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ex-wife, a child, and he was twenty-three years older than her, a fact that seemed to bother no one except her.
    When she’d voiced doubts to her mother, Nancy had raised an elegant eyebrow and said, ‘You couldn’t make a better match, dear. At least we know he’s not a fortune-hunter. He’s an extremely eligible bachelor, and you ’ve got him. Isn’t that nice?’ It would be so great if her mother was the kind of woman she could actually talk to. But no–Nancy wasn’t that person. Nancy Scott-Simon was controlling and critical, and an expert at pressing all of Amy’s buttons.
    So that was that. One wedding coming up.

Chapter Four
     
    A rriving back in New York, Jett was hit with a strong wave of nostalgia. New York, with all its frenetic activity and dirty sidewalks, was home: he’d grown up in the city, screwed up in the city, experienced many things–good and bad. Riding in a cab over the bridge, he realized how much he’d missed it, even though he’d left under a black cloud. Two arrests for drunk driving, an ex-girlfriend who’d called the cops on him because he’d given her a black eye–which she’d deserved, although he’d never have done it if he hadn’t been stoned out of his head; a bad drug problem; a fight over money with his mom’s then current boyfriend–an amateur boxer who’d beaten the crap out of him; and finally a vicious argument with Edie, his emotionally unbalanced mother.
    Lady Jane Bentley had sent him a ticket but she hadn’t mentioned where he was supposed to stay, so before he’d left Milan he’d called Sam Lucas, a black actor friend of his, and asked if he could sleep on his couch for a few days.
    ‘You can have the whole place,’ Sam had told him. ‘I got a TV gig in L.A., so I need someone to bring in my mail an’ water my plants. Make it yours, bro’.’
    ‘That’s great,’ Jett had said, psyched that he didn’t have to waste money on a hotel.
    Although his modelling assignments paid quite well, he wasn’t as flush as he’d have liked to be. Living with Gianna was expensive–she enjoyed hanging out at all the hottest restaurants and happening clubs, and there was no way he was letting her pay. As it was, she paid the rent and picked up all of their living expenses. He’d offered to contribute, but Gianna was having none of it. She was a highly paid supermodel and a bit of a control freak. Sexy too. What more could any guy ask?
    Sam was a good friend who’d basically saved his life by staging an intervention and putting him on a plane to Italy, making sure that when he’d stepped off the plane there were people to meet him and get him into rehab. He owed Sam plenty, and one day, when the old man dropped, he hoped to be able to repay him big-time. Because who else did Red Diamond have to leave his billions to except his three sons? The old man was too tight to leave it to charity. And since Red Diamond considered all women inferior beings, Lady Jane stood no chance.
    Not that Jett was desperate to inherit his part of the Diamond fortune. But he knew it was inevitable that one day he was destined to be very rich indeed. And who was he to fight it?
    Hell, if he tried hard enough he might even learn to embrace it.
     
     
    When it came to business, Max Diamond was obsessive. He arose every day at five a.m., worked out with his trainer until six-thirty, then read all the newspapers, checked out the stock market, and made numerous phone calls. He was at his desk by seven-thirty, alert and ready to handle anything.
    Running a real-estate empire took time and smarts. There were always problems, crises to fix, things to be dealt with. He could’ve delegated more than he did, but he believed in being hands-on–it was imperative that he was available twenty-four hours a day. Especially now he was in the middle of a crisis with the banks. It was not a healthy situation, yet he felt quite confident that he could solve it. The Japanese were likely to jump in and