his feathered cap and eyed them both like a proud father about to usher his children off to their first day of school. “You’ll knock them dead, which I hope you won’t take literally.” He frowned at Alec who kept tugging at his breaches. “They’re supposed to be tight.”

             
“Really? I just thought I was supposed to be numb from the waist down.”

             
“Funny!” Marco took out his iPhone to document his handiwork. And it was fine handiwork if he could say so himself. “Smile you two!”

             
Then they were off in the limo Marco had rented for the occasion. “You can’t pull up to one of these things in a Honda!” he informed them matter-of-factly. “You’ll never live it down!”

             
Alec tugged at his breaches for the umpteenth time that night, and it just wasn’t the fact that the fabric was tighter than a sausage casing. Lucy was sitting beside him in
that
dress which had no right clinging to the lush curves he craved to taste with his tongue. From the position he was sitting in, he was getting quite an eyeful. And since
when
did she wear fishnet stockings? And what’s more, her perfume was doing strange things to his equilibrium. He was all of a sudden lightheaded and couldn’t really concentrate on the task at hand, which was getting close enough to Gavin to try and reason with him. He stomped on his rising passion and tried to think of what he was going to do should he confront his wayward brother. If this didn’t work out, his mother would never forgive him.

             
Lucy sat beside her husband and clasped his hand comfortingly. She knew he was nervous, but so was she. What if
he
was there? She didn’t know what she’d do if that bastard was there. She could handle Viv, but not that blond demon. Alec seemed to sense her discomfort and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

             
The limo ride took all of thirty-minutes with traffic. It seemed
everyone
in Hollywood had been invited. Shiny black SUVs were lined up clear up the winding road and along the driveway. Fortunately, Marco had anticipated this, and a friend of his had instructed the chauffeur to park about two miles down the road. They hopped out and continued on foot much to Lucy’s chagrin---her new shoes were killing her. But she gritted her teeth, and bore it the best she could, planning to ditch the evil footwear the first chance she got.

             
Alec slowed his pace a bit sensing his wife’s distress, finally scooped her up in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way. He set her down gently as they approached the house and linked his arm through hers lest they get separated amongst the throngs of costumed revelers.

             
Marco escorted them through the towering wrought-iron gate and helped them blend in with the crowd entering the candlelit foyer. “Act natural,” he hissed low. “And try not to stick out like a sore thumb!” With that he made a beeline for a group of men who were dressed as musketeers and partied the night away. Lucy and Alec were left to fend for themselves.

             
“Now what?” she whispered in her husband’s ear while he leaned down. The music was deafening, and Lucy wasn’t sure he’d heard her until he whispered something loudly.

             
“Let’s mingle.” Alec kept a tight rein on his wife while they were jostled about. He’d never seen so many people in an enclosed space in his life. And the costumes! He had to keep a tight lid on his laughter. There were starlets galore in tight evening gowns redolent of screen sirens Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe. Amongst the riot of vivid wigs, were garishly applied makeup, and equally vulgar displays of wealth. Several young women were dripping with diamonds that were apparently rented for the evening; the security guards stood close by growling at anyone who was stupid enough to try and get a closer look. He was also aware that people were staring…and they weren’t looking at his Zorro outfit.

             
Hundreds of pairs of eyes were fixated on Lucy, who seemed to be causing quite a stir in her flamenco vixen outfit. Alec didn’t blame them any; she was having the same effect on him as well. Of course, Lucy being Lucy, she was oblivious to her allure, and tugged at his arm.

             
“What’s wrong with these people?” she muttered to her husband, pulling him along with her through the crowd of unfamiliar faces. There were a few she thought she recognized but not many. For some strange reason, all eyes seemed to be on them, and it was making her nervous. Lucy steered Alec towards the refreshment table and hoped there was some liquor in the green liquid masquerading as punch. She needed something to take the edge off.

             
Alec handed her a goblet of punch and grinned when she gulped it back, wincing in disgust. He took a small sip and nearly fell on the floor. Whatever the stuff was, it wasn’t punch!

             
“Do you see him?” she half shouted above the din and bit into a crostini slathered in sun-dried tomato tapenade.

             
Alec shook his head and scanned the crowd. There were several blokes dressed as Julius Caesar, a few as Dracula, and quite many as Casanova. He didn’t see Gavin. Maybe they weren’t looking hard enough. “Maybe we should split up!” he shouted and pointed towards the refreshment table. “We’ll meet back here in an hour!”

             
“Okay!” she shouted back and squeezed his hand before watching him disappear into a sea of excess, his cloak flapping dismissively behind him. Then she was on her own.
Where to start?
Lucy was loathe to leave the food as she hadn’t had dinner, but several men were giving her the eye, and she decided it was probably in her best interest to leave for safer shores. She grabbed a few dry crackers and munched as she made her way casually through the crowds. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to make out a figure that even dressed as Marc Antony, would bear a slight resemblance to Alec.

             
Lucy caught snippets of vicious gossip and vapid conversations between friends. But she didn’t see anyone resembling Gavin. Perhaps Marco’s source had been wrong. Maybe Gavin had opted not to come. She sighed and made her way to a desolate corner where a lonely palm tree sat in a black cauldron. At least here she could observe without being accosted as she’d already been propositioned by several married men, most of them known fathers! Lucy had never felt so ashamed in her entire life. And it was
this
dress’s fault! Whatever
had
she been thinking when she put it on?

             
She tugged at her bodice and hoped she wouldn’t catch pneumonia. Lucy glanced up and her eyes widened in shock.
It was Vivian.
She hadn’t seen her stepmother since that awful night she’d walked in on her and Dean going at it. Lucy knew that arrogant stance anywhere. She posed regally as Cleopatra in a floor-length gold gown that clung like a second skin, and it was obvious to those around her that she wore nothing beneath. Her catlike green eyes were heavily lined in kohl, and a black braided wig covered the flowing blonde tresses. Lucy could see she was on the prowl---seen and being seen---and she rolled her eyes in disgust. The woman never failed to surprise her. She was about to leave her shelter when she saw that Vivian had spied her. But Lucy didn’t think she recognized her. An odd look flickered over her lovely face and then she looked away.

             
Breathing a sigh of relief, Lucy left her shelter, and was immediately accosted by a fat little man dressed as Napoleon. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere, Senora?” His beady eyes were pressed into his doughy face like two lumps of coal.

             
Lucy held her fan in front of her bosom to protect herself from his wandering gaze. “I-I don’t think so,” she said, feeling faint and wondering wildly where Alec was. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him at the moment. “This is my first party,” Lucy told him politely and tried to go around him, but he blocked her with his body.

             
“I don’t think I can let a beauty like yourself get away from me!” He undressed her with his eyes, wondering where such a fetching creature had been hiding all his life. “You’ve got to dance with me! I won’t take no for an answer!” He grabbed her hand and Lucy was commandeered into dancing with the little toad…albeit reluctantly.

             
Then that’s when it hit her.
The toady!
She was dancing with Gavin’s manager! Finally! She towered over him by several inches, mostly because of the shoes, but she allowed him to lead her in a clumsy tango. Lucy bit back a grimace of disgust at the feel of his sweaty palms and did her best impersonation of a brainless sexpot. “You’re such a good dancer!” she giggled foolishly. “I was just about to give up all hope of being swept off my feet!”