money—or did she? What was the deal?
“No, I don’t want to pay your rent,” he said, puzzled and at the same time intrigued that she would make such a request.
She rolled over in bed, all smooth silky skin and long flowing hair. Reaching up, she gently touched his cheek and smiled slightly. “Are you sure, Bobby?” she murmured.
“I’m sure,” he replied, feeling relieved. Asking him to pay her rent was obviously her idea of a joke.
Not funny.
After their one night of passion Serenity stopped taking his calls and completely shut him out.
He was shocked and confused. What a bitch! A bitch he couldn’t wait to sleep with again. He was hooked, and that was not a good thing.
A few days later she turned up at a private party PUMA was throwing at Mood , and attached herself to the star deejay, Frankie Romano.
This pissed Bobby off big-time. Why the hell was she going after Frankie? Everyone knew that Frankie was a major womanizing cokehead whom M.J. sometimes hired for the occasional big party.
He made an attempt to talk to Serenity, but she blew him off, acting as if she barely knew him.
Furious, he grabbed hold of M.J. and told him to dump the deejay. M.J. wasn’t having it. “No way, man,” he argued. “Frankie’s the best in town.”
Seething, Bobby watched Serenity’s action with Frankie from the sidelines, ignoring the parade of girls coming on to him.
Plain fact. He wanted Serenity. Nobody else would do.
Plain fact. She wanted nothing more to do with him. And when he called her the next day, he discovered she’d changed her phone number, which really infuriated him.
“What’s Frankie Romano’s story?” he asked M.J.
M.J. didn’t seem to know much. “Seems like an okay dude. He sure as shit gets `em out on the dance floor. We like him.”
“Invite him for a drink,” Bobby said. “He’s working our club, so I should get to know him better, right?”
M.J. wasn’t fooled. He and Bobby went way back—they’d bonded in high school and stayed tight ever since. There wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.
Frankie turned up stoned. Bobby launched right in.
“You’re seeing Serenity, right?” he asked.
Frankie gave a knowing grin. “You could say she’s one of many.”
“Yeah?” Bobby said, curbing an urge to wipe the smirk off Frankie’s face. “She asked you to pay her rent yet?”
“Huh?” Frankie started rapidly blinking.
“Her rent,” Bobby repeated. “The request usually comes after the first fuck.”
“Jeez!” Frankie said, frowning. “Are you shittin’ me?”
“Do I look like I am?”
Frankie began to laugh. “What’s the deal? Is she hookin’ on the side?”
Bobby hunched his shoulders. “Who knows?”
Two days later Frankie reported back.
“You’re on it, man. Last night I got her in the sack at my place, an’ right after we did it, she asked me.”
“What’d you say?”
“I bailed, gave her money for a cab, and told her to go home. That kinda action is not for me.”
Bobby nodded. It wasn’t for him either, but in spite of the fact that she’d slept with Frankie, he still couldn’t help wanting to see her again. Maybe one last time.
He waited a few days, then turned up at her apartment.
Inga, the six-foot Swedish model, answered the door.
“Oh,” Inga said, brushing back a lock of white-blond hair. “It’s you. Have you come to take the puppy back? I hope so, `cause I can’t look after it.”
Bobby shook his head. “Is Serenity around?”
Inga gave a dry brittle laugh. “Serenity is gone,” she said. “Went out on a date and never came back.”
“Where’s she gone?”
“I have no idea,” Inga said, gesturing vaguely. “She took nothing with her. No clothes, no money, not even her passport.”
“That doesn’t sound right.”
“Serenity has always been very secretive.”
“Did she need money?”
“Serenity need money?” Inga started to laugh again. “That girl has more money than any of
“No, I don’t want to pay your rent,” he said, puzzled and at the same time intrigued that she would make such a request.
She rolled over in bed, all smooth silky skin and long flowing hair. Reaching up, she gently touched his cheek and smiled slightly. “Are you sure, Bobby?” she murmured.
“I’m sure,” he replied, feeling relieved. Asking him to pay her rent was obviously her idea of a joke.
Not funny.
After their one night of passion Serenity stopped taking his calls and completely shut him out.
He was shocked and confused. What a bitch! A bitch he couldn’t wait to sleep with again. He was hooked, and that was not a good thing.
A few days later she turned up at a private party PUMA was throwing at Mood , and attached herself to the star deejay, Frankie Romano.
This pissed Bobby off big-time. Why the hell was she going after Frankie? Everyone knew that Frankie was a major womanizing cokehead whom M.J. sometimes hired for the occasional big party.
He made an attempt to talk to Serenity, but she blew him off, acting as if she barely knew him.
Furious, he grabbed hold of M.J. and told him to dump the deejay. M.J. wasn’t having it. “No way, man,” he argued. “Frankie’s the best in town.”
Seething, Bobby watched Serenity’s action with Frankie from the sidelines, ignoring the parade of girls coming on to him.
Plain fact. He wanted Serenity. Nobody else would do.
Plain fact. She wanted nothing more to do with him. And when he called her the next day, he discovered she’d changed her phone number, which really infuriated him.
“What’s Frankie Romano’s story?” he asked M.J.
M.J. didn’t seem to know much. “Seems like an okay dude. He sure as shit gets `em out on the dance floor. We like him.”
“Invite him for a drink,” Bobby said. “He’s working our club, so I should get to know him better, right?”
M.J. wasn’t fooled. He and Bobby went way back—they’d bonded in high school and stayed tight ever since. There wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.
Frankie turned up stoned. Bobby launched right in.
“You’re seeing Serenity, right?” he asked.
Frankie gave a knowing grin. “You could say she’s one of many.”
“Yeah?” Bobby said, curbing an urge to wipe the smirk off Frankie’s face. “She asked you to pay her rent yet?”
“Huh?” Frankie started rapidly blinking.
“Her rent,” Bobby repeated. “The request usually comes after the first fuck.”
“Jeez!” Frankie said, frowning. “Are you shittin’ me?”
“Do I look like I am?”
Frankie began to laugh. “What’s the deal? Is she hookin’ on the side?”
Bobby hunched his shoulders. “Who knows?”
Two days later Frankie reported back.
“You’re on it, man. Last night I got her in the sack at my place, an’ right after we did it, she asked me.”
“What’d you say?”
“I bailed, gave her money for a cab, and told her to go home. That kinda action is not for me.”
Bobby nodded. It wasn’t for him either, but in spite of the fact that she’d slept with Frankie, he still couldn’t help wanting to see her again. Maybe one last time.
He waited a few days, then turned up at her apartment.
Inga, the six-foot Swedish model, answered the door.
“Oh,” Inga said, brushing back a lock of white-blond hair. “It’s you. Have you come to take the puppy back? I hope so, `cause I can’t look after it.”
Bobby shook his head. “Is Serenity around?”
Inga gave a dry brittle laugh. “Serenity is gone,” she said. “Went out on a date and never came back.”
“Where’s she gone?”
“I have no idea,” Inga said, gesturing vaguely. “She took nothing with her. No clothes, no money, not even her passport.”
“That doesn’t sound right.”
“Serenity has always been very secretive.”
“Did she need money?”
“Serenity need money?” Inga started to laugh again. “That girl has more money than any of
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