Lady Boss (72 page)

They'd been together almost a year. Loyalty. Ha! It didn't exist anymore. Ken was a taker. Venus Maria had been right about him all along. The Ken Doll – what an apt description.

Adam Bobo Grant approached him. ‘Sensational party, Ron. You certainly do things with style.'

‘Thank you, Adam.'

‘Tell me, where's your… friend?'

‘He's not my friend anymore.'

‘Really?'

‘Really.'

* * *

‘You have beautiful hair,' Saxon said, reaching out to touch.

‘Thank you,' Leslie replied, backing away.

‘In fact, you're a very beautiful girl. Are you an actress?'

She stared at him – wide-eyed and luscious. ‘No. Are you an actor?'

He tossed his mane of hair. ‘Do I look like one?'

‘You're certainly handsome enough,' she said shyly.

‘Who did you come with?'

‘Friends. Who are you with?'

‘A married lady about to get a divorce who changed her mind and reconciled with her husband tonight.'

‘Do you always take out married ladies?'

‘They're kind of… attracted to me.' He stared at her fresh beauty. ‘Why, are
you
married?'

She lowered her eyes. ‘I'm not sure.'

* * *

Frankie and Arnie had picked up four girls. ‘We're goin' back to the house to party,' Arnie said, grabbing Eddie. ‘Get your ass in gear.'

Eddie had been pacing around all night long. He'd spotted Leslie early on and kept an eye on her. Now she was talking to some long-haired asshole and it pissed him off. He hadn't spoken to her, because he didn't know what to say.

‘Sure, sure, I'll be with you in a minute.' He waved Arnie away.

‘We're outta here now,' Frankie said. ‘See ya later.'

Eddie went to the john one more time. He laid out the last of his coke on the mirrored top, neatly arranged it into three thin lines, and snorted it through a hundred-dollar bill.

As the cocaine exploded in his brain he had a revelation.

Eddie Kane was going straight.

Leslie was going to help him.

Fuck everybody else. He'd made his decision.

* * *

And so the party ended. One by one the staff finished off their duties and went home for the night. The musicians packed up and left. The valet parkers produced the last of the cars.

Eventually there was peace and quiet.

The party was over.

In Venus Maria's house a shaking hand groped for the phone and dialed 911.

‘Help,' a frantic voice gasped. Please help us. Someone's been shot. Come as fast as you can.'

* * *

Something woke Lennie. He didn't know what it was. Still half asleep he reached out to see if Lucky was in bed beside him. She wasn't there. Shit!

Rolling out of bed, he wandered into the bathroom, glancing at his watch on the way. It was past one o'clock.

Something was wrong. He had a feeling. The kind of feeling you get when you wake up after a real bad nightmare.

He walked around the house. There was nobody home, but the waves breaking on the shoreline sounded awfully loud.

In the living room he found the doors leading out to the deck were open.

Strange, he couldn't remember them being open before.

He went over to close them, and it was then that he saw a sight he was never going to forget.

A man – illuminated by the moonlight – was dragging a body into the sea.

Instinctively Lennie yelled out, ‘Hey!'

The man turned around, dropped the body, and began to sprint off along the beach.

Lennie raced down the steps onto the sand and ran towards the raging surf, heading towards where the man had been standing.

By the time he got there, whoever it was had vanished into the darkness.

Lennie waded into the surf. He couldn't see anything, and yet he was sure he'd seen the guy hauling something into the sea.

Another wave crashed in and then subsided. Suddenly he spotted a body lying there, slowly being dragged out to sea. It was Lucky. Oh, Jesus Christ, it was Lucky!

Stumbling, he managed to grab her under the arms, and little by little – because she was like a dead weight – he dragged and pulled her up onto the sand.

Was she breathing? He couldn't tell. He tried to remember everything he'd ever learned about CPR. Drowning… drowning… what the hell were you supposed to do when somebody was drowning?

Get the water out, turn her upside down. Oh God! This was his worst nightmare come true.

And he had no idea if he was going to be able to save her.

