Olympia. In fact you should.’
Should I now? I don’t think so, because I don’t believe him. Besides, it’s Olympia’s problem, not mine. If she wants to keep this annoying dude around, then that’s her deal.
Warris’s moves on the dance floor are ridiculous, so after a few minutes I make my escape and scope out more of the crowded club.
And who do I find busying himself behind the bar? Jon.
‘What’re you doing here?’ I exclaim in surprise.
‘More like what are you doing here?’ he counters.
And of course I can see that he’s working as a barman, mixing drinks and handing them out.
‘This is my night-time job,’ he says, throwing me one of his cheeky crooked grins. ‘Three nights a week. Major tips.’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ I say, immediately realizing how dumb I sound. After all, I’ve only known him for a day – why would I know?
‘Who’re you here with?’ he asks.
‘Old people,’ I reply, keeping it vague. ‘Friends of Olympia’s.’
Earlier I’d told him about my rich schoolfriend, Olympia, and that we were staying at her aunt’s villa. No mention of our ages or that we are runaways. Didn’t want to put him off, and if he knew I was only fifteen I’m sure he’d back away like an express train on a collision course with a juggernaut.
‘Sorry I can’t spend time with you,’ Jon says, juggling a couple of martini glasses, which are whisked out of his hands by a waitress type in a skimpy leather dress. ‘Thanks, Marlene,’ he says.
Marlene scowls at me. I scowl back.
‘Take no notice of her,’ Jon says as Marlene vanishes into the depths of the club with the drinks. ‘She hates everyone, especially Americans.’
‘Nice,’ I mutter.
A man pushes past me and demands three beers and a vodka on the rocks.
I can see Jon is busy, so I decide to play it cool and return to my cosy group of misfits.
‘OK,’ I say, kind of reluctantly. ‘Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You got it,’ Jon says.
And that is that.
Chapter Twenty-One
G ino Santangelo was burning up with a deep-seated dark fury. His daughter, Lucky, had been on the missing list for several days and he had no idea where she could be. Costa had received the bad news from the school, whereupon Gino had immediately gotten on a plane, and with Costa in tow, gone straight to the school in Connecticut and interrogated the headmistress. The woman was as furious as they were – losing a student was not the right image to project for an exclusive private school’s reputation. The headmistress suggested they call the police. Gino responded with a flat no, he wanted no outside interference. Instead he insisted on questioning the girls in Lucky’s class and found out absolutely nothing. Then, after getting nowhere, he remembered the friend she’d spent the previous summer with, Olympia Stanislopolous, and he contacted her mother in London, who assured him that Olympia was at the family residence in Paris taking a Russian language course.
‘Double-check on her,’ Gino insisted.
‘I don’t have to,’ Mrs Stanislopolous responded in a frosty voice. ‘My daughter is a good girl.’
Screw good girls, Gino thought. Where the hell is my good girl – not – because he was well aware that Lucky was a wild one, she always had been. He’d never been able to totally control her – she was always giving him lip, answering back, informing him that she wanted to work in the family business next to him.
Doing what , for Chrissake? Didn’t she get it? She was a girl, and girls got married, stayed home and raised a family.
Oh yeah, right, so she didn’t have a mother. But he’d always made sure to have a female presence in the house – tutors, housekeepers, and then there was Costa’s wife, Jen. Lucky loved Jen, she was like a second mother to her.
Son-of-a-bitch! Where was his errant daughter?
His imagination began running riot. Had she been kidnapped? Raped? Tortured? Held captive by one
Should I now? I don’t think so, because I don’t believe him. Besides, it’s Olympia’s problem, not mine. If she wants to keep this annoying dude around, then that’s her deal.
Warris’s moves on the dance floor are ridiculous, so after a few minutes I make my escape and scope out more of the crowded club.
And who do I find busying himself behind the bar? Jon.
‘What’re you doing here?’ I exclaim in surprise.
‘More like what are you doing here?’ he counters.
And of course I can see that he’s working as a barman, mixing drinks and handing them out.
‘This is my night-time job,’ he says, throwing me one of his cheeky crooked grins. ‘Three nights a week. Major tips.’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ I say, immediately realizing how dumb I sound. After all, I’ve only known him for a day – why would I know?
‘Who’re you here with?’ he asks.
‘Old people,’ I reply, keeping it vague. ‘Friends of Olympia’s.’
Earlier I’d told him about my rich schoolfriend, Olympia, and that we were staying at her aunt’s villa. No mention of our ages or that we are runaways. Didn’t want to put him off, and if he knew I was only fifteen I’m sure he’d back away like an express train on a collision course with a juggernaut.
‘Sorry I can’t spend time with you,’ Jon says, juggling a couple of martini glasses, which are whisked out of his hands by a waitress type in a skimpy leather dress. ‘Thanks, Marlene,’ he says.
Marlene scowls at me. I scowl back.
‘Take no notice of her,’ Jon says as Marlene vanishes into the depths of the club with the drinks. ‘She hates everyone, especially Americans.’
‘Nice,’ I mutter.
A man pushes past me and demands three beers and a vodka on the rocks.
I can see Jon is busy, so I decide to play it cool and return to my cosy group of misfits.
‘OK,’ I say, kind of reluctantly. ‘Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You got it,’ Jon says.
And that is that.
Chapter Twenty-One
G ino Santangelo was burning up with a deep-seated dark fury. His daughter, Lucky, had been on the missing list for several days and he had no idea where she could be. Costa had received the bad news from the school, whereupon Gino had immediately gotten on a plane, and with Costa in tow, gone straight to the school in Connecticut and interrogated the headmistress. The woman was as furious as they were – losing a student was not the right image to project for an exclusive private school’s reputation. The headmistress suggested they call the police. Gino responded with a flat no, he wanted no outside interference. Instead he insisted on questioning the girls in Lucky’s class and found out absolutely nothing. Then, after getting nowhere, he remembered the friend she’d spent the previous summer with, Olympia Stanislopolous, and he contacted her mother in London, who assured him that Olympia was at the family residence in Paris taking a Russian language course.
‘Double-check on her,’ Gino insisted.
‘I don’t have to,’ Mrs Stanislopolous responded in a frosty voice. ‘My daughter is a good girl.’
Screw good girls, Gino thought. Where the hell is my good girl – not – because he was well aware that Lucky was a wild one, she always had been. He’d never been able to totally control her – she was always giving him lip, answering back, informing him that she wanted to work in the family business next to him.
Doing what , for Chrissake? Didn’t she get it? She was a girl, and girls got married, stayed home and raised a family.
Oh yeah, right, so she didn’t have a mother. But he’d always made sure to have a female presence in the house – tutors, housekeepers, and then there was Costa’s wife, Jen. Lucky loved Jen, she was like a second mother to her.
Son-of-a-bitch! Where was his errant daughter?
His imagination began running riot. Had she been kidnapped? Raped? Tortured? Held captive by one
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