Chances [antikvár]

Wednesday, July 13, 1977 New Yorki'; I 1,1-' i'.'illII.Costa Zennocotti stared at the girl sitting across from him, his ornate carved wood desk separating them. She spoke rapidly, gesticulating wildly, making faces to emphasize a point. Christ! He hated himself for having such thoughts, but she was the most sensual woman he had ever laid eyes on"Costa?" the girl questioned sharply. "Are you listening to me?""Of course. Lucky," he replied quickly, embarrassed because she was only a slip of a girlwhat was she now, twenty-seven or -eight?and yet she was so bright and knowing. She probably knew what he was thinking.Lucky Santangelo. Daughter of his lifelong best friend, Gino.Bitch. Child. Liberated lady. Temptress. Costa knew her as all of those things."So you see"she fumbled in an oversized Gucci bag and produced a pack of cigarettes"no way is it the right time for my father to come back into the country. No way. You must stop him."He shrugged. Sometimes she could be so stupid. How could she expect anyone to stop Gino doing exactly what he wanted? As his daughter, she above all others should know that. After all, Gino and Lucky, they were11 '.rihi'.11,:it!i.i I'J I. ,ím"' . k'jÍTVííj-'i| r