The funeral was a sombre affair. The mourners wore black. And the huge crowd overflowed the church.

Martin was there, ignoring the crazed paparazzi as he walked inside, head bowed.

Several illegal helicopters hovered overhead.

Ahh… the price of fame…

* * *

‘I still feel like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson,' Lucky said, speaking carefully. Her jaw was bruised where the unknown assailant had smashed into it with his fist, and her arm was broken. That was before he'd tried to drag her into the ocean and attempted to drown her.

‘If anything ever happened to you—' Lennie began.

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. ‘I'm here, you're here. That's enough. Don't let's think about what could have been if you hadn't come back to me.'

He looked at her and shook his head. ‘I guess we were meant to be, Mrs. Golden.'

Ruefully she smiled up at him and responded with a simple ‘Yes, Mr. Golden, I guess we were.'

* * *

‘She was a fine woman,' said the minister. ‘Fine and respected. And she will be missed.'

Martin stared straight ahead as the minister continued with the eulogy.

Yes, she would be missed, and so would Venus Maria. She'd run off to Mexico City and married Cooper Turner three days after Deena had turned the gun on herself and blown her own brains out in front of them.

Fate.

Who could control it?

Not even Martin Swanson.

He'd been publicly disgraced and humiliated all within days. It reflected badly on his image.

But he would rise again.

Nothing could hold Martin Swanson back. A tarnished image could regain its lustre. He was working towards that goal.

* * *

They watched the funeral on television.

‘Tough break,' Lennie said quietly.

‘For whom?' Lucky asked.

‘All of them.'

‘Yes.'

‘Listen,' Lennie said. ‘I talked to the police again. They've still got no lead on who it was. Are you absolutely certain you don't know anything?'

‘I have no idea,' Lucky said, picking up a magazine and glancing through it.

‘You're sure?'

Bobby raced into the room. ‘Grandpa's gettin' married,' he yelled. ‘Grandpa's gettin' married.' He leaped on the bed and began bouncing up and down.

‘When?' asked Lucky, throwing down the magazine.

‘Soon as he can,' shouted Bobby. ‘And I'm his best man. He told me, he said so.'

Brigette followed Bobby into the bedroom. ‘It's true,' she said, full of giggles. ‘Gino says he and Paige are getting married the minute her divorce comes through and they're going to live in Palm Springs.'

‘Gino will hate Palm Springs,' Lucky murmured, shaking her head.

‘If he's with Paige – Alaska will do it for him,' corrected Lennie.

Brigette jumped on the bed too. ‘Can Nona and I borrow your car, Lennie? We're meeting Paul at the airport.'

‘The Ferrari? No way, take the jeep.'

Brigette pulled a face. ‘I
do
drive a stick shift, you know,' she said haughtily.

‘Good for you. Take the jeep.'

‘Can I come with you?' yelled Bobby.

‘Keep the noise down – your mother's supposed to be resting,' Lennie said.

‘Can I?' screeched Bobby, jumping up and down.

‘Come on, brat,' replied Brigette. ‘Catch me if you can.'

They raced noisily out of the room.

‘Hmmm,' Lucky said. ‘And you want more kids? Aren't these two enough?'

He smiled. ‘I thought I did, but now that I know what it's like to almost lose you, we can do whatever you want. It's your call.'

‘And I made it.'

‘Huh?'

‘We're pregnant, Lennie.'

‘We're
what?
'

‘Yup. We're pregnant, and we own a studio, and we're going to make your screenplay, and we're still married, and hey, do you realize we've been married almost two years?'

He shook his head and grinned. ‘Two years, huh? And they said it wouldn't last.'

‘Spring open the champagne, husband.'

‘You got it, wife.'

Their eyes met and they smiled. Two stubborn, crazy, smart people.

A new adventure was just beginning.

Mickey and Abigaile Stolli reconciled.

Mickey eventually became the head of Orpheus Studios, although by that time it was owned by a Japanese conglomerate.

Abigaile continued to give tasteful dinner parties. Mickey continued to fool around.

