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to go home,' Brigette announced, causing both Lina and Fredo to glare at her.
    'It's much too early,' Lina snapped, shaking her head in an exasperated fashion.
    'It's time for dancin'.' She turned to Fredo. 'I should never 'ave warned 'er about you.'
    'What you mean?' Fredo said, bushy eyebrows shooting up. 'You warn her about me?'
    'Yeah,' Lina said, with a wicked grin. 'I told 'er you're a real fuck-an'-run merchant. That's why you've never got anywhere with 'er.'
    'Thanks,' Fredo said huffily. 'Now I must show her my true personality.'
    'She's seen your true personality all right,' Lina said slyly. 'An', believe me, that's all she wants to see.'
    While Lina and Fredo were bantering back and forth, Brigette took the polite route and leaned towards Carlo. 'Fredo told me you live in London,' she said.
    'That must be interesting.'
    He fixed her with his piercing blue eyes. 'You are very beautiful,' he said in a low voice - so low that neither of the other two heard.
    'Excuse me?' Brigette said, taken aback.
    'I think you understand me,' he said.
    She glanced quickly at Lina. Her friend would not be happy if she thought Carlo was coming on to someone else. 'Well, uh… thanks,' she said, slightly flustered.
    'It's my job to look good in front of the camera.'
    'I'm not talking about your photographs,' Carlo said smoothly.
    For a moment she felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his probing eyes.
    'Well,' she said, lifting her champagne glass and making a big show of including the others, 'I'd like to propose a toast. Here's to Carlo and his fiancee. What a pity she's not here.'
    Lina shot her a deadly look for mentioning that her new object of lust was engaged.
    'What fiancee?' Carlo asked, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
    'Fredo told us you were engaged,' Lina said, shooting Fredo a look that said, Well, is he or isn't he?
    'Me? I think not,' Carlo said, with a fleeting smile. 'It is over.'
    'You didn't mention it was over to me,' Fredo said accusingly.
    'You did not ask,' Carlo replied, freezing him out.
    Lina immediately moved in, snuggling close to Carlo. 'Not engaged, huh?' she said happily. 'Nor am I. That makes us a cosy couple, don't it?'
    Carlo smiled politely, but his eyes remained on Brigette.

Chapter Nine
    'Where the hell are they?' Lucky muttered, pulling on the sleeve of Steven's jacket so she could take a peek at his watch.
    'It's only eight,' Steven said, calm as usual. 'They'll be here in time for your speech.'
    'Yeah, honey,' Gino joined in. 'You gotta learn t' relax. Lookit me.'
    'I guess it's easy when you're eighty-seven,' she murmured drily.
    'My kid,' Gino said, with a wide smile. 'Always with the smart answers.'
    'Wonder where I inherited that from,' she drawled.
    They'd just sat down after a long cocktail hour. Bobby was hovering at the next table, desperately trying to make conversation with the perky young star of a TV
    sitcom as he strutted proudly in his first tux. He was certainly good-looking, with his mother's striking colouring and his deceased father's charisma. Dimitri had been a major charmer.
    Lucky nudged Gino. 'Was that you at fifteen?' she asked, watching her son as he attempted to put a move on the eighteen-year-old sitcom star.
    Gino checked out his grandson and roared with laughter. 'When I was his age,'
    he said. 'I was screwin' my way around the block.'
    And so was I, Lucky wanted to say, but she didn't; Gino wasn't too fond of remembering his daughter in her wild days. He'd married her off at sixteen to curb her out-of-control behaviour.
    Big deal. She'd soon gotten out of that fiasco, and the moment Gino took off for Europe on an extended tax exile, she'd moved back to Vegas and taken over the family business with a vengeance. 'Is that how you got your nickname, Gino the Ram?' she asked innocently, pretending she didn't know he hated that tag from so long ago.
    'I always knew how t' treat a woman,' Gino said indignantly. 'Treat a lady like a whore an' a whore like