Free The Santangelos by Jackie Collins

met you.”
    “You remember, huh?” she said with a soft smile.
    “How could I ever forget? There I was, this lowly stand-up comedian working the lounge in your hotel—only I didn’t know it was your hotel—and you invited me up to your suite an’ tried to take advantage of me—”
    “Oh, please ,” Lucky interrupted. “If I remember clearly, nobody was taking advantage of anyone. All I wanted was to get laid and you didn’t.”
    “C’mon, Lucky,” he said with a lazy grin. “You wouldn’t even give me your name.”
    “How sad,” she teased. “No name, no hard-on.”
    “Then when I wouldn’t do it, you had me fired.”
    “I did?” she said innocently.
    “Oh yeah, that was a really classy move. Why’d you do that?”
    “Because I could,” she said, her fingers still moving downward.
    “Jesus, Lucky, you had balls of fire.”
    “I still do.”
    “Yeah, and if you ever fucked around on me I’d cut ’em off.”
    “Technically speaking, Lennie, you’re the one with balls. So exactly who would be doing the cutting?”
    “I’m not risking it.”
    “You’d better not.”
    Her hand reached its destination, and she began slowly caressing him. Naturally, he rose to the occasion; there wasn’t a time when he didn’t.
    Once more they made love, this time at a more leisurely pace.
    Later, Lennie barbecued steaks out by the pool, while Lucky fixed them strong margaritas. After they finished eating, they sat on loungers facing the ocean.
    “This is my favorite kind of evening,” Lennie said. “You and me—no housekeepers, no kids.”
    “Mine too,” Lucky agreed.
    “I love our kids, only I gotta say that being alone with you is the best.”
    “I know exactly what you mean,” she said, sipping her margarita.
    “Talking of kids,” he added, “you spoken to Max lately?”
    “Not in the last few days. She seems to be having a good time with all her new friends in London.”
    “Not too good, I hope. Not like you when you were her age.”
    “Oh yeah, eighteen was a really fun time,” Lucky said drily. “There I was, trapped in Washington with Craven Richmond, the dullest, most boring husband in the world, and his desperately ambitious political family. Those were the days.”
    “With a dozen lovers on the side, right?”
    “Hey, what else was I going to do?” she said, laughing. “Play tennis?”
    “Just as well you didn’t. You’d have ripped the ass off any opponent.”
    “So eloquent.”
    “That’s ’cause I’m a writer.”
    “Really?” she said, playing with him. “I thought you were a stand-up comedian.”
    “That was way back, babe, when you were sleeping with anything that moved.”
    “Oh, and I suppose you weren’t?”
    That irresistible grin appeared again. “I had my moments.”
    “Yeah, don’t I know it. More girls than hot dinners.”
    “That, my crazy beautiful wife, is why neither of us is looking to get out of our marriage. We can truthfully say, ‘Been there, done that.’”
    Lucky got up to refill her glass. “I spoke to Gino earlier,” she said. “I’ve persuaded him to come to Vegas next weekend. I want to get him up to speed on my latest project. Can you make it? It would be so great if we were all there together.”
    “I’m gonna try.”
    “Like I said to Gino, don’t try—do it,” she said, sitting down again.
    “We’re in post, which means I might have to stay in L.A. Besides, wouldn’t it be kinda nice for you and Gino to have some alone time?”
    “You do know that Gino isn’t getting any younger,” she pointed out. “We have to take advantage of every moment.”
    “Trust me, Gino Santangelo will outlive us all,” Lennie assured her with a husky laugh. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere, babe. Gino is a raging fucking bull.”
    “That he is,” Lucky agreed, once more thinking about her father and their turbulent history. So much hate. So much love. They’d been reconciled for years now, and she loved him with all her heart,