Lady Boss (55 page)

‘Hey, baby, my pleasure.' He signalled his entourage to leave.

Lucky got up from behind the conference table and walked over to shake hands. ‘The name is Lucky Santangelo,' she said. ‘
Baby
doesn't cut it.'

He took her hand and pulled her towards him. ‘You're a very beautiful lady,' he said in a husky voice. ‘Welcome to my life.'

She removed her hand from his. ‘That's about the corniest line I've ever heard. How many times have you used it?'

He laughed. ‘It usually goes down pretty good.'

‘Not with me.'

‘OK, OK, so you're a beautiful woman and I – Johnny Romano – am coming on to you. Such a terrible thing?'

She decided to ignore the obvious come-on. ‘You know, Johnny, your movie grossed big this weekend.'

‘Sure, baby,' he said confidently.

‘But I think we'll see a substantial drop next weekend.'

He lifted his chin, displaying a great movie-star jawline. ‘What you sayin', baby?'

She didn't hold back. ‘I'm saying
Motherfaker
is a sexist piece of crap.'

Johnny's face darkened. Nobody ever spoke to him like that. ‘Are you crazy, woman?' he glowered.

She shook her head. ‘Not crazy, just giving you some useful advice.'

‘What's that?' he said arrogantly.

‘You
can
take criticism, can't you?'

‘You think I can't?' he countered.

‘Johnny, you're a sensational-looking guy. Everyone loves you. You're macho, handsome, and sexy. But this movie cancels out a huge audience for you. Kids can't see it, old people won't want to. I don't understand it – for some crazy reason you make yourself into an anti-hero. The result is that everyone ends up hating the character you play. And every other word is motherfucker. You wrote the film, Johnny. Surely you have a larger vocabulary than that?'

He glared at her. ‘This movie's gonna make a fuckin' fortune for Panther and
you're
criticizing it?'

‘I'm saying I know you're capable of so much more. And I'd love you to do another movie for Panther. But I'm willing to tear up your contract and let you walk, because I'm not prepared to make another
Motherfaker.
If you're after a lasting career you have to build it, not tear it down. What you're saying to your audience is “Fuck you. I can do what I like and get away with it.” It doesn't work anymore, Johnny.'

‘You're a crazy woman.' He laughed. ‘I can go anywhere in this town an' get any deal I want.'

‘Then maybe that's what you should do,' she said evenly.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this broad insane? ‘OK. OK, lady, if that's what you want, maybe that's what I'll do.'

‘Go ahead,' she said, challenging him. ‘But if you're smart you'll listen to me. Don't make an instant decision. Think it over, and we'll talk next week.'

When Johnny Romano left the room he was not a happy man.

* * *

Venus Maria was Lucky's second appointment.

The blonde superstar breezed into her office with a big grin on her face. ‘This is
really
great,' she said enthusiastically. ‘A woman in charge! My wildest dream come true. Howdja do it?'

Lucky grinned back. ‘I thought it was about time. My plan is to kick a little ass. Are you on for the ride?'

Venus Maria's grin widened. ‘Oh, have you picked the right star here!'

‘I hope so,' Lucky said. ‘I need all the support I can get.'

‘You
know
so,' Venus Maria replied, flopping into a chair and sticking her legs out. She wore cut-off jeans, a Save the World T-shirt, and a long vest covered with pins. Her platinum hair was bunched on top of her head, and on her feet she wore short white socks and Reeboks. ‘I'm rehearsing,' she announced, ‘for my upcoming video. It's gonna be a trip!'

‘I'm delighted you're with Panther,' Lucky said warmly. ‘I know you're committed to do
Bombshell,
and I also know you're not happy with the script.'

‘How do you know that?'

‘Because you told me.'

Venus Maria looked puzzled.
‘I
told you. Have we met before?'

Lucky reached for a cigarette. ‘Oh, yeah, we've met. Only you don't remember, do you?'

‘In New York?'

‘No. Right here at this studio. You bitched to me about the script – and now that I've read it, I couldn't agree more. There's a rewrite in the works. In fact I met with the writer before you came in. He knows what we want.'

‘He does?'

‘Oh yes.'

‘Fast worker.'

‘No point in sitting around. I know the kind of movie you're after.
Bombshell
should be a statement about women and the way they're used. Am I right?'

‘Absolutely.' Venus Maria looked perplexed. ‘I still can't figure out where we met.'

‘Mickey Stolli's secretary.'

‘Huh?'

‘Remember Mickey Stolli's secretary? The one with the pebbled glasses, bad hairstyle, and terrible clothes. You were really sweet to her.'

Venus looked perplexed. ‘Yes, so?'

‘It was me.'

Venus Maria jumped out of her chair. ‘You?' she said in amazement. ‘Oh, come
on
. You've
got
to be kidding. You!'

Lucky burst out laughing. ‘Yes, me. I was in disguise.'

