Lady Boss (28 page)

Martin Swanson said he didn't have fantasies.

Bull—

Shit.

Martin Swanson was a man. He had fantasies all right. And Venus Maria had figured out the one that would really turn him on – that all-time favourite, two girls together.

Only Venus Maria had no plans to appear as one of the girls. Group sex did not interest her. She liked her sexual experiences to be between two people – private and personal and wildly sensuous.

Martin needed shaking up. He was too stiff-assed, more concerned about his next deal than his sensual pleasure. Although Venus Maria had to admit she'd loosened him up considerably.

Late at night, alone in her bed, alone in Los Angeles, she often wondered if Deena was receiving the benefit of Martin's new experience. He swore he never slept with his wife anymore, but he was a man, and all men lied about sex. Especially married men.

Venus Maria loved Martin. She didn't know why. But she did know she had to have him.

It wasn't his money, because she had plenty of her own.

It wasn't his looks, because although he was an attractive man he was no Mel Gibson.

It wasn't his personality, because even when he turned on the charm he was not exactly Mister Nice.

Love's a bitch
, Venus Maria thought bitterly, and hurried to rendezvous with Ron, who had brought two expensive hookers to her house, supplied by his friend Madame Loretta. (Ron collected weird friends – useful on this occasion.)

The girls did not look like whores. One of them resembled a college cheerleader – in fact she'd dressed the part. And the other was a five-feet-tall Oriental girl with shiny jet hair hanging below her ass.

Ron grinned. He adored intrigue. ‘Meet Tai and Lemon.'

Venus Maria raised an eyebrow. ‘Lemon?'

‘That's me!' squeaked the cheerleader. ‘My real name too! I love your records!'

That was the trouble with being famous. Everyone knew your business.

Trying to remain cool and uninvolved, Venus Maria told the girls exactly what she wished them to do, adding, somewhat apologetically, ‘It's for a friend's birthday, y'know. A special treat.'

‘
Veree
special,' interjected Ron with a sly grin.

‘Shut up!' hissed Venus Maria.

The girls were true professionals. They knew exactly what was expected of them. Stripping down to silky undergarments, they produced a lethal-looking vibrator and a bottle of scented oil, then entered the bedroom where Martin Swanson lay waiting.

Venus Maria estimated he'd been alone for twenty minutes. Long enough to drive him a little bit crazy.

She hurried to the two-way mirror she'd had specially installed.

‘Can I watch too?' Ron begged, following her.

‘No, you can't,' she replied sternly. ‘Just wait and get these two girls out of here when I'm ready.'

‘Spoilsport!'

‘Since when did
you
like watching girls?'

‘Oh, I don't care about
them
. It's himself I wouldn't mind taking a peek at.'

‘Ron! Behave yourself!'

Martin was still tied up when the girls entered the bedroom. Determined not to lose the bet, he didn't move.

Tai and Lemon ignored him as they started in on each other. First they kissed. And then they touched nipples, delicately brushing silk against silk.

Breathlessly Venus Maria watched as Martin rose to the occasion.

Tai undid Lemon's bra, and the pretty blonde's breasts tumbled free, surprisingly large and firm.

Martin groaned.

Tai fixed her mouth onto a welcoming nipple.

Martin groaned louder.

Lemon divested herself of her panties. She had shaved her pubic area, and the skin there was very white.

Tai's long dark hair swept downwards as she bent to kiss between Lemon's legs. Obligingly Lemon spread wide.

‘Oh God, Venus!' Martin managed, desperately trying not to move.

Tai stopped attending to Lemon, and unclipped her own bra before stepping out of her panties. Her black bush was forest thick – all the better for Lemon to return the favour and bury her blond curls.

Venus Maria could see Martin was desperate for release. His penis stood erect and ready. But still he didn't break the bonds.

Tai stepped back from Lemon, took the bottle of oil, and squeezed it over both their breasts.

Then Lemon reached for the vibrator, switched it on, and held it to Tai's pubic mound.

Martin reached orgasm, spurting all over himself.

‘God damn it!' he muttered. ‘God
damn!
'

Time to do away with the entertainment. Venus Maria entered the room, waving the girls out.

