Free Lucky by Jackie Collins

twenty-one and out.
    ‘Aw, crap!’ the woman exclaimed loudly.
    Jess allowed herself a secret wink in Lennie’s direction. ‘Call me,’ she mouthed. She didn’t usually play God with the cards, but sometimes she just couldn’t help it.
    Lennie grinned and strolled away. Now that his evening was set he felt pretty good. They had loved him in the Bahia lounge – given him a great reception. His two week gig was going to be a big success – he could feel it. Now he had this wild-looking female to deal with – and she looked like more than enough to occupy him for two weeks. Maybe even make him forget Eden, although he doubted if she could do that. He wondered what her name was, what she was doing in Vegas, what she would be like in bed . . .
    Yeah . . . a two week relationship would suit him fine. He had had it with heavy involvements. First they stayed the night, next the weekend, finally they took over everything, until taking a shower was one long obstacle course strewn with panty-hose and bras.
    He hurried into the Bahia lounge, ordered himself a beer and a Bloody Mary for her . . . whatever her name was. He would know soon enough. He would know more than her name.
    *   *   *
     
    Matt Traynor’s apartment was decorated in early nouveauriche. A lot of ornamental gilt, black fur, fake marble, and damask couches. A sign behind the bar read ‘Matt’s Place’, and his lead crystal glasses were embossed with his initials, as were his shirts, socks, undershorts, sheets, towels, and pyjamas.
    ‘Wow!’ exclaimed his date, six months out of Ohio and impressed. ‘What a fabulous place.’
    He poured her undiluted Scotch, switched Sinatra on the stereo, and adjusted the pink lighting to low.
    ‘Wow!’ said Miss Ohio. ‘What a fabulous singer. Who is it?’
    ‘Are you jesting with me, young lady?’
    ‘What?’
    He wondered if she gave blow jobs.
    ‘Sinatra,’ he said.
    ‘Oh. Fabulous! ’
    ‘ You’re fabulous.’
    She giggled inanely, and sucked suggestively on an ice-cube.
    ‘In fact,’ he continued, ‘you’re the most fabulous girl I’ve seen all year.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Really.’
    He reached for her left boob and circled the nipple with his thumb.
    She took a swig of Scotch, put the glass down, and leaned back on the couch.
    He kept his thumb twirling, and bent to kiss her.
    She responded nicely while Sinatra crooned ‘Strangers in the Night’.
    He manoeuvred her boob from the confines of her scoop necklined sweater, and bent his head to the erect nipple.
    ‘Fabulous!’ she murmured.
    He unzipped his fly allowing what he considered to be a healthy hard-on to escape. Then he took her right hand and placed it where it would find gainful employment.
    The phone rang. He had forgotten to put on the answering machine.
    ‘Goddamn it!’ he said.
    ‘Don’t answer,’ she said.
    His hard-on deflated. He picked up the offending instrument. ‘Yes?’ he snapped.
    ‘Matt. This is Lucky. I want you here. Now. There’s something I need taking care of.’
    ‘Can’t it hold until tomorrow?’
    ‘No.’
    For the second time that night he was more than pissed off with the Santangelos. First Gino, now Lucky. The pair of them were a pain in the ass.
    ‘If it’s important—’
    ‘It is. Come to my apartment.’
    ‘I’ll be there.’
    ‘Fast.’
    He banged the receiver down and stood up. His penis hung out of his trousers, a sorry reminder of what might have been. Quickly he zipped it from sight.
    ‘I’ve got to go out,’ he said.
    ‘Oh, what a shame!’
    ‘Can you wait for me?’
    ‘Well . . .’
    ‘There’s television, and you can have fun in the jacuzzi. I won’t be long.’
    She wasn’t hard to persuade. ‘Fabulous!’ she said, and Sinatra crooned on.
    *   *   *
     
    Lennie glanced at his watch. Half an hour had passed and she obviously had no intention of showing up. Bitch! They were all the same. And this one was a whacko anyway, it was better she didn’t show.
    But