her.’
* * *
Matt reached Lucky before Gino. His tone was cool.
‘Are you pissed at me?’ she questioned.
‘Why should I be? I dig getting out of bed at two o’clock in the morning and firing a first-class comedian who didn’t do a thing to deserve it.’
‘Don’t say dig. It makes you sound like some creep from the stone age.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ A long silence which she finally broke. ‘Who will you replace him with?’
‘A singing nun. Should send people to the tables in droves.’
‘Ha, ha. Was he upset?’
‘Of course the poor bastard was upset. His ego took a nosedive.’
‘Tough.’ She paused, then added, ‘You paid him for the whole two weeks?’
‘I even gave him a bonus.’
‘Then that’s okay.’
‘If you say so.’
She put the phone down and hoped she would never set eyes on Lennie Golden again. He was the first man ever to reject her advances. Still . . . even if he had performed she would have fired him. He had gotten himself caught in a no-win situation. It was his own fault anyway, he had started the whole thing by the pool in the afternoon – coming on to her like stud-of-the-year. Of course, physically he was undeniably attractive. Not her type, she didn’t go for the Robert Redford look. She liked her men dark and hard with a certain menace about them. Who did the creep think he was anyway? She hated guys like that.
Suddenly she saw the funny side of it. Mr Come-on couldn’t get it up. The only way he made it was his way.
She hoped he had learnt his lesson.
* * *
The pure yellow diamond ring on the widow Martino’s pinky sparkled brightly.
Gino could not wipe the grin from his face.
Lucky scowled.
Another sensational evening. Just the three of them this time. And the bitch giving Lucky digs that she recognized as major danger signals.
Naturally it was all very civilized. Susan, calm and charming. Only Lucky caught every one of the zingers that came her way.
She did not rise to the bait. She knew she was being set up, and there was no way she was blowing it in front of Gino. Susan wanted her to blow. Susan wanted a confrontation.
So Lucky stayed cool. She smiled and fended impertinent questions, and laughed and joked, while all the time her black eyes shone with fury that this grasping woman had somehow invaded their lives.
‘What do you think?’ Gino asked proudly, when Susan finally went to the ladies room.
I think you’re getting senile.
I think she’s a cunt.
‘I think she’s very . . . uh . . .’ she groped for a suitable adjective ‘. . . attractive.’ Jokingly she added, ‘But isn’t she a touch ancient for Gino the Ram?’
She used the nickname he had carried in his youth. Costa had told her all about that part of his life.
Gino fingered the almost faded scar on his cheek, another reminder of far-off days, and smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t want the twenty year olds, they got no conversation. I don’t want the thirty year olds, they’re all lookin’ to get hitched. Susan’s just right for me.’
‘How old is she?’
‘I don’t know, and I ain’t bothered. Forty something. Who gives a shit?’
Forty something, my ass. She has to be over fifty at the very least.
‘She must have been awfully young when she married Tiny. Weren’t they together thirty years?’ Lucky asked artlessly.
‘Nah. More like twenty.’
‘Oh. I read somewhere it was thirty.’
‘Yeh?’
At least she had implanted the suspicion that the widow Martino was older than he thought.
‘Excuse me, dear.’ Susan returned to the table freshly powdered and lipsticked, and smelling of Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew.
Lucky stifled her fury. She was not about to sit there any longer. ‘I think I’ll stroll around the casino. You don’t mind, do you?’
Mind? They couldn’t care less if she took a running dive off the roof of the hotel.
Chapter Eleven
The twins greeted Lennie exuberantly. He hadn’t
* * *
Matt reached Lucky before Gino. His tone was cool.
‘Are you pissed at me?’ she questioned.
‘Why should I be? I dig getting out of bed at two o’clock in the morning and firing a first-class comedian who didn’t do a thing to deserve it.’
‘Don’t say dig. It makes you sound like some creep from the stone age.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ A long silence which she finally broke. ‘Who will you replace him with?’
‘A singing nun. Should send people to the tables in droves.’
‘Ha, ha. Was he upset?’
‘Of course the poor bastard was upset. His ego took a nosedive.’
‘Tough.’ She paused, then added, ‘You paid him for the whole two weeks?’
‘I even gave him a bonus.’
‘Then that’s okay.’
‘If you say so.’
She put the phone down and hoped she would never set eyes on Lennie Golden again. He was the first man ever to reject her advances. Still . . . even if he had performed she would have fired him. He had gotten himself caught in a no-win situation. It was his own fault anyway, he had started the whole thing by the pool in the afternoon – coming on to her like stud-of-the-year. Of course, physically he was undeniably attractive. Not her type, she didn’t go for the Robert Redford look. She liked her men dark and hard with a certain menace about them. Who did the creep think he was anyway? She hated guys like that.
Suddenly she saw the funny side of it. Mr Come-on couldn’t get it up. The only way he made it was his way.
She hoped he had learnt his lesson.
* * *
The pure yellow diamond ring on the widow Martino’s pinky sparkled brightly.
Gino could not wipe the grin from his face.
Lucky scowled.
Another sensational evening. Just the three of them this time. And the bitch giving Lucky digs that she recognized as major danger signals.
Naturally it was all very civilized. Susan, calm and charming. Only Lucky caught every one of the zingers that came her way.
She did not rise to the bait. She knew she was being set up, and there was no way she was blowing it in front of Gino. Susan wanted her to blow. Susan wanted a confrontation.
So Lucky stayed cool. She smiled and fended impertinent questions, and laughed and joked, while all the time her black eyes shone with fury that this grasping woman had somehow invaded their lives.
‘What do you think?’ Gino asked proudly, when Susan finally went to the ladies room.
I think you’re getting senile.
I think she’s a cunt.
‘I think she’s very . . . uh . . .’ she groped for a suitable adjective ‘. . . attractive.’ Jokingly she added, ‘But isn’t she a touch ancient for Gino the Ram?’
She used the nickname he had carried in his youth. Costa had told her all about that part of his life.
Gino fingered the almost faded scar on his cheek, another reminder of far-off days, and smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t want the twenty year olds, they got no conversation. I don’t want the thirty year olds, they’re all lookin’ to get hitched. Susan’s just right for me.’
‘How old is she?’
‘I don’t know, and I ain’t bothered. Forty something. Who gives a shit?’
Forty something, my ass. She has to be over fifty at the very least.
‘She must have been awfully young when she married Tiny. Weren’t they together thirty years?’ Lucky asked artlessly.
‘Nah. More like twenty.’
‘Oh. I read somewhere it was thirty.’
‘Yeh?’
At least she had implanted the suspicion that the widow Martino was older than he thought.
‘Excuse me, dear.’ Susan returned to the table freshly powdered and lipsticked, and smelling of Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew.
Lucky stifled her fury. She was not about to sit there any longer. ‘I think I’ll stroll around the casino. You don’t mind, do you?’
Mind? They couldn’t care less if she took a running dive off the roof of the hotel.
Chapter Eleven
The twins greeted Lennie exuberantly. He hadn’t
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