They picked up their things and exited quickly.

‘Hmmm…' Venus Maria stared mesmerizingly at her prisoner. ‘You've been a bad boy. Look at the mess you've made.'

‘Come here,' he said desperately.

‘Wait!' she commanded.

‘Come
here!
' he insisted.

She walked slowly into the bathroom, came back with a fluffy white towel, and wiped him clean.

‘Not such a big shot on campus, after all,' she sighed.

‘You're unbelievable!'

‘I try to please.'

‘I want to fuck you.'

‘What else is new?'

‘I want to—'

‘What?'

‘Spend more time with you.'

‘That's nice. How about your wife?'

‘She's in New York.'

‘I know.'

‘Come here, Venus. Untie me. All bets are off.'

She glanced at her Cartier tank watch, a present from Martin last time he was in town. ‘You have another thirty-five minutes to go.'

‘I want out.'

‘Pay me.'

‘No way.'

‘Then… stay where you are and keep quiet. A bet is a bet is a bet is a—'

‘I
know
what a bet is.'

She had on denim cut-offs and a white T-shirt. Standing at the end of the bed she did a slow strip. Underneath she wore crotchless red lace panties and a cut-out black leather bra. Hooker gear designed to excite.

Stretching her arms into the air she grinned provocatively. ‘I think I'll go see Cooper,' she said.

Martin broke the silk scarves with one bound and was on her like a randy New York tycoon.

‘You're something else,' he said.

‘And so are you,' she whispered softly. ‘So are you.'

Harry Browning took his time deciding what he should do about Luce. He brooded about it on and off for a couple of weeks before approaching her. He couldn't help noticing her promotion. All of a sudden this strange woman who'd entered the studio as Sheila Hervey's niece was suddenly ensconced as Mickey Stolli's personal secretary. And where was Olive? The rumour was she'd broken her leg and was not coming back for a while. How convenient.

Harry waited until Luce was sitting alone in the commissary one lunchtime and then he approached her.

She glanced up at him. ‘Hello, Harry.'

He sat down at her table without being invited. ‘What are you up to?' he demanded accusingly.

She stared straight at him. Two more weeks to go and she was out of this charade. ‘I beg your pardon?' she said calmly.

He fiddled with his spectacles, took them off, cleaned them with a napkin, and put them on again. ‘What exactly are you up to?' he repeated excitedly. ‘I know it's something.'

Lucky remained cool. ‘I'm not getting your drift.'

‘I'm no fool,' Harry Browning said agitatedly. ‘You lured me to your apartment, got me drunk, and tried to wheedle information out of me.'

This was unexpected. Lucky wasn't sure how to play it. ‘I've no idea what you're talking about,' she said at last. ‘I never lured you anywhere. You asked me out and I offered to cook you dinner. It's not my fault you hit the booze.'

Harry narrowed his eyes beneath his wire-rimmed spectacles. He was unhappy with the way this was going. He'd expected her to be more unsettled, not quite so in control. Determined to get to the point, he pressed on. ‘I
know
what you're up to,' he said.

‘If you know,' she replied coolly, ‘how come you're asking
me?
'

This stumped Harry for a moment. He didn't like her attitude. He didn't like her. And he certainly didn't like the fact that she'd made him turn to the bottle again. ‘Does Mickey Stolli know who you are?' he demanded hotly.

‘Who am I?' she replied, staring him down.

‘Who are you?' he persisted. ‘Why don't
you
tell
me?
Or do I have to ask Mr. Stolli myself?'

‘What would you ask him exactly?'

‘To investigate your background. I know that's a wig you're wearing. And you don't need glasses. I also know you visited Abe Panther the other night.'

She stared him down. ‘Then perhaps you should ask Mr. Panther what this is all about.'

Harry lapsed into silence. Spotting a mark on the tablecloth he went to work, rubbing vigorously with his napkin.

Lucky took a slow beat. ‘Whose side are you on, Harry?' she asked, keeping an even tone.

‘What do you mean?' he asked suspiciously.

‘You're well aware of the kind of product this studio is turning out. You know how it used to be.'