Tabitha celebrated her fourteenth birthday by running away with an eighteen-year-old Hispanic waiter.

Abigaile and Mickey were unamused. They sent her off to L'Evier – a strict boarding school for young ladies in Switzerland – and hoped for the best.

Johnny Romano took Lucky's advice and made a simple, heartwarming comedy in which he played the hero. He did not say ‘motherfucker' once.

The film – a Panther production – went through the roof.

Johnny celebrated by asking Warner Franklin to marry him in the middle of a promotional tour of Europe. He'd taken her along for the company.

On the eve of their wedding in Italy, she met a six-foot-ten American basketball player and fell madly in love.

Johnny was left waiting at the church.

* * *

Emilio Sierra sold as many stories about his sister as he could, until there was nothing left to say.

When his money ran out he returned to New York and got a job as a bartender in a hot discotheque – where he met an ageing Euro-trash Contessa, who took a shine to his somewhat sleazy charm.

Emilio accompanied her to Marbella and learned how to tango.

They made an odd couple.

Eddie Kane tried for a reunion with his lovely wife.

Leslie wanted to get back together with him – after all, he needed her, and he'd faithfully promised to clean up his act. But something held her back and she told him they had to wait.

On his way to the beach house – high on yet another final blast of cocaine – his prized Maserati ricocheted out of control and hit a solid concrete wall head on.

Eddie Kane did not survive.

On his eighty-ninth birthday, Abe Panther married his longtime companion, Inga Irving.

His granddaughters – Abigaile and Primrose – were heartbroken.

After a short, abortive affair with Adam Bobo Grant, and still upset over the loss of the Ken Doll to the thieving arms of Antonio, Ron was granted his wish and met an older, richer, and far wiser man. His new friend was the owner of a big record company and revelled in mega-bucks. For once in his life Ron found himself on the receiving end, and happily accepted a Rolls-Royce, solid gold Rolex, and small Picasso in quick succession.

Venus Maria was thrilled for him.

* * *

Leslie Kane went to work at Ivana's as a receptionist. This enabled Saxon to keep a watchful eye on her.

Unfortunately Eddie had left her nothing but debts.

One day Abigaile Stolli spotted her, and thought she was the most exquisite creature she'd ever seen. ‘Are you an actress, dear?' she asked.

Leslie said no, but Abigaile insisted Mickey test her for his latest epic.

On screen Leslie's beauty was incandescent.

Within a year she was a star.

Brigette Stanislopoulos met the grandson of one of her grandfather Dimitri's business rivals. He was tall and blond and destined to be even richer than she was.

When she announced her engagement, Paul Webster stepped into the picture and declared his love for her.

Brigette was becoming wiser every year. ‘Too late,' she said. ‘Try someone not so close to your own age!'

When Steven first heard the news of Deena Swanson's bizarre suicide he felt almost responsible.

‘You couldn't have done a thing,' Mary-Lou said consolingly. ‘She was bent on self-destruction.'

‘But maybe I should have tried to talk to Martin or something.'

‘No,' Mary-Lou said firmly.

To his partner Jerry Myerson's fury, Steven found out the firm still had her million-dollar retainer, and made Jerry donate the entire amount to charity.

After that he felt better.

Gino Santangelo took care of business by making one phone call. It was enough.

Carlo Bonnatti suffered an unfortunate fall from the nineteenth floor of his Century City penthouse.

Nobody could figure out how it happened.

Link, his former right-hand man, got shot in an apparent mugging.

The perpetrators were never found.

Gino and Paige finally made it legal.

She was his fourth wife.

He was seventy-nine years old.

And very, very happy.

Martin Swanson slowly put his life together again after the scandal. He missed Deena – she'd been his true partner and a help in every way.

He did not miss Venus Maria – too much of a responsibility.

When his business empire began to crumble because of shady investments in junk bonds, he moved to Spain to avoid being arrested, and became involved with a voluptuous opera singer.

Gradually he began to plan his triumphant return to New York.

Venus Maria and Cooper Turner remained the darlings of the tabloids.