Free A Santangelo Story by Jackie Collins

A Bonus Santangelo Story: Part I
by
Jackie Collins
    Bobby Stanislopolous Santangelo could stop a room cold—he was that good-looking. Over six feet tall, twentysomething, dark and handsome, women loved him. He had that young John Kennedy Jr. thing going for him. Style, class, and sex appeal. Not to mention money—for he was the heir to two fortunes. His father’s, the late Greek billionaire Dimitri Stanislopolous, and his mom’s, the very much alive and wildly beautiful Lucky Santangelo—a true maverick who owned and built Las Vegas luxury hotels and apartment complexes.
    In spite of his rich heritage, Bobby was his own man, and after dropping out of college, he’d headed for New York where he’d opened a very successful club/restaurant—Mood—with his best friend, M.J. The also handsome, African American M.J. —son of a famous neurosurgeon—ran the place, and together they had plans to rule the late-night club scene. So far, it was working out just fine.
    Bobby enjoyed his life. He had a great apartment, a successful club, and as many women as he could manage. Not that he was into juggling women—he kind of preferred relationships that lasted longer than one night. His mom, Lucky, had a fantastic marriage to Lennie Golden—the one-time comedian/movie star, who now wrote, produced, and directed his own independent movies. The two of them set a fine example. However, Bobby was not looking to settle down; he was too young and restless to stick with one woman for long. That was, until he met Serenity, and almost instantly he decided that staying with one woman was definitely the way to go.
    Serenity was a Slovakian model with cat-like eyes, cut-glass cheekbones, overly full lips, a body that drove men wild, and cascades of wavy auburn hair. Currently a favorite of up-market swimsuit and lingerie catalogues, she was much in demand.
    Bobby introduced himself to her at his club one night. It was drama at first sight.
    He asked her out.
    She turned him down.
    He called her.
    She did not return his calls.
    He sent her flowers.
    She did not acknowledge them.
    Damn! This kind of disinterest never happened to him. So naturally he had to think of a new approach. And he did. He turned up at her apartment early one morning with bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, and an adorable Labradoodle puppy.
    Her roommate, Inga, a six-foot-tall Swedish model, let him in, cooed over the puppy, and ran to fetch Serenity, who finally appeared and accepted his gifts.
    She kept the bagels and the puppy, and a few nights later, agreed to have dinner with him.
    He took her to a small, romantic Italian restaurant in the Village. She didn’t eat much, appeared bored, and spoke very little in a soft, heavily accented drawl.
    After a lot of questions, he found out that she was twenty-two and, much to his surprise and disappointment, married.
    “Is that why you wouldn’t go out with me?” he asked.
    “I am separated,” she offered with a casual wave of her hand. “My husband, he very jealous man.”
    “What does it matter if you’re not with him anymore?” Bobby asked.
    “I do what I want,” she said casually, contradicting her previous statement.
    Bobby’s pursuit of Serenity was long and arduous. The fact that she was so offhand about everything drove him crazy. He was used to women falling all over him. And she didn’t. She was cool, almost businesslike. She didn’t seem to care either way whether she saw him or not. Her attitude attracted him like a magnet.
    Finally, after taking her to dinner five times, she accompanied him back to his apartment and slept with him.
    The sex was hot.
    The aftermath was not.
    “You want to pay my rent?” she inquired, almost as soon as they’d finished making love.
    He was stunned. Was she kidding him? There they were, lying next to each other in bed after incredible sex, and she was asking him if he wanted to pay her rent. It was crazy. She was a successful model, she didn’t need his