‘It used to be great,' he said vehemently.

Lucky nodded. ‘It can be great again, Harry. Just trust me.'

He was indignant. ‘Why should I trust somebody who tried to get me drunk?'

‘I had no idea you had a… problem.'

He jumped on that one. ‘Did Mr. Panther tell you?'

‘Abe Panther never mentioned you.'

She wasn't sure whether he believed her or not, but she decided she wasn't hanging around to find out. She got up from the table and prepared to leave. ‘Harry,' she said, ‘you'd be doing me an enormous favour if you didn't tell anybody what's going on.'

‘I'll do what I like,' he said curtly.

‘In two weeks' time,' she said slowly, ‘everything will be clear.'

‘I'll do what I like,' he repeated. ‘You'd better be careful. I'm watching you.'

Hurrying back to the office she thought about things. Another week working for Mickey Stolli. Another week closer to the end of this charade. And what had she discovered? That most people were stealing. That there were a lot of petty scams going on. And that men in the film business used women as commodities.

When she took over, Mickey Stolli was out, and so were most of his little band of merry men. She already had her lawyer, Morton Sharkey, preparing a list of suitable replacements.

‘Let's bring some women executives aboard,' she'd suggested, and Morton had agreed. Already he was coming up with suggestions, although there weren't that many women executives to choose from.

In the meantime, Lennie was still on the missing list. Nobody seemed to know his whereabouts.

She knew why he was doing it. Lennie had this childish habit of retaliating with more of the same. She'd done it to him, so he figured he'd pay her back.

She really couldn't blame him, because if the situation were reversed she'd probably behave in exactly the same way.

Her conversation with Harry Browning was disturbing. What exactly
did
he know? Maybe she should have stayed and talked to him some more. But the quickest way out of a difficult situation seemed to be retreat.

She made it back to the office five minutes before Mickey. He returned from his lunch early and shut himself away, telling Lucky that when Leslie Kane arrived she was to keep her waiting. ‘And if Eddie calls,' he added, ‘don't let him know his wife's here.'

Lucky had realized from Mickey's previous conversation and meeting with Eddie that they were indeed into some distribution scam with certain underworld figures. She'd instructed Boogie to investigate, and Boogie had come up with the news that Eddie Kane was dealing with Carlo Bonnatti.

It was a strange and unwelcome coincidence. Carlo, the scumbag brother of Santino and son of Enzio. The Bonnattis had always been enemies of the Santangelos. Their feud went back to the good old Vegas days. And now that Santino and Enzio were deceased, it was Carlo who controlled the family drug and porno empire.

It was weird, Lucky thought, how the Bonnattis stayed connected to her life. She would be more than happy if she never had to hear the name again.

From what Boogie was able to find out, Eddie Kane had made an arrangement with the Bonnatti organization to distribute their porno films in Europe, hiding them along with legitimate Panther product. If Lucky read Mickey correctly, he was anxious to get out of the deal, and wisely so, for Lucky knew it was a big mistake to fuck with the Bonnattis.

Leslie Kane turned up promptly at three o'clock. She gave Lucky a friendly smile. ‘I'm here to see Mr. Stolli,' she said brightly. ‘My name is Leslie Kane. I have an appointment.'

Lucky was surprised. She hadn't realized Eddie was married to such a fresh-looking beauty. ‘He's expecting you. Take a seat, I'll let him know you're here.'

Leslie sat down, picked up a copy of
People
magazine, and leafed through it. After a moment she put the magazine down. ‘I'm not too early, am I?' she asked anxiously.

Lucky glanced up. ‘You're exactly on time. Your appointment is for three.'

Lesley nodded thankfully. ‘That's right.'

Mickey kept her waiting twenty-five minutes. He didn't come to his office door to greet her. Lucky had noticed he only made that meaningful move for major stars. As soon as Leslie entered his office, Lucky put on her miniature headphones, activated the tape machine, and began picking up every word.

‘Sit down, sit down,' Mickey said, gesturing at Leslie.

She sat in a chair opposite him, full of rapt attention. ‘You wanted to see me, Mr. Stolli?'