‘No!'

‘Yes!'

‘Wow!'

‘Well, I didn't want to buy the place and not know what was happening, so I worked at the studio for six weeks to find out a thing or two.'

‘And did you?'

Lucky drew on her cigarette and smiled. ‘You could say that.'

‘I bet!'

‘I'm telling you because I feel I can trust you. But I don't want the suits knowing. Perhaps I'll tell 'em. Perhaps I won't. Let 'em wonder how I know so much.'

‘Holy shit!' Venus exclaimed. ‘This is the greatest. I fucking love it!'

‘Anyway,' Lucky continued, ‘the plan is this. We'll get the
Bombshell
script exactly right, and then we're going to make a terrific movie. I've been thinking about directors. How about a female?'

‘I love women directors,' Venus said. ‘Only every time I mention it around here they look at me like I'm a zombie!'

‘It seems to me a woman director is the only way to go. I have several in mind. Have you heard of Montana Grey?'

‘I sure have. She wrote and directed that amazing little movie
Street People
. I think she's great, very talented.'

‘Good. She's coming in to see me tomorrow. As far as I'm concerned she'd be perfect. Are you happy with that?'

‘Happy? I'm ecstatic!'

‘If she likes the idea I'll set up a meeting for all three of us.'

‘Anytime.'

‘And I want to see a screening of
Strut
. I understand there's a rough cut. I'm meeting with Cooper Turner, so I'll discuss that with him.'

Venus Maria nodded. ‘You'll like Cooper, he's a good guy. Don't believe all the stuff you've read about him. Oh –' she added jauntily – ‘and don't believe all the stuff you've read about me either.'

Lucky laughed. ‘I've had a few headlines of my own. Believe me, I understand.'

‘So… how are the
boys
taking your arrival?'

Lucky took a drag of her cigarette. ‘I guess they're not used to having a woman walk in and take over.'

‘No way.'

Lucky blew a smoke ring or two. ‘I always did love a challenge.'

Emilio Sierra had booked a double room at a fancy hotel in Hawaii overlooking the sea. What he and Rita actually got when they arrived was a room overlooking the vast outdoor parking lot. A far from spectacular sight.

‘This is not good enough,' Emilio yelled angrily.

‘It's OK, honey,' Rita soothed. ‘At least we can see the ocean in the distance.'

Dumb broad. Why did he always manage to pick the dumb ones?

‘It's not OK at all,' Emilio fumed. ‘I'm kickin' up a stink.'

He swaggered down to the reception desk and demanded to see the manager.

Ten minutes later the manager appeared, a tall, thin man with a congenial manner and constipated smile. ‘Yes, sir, how may I help you?' he asked.

‘I requested a room with an ocean view,' Emilio said, trying to drag his eyes away from a busty redhead in shorts and a clinging T-shirt as she sashayed on by.

‘You're not happy with your room?' asked the manager, sounding hurt, as if Emilio's complaint was a personal affront.

The redhead swayed out of sight, allowing Emilio to concentrate. ‘No way, man. It stinks.'

‘I'm sure it doesn't stink, Mr…?'

‘Sierra,' Emilio obliged. ‘S-I-E-R-R-A,' he spelled it out. ‘You've no doubt heard of my sister, Venus Maria.'

The manager wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but he looked impressed anyway. ‘Venus Maria?' he said, with just the right note of reverence in his voice. ‘The singer?'

‘And movie star,' Emilio boasted. ‘I'm from Los Angeles. Well, Hollywood really. I'm an actor too.'

The manager nodded. They'd had bigger celebrities than Venus Maria's brother staying at the hotel. Try the President of the United States.

‘Well,' the manager said, ‘right now, Mr. Sierra, we don't seem to have anything else. But I can promise you that as soon as something becomes available, you will be the first to know.'

‘Not satisfactory,' growled Emilio, deciding he loved having money. It gave him a certain amount of power for the first time in his life.

‘It's the best I can do,' said the manager, wishing this uncouth-looking person would elect to stay elsewhere.

‘Get me somethin' else or I'm campin' out in the lobby,' Emilio threatened, continuing to complain until they moved him into a bungalow on the beach. It cost more, but for once Emilio figured he'd go for the big bucks. Now that he had them he might as well live it up. Not that Rita appreciated it. She was hot. She was also stupid.

No sooner were they settled in the bungalow than Rita thought she spotted a sand-mouse running across the floor.

‘Oh my
God!
' she screamed hysterically, jumping on top of the bed. ‘Emilio! Emilio! There's a
mouse!
'

‘So what?' he said, completely unconcerned. ‘It ain't gonna eat you.'

‘I'm frightened,' she squealed, refusing to get off the bed.

Emilio remembered New York back in the good old days when Venus Maria was just a kid and he could boss her around. She'd been frightened of mice too. He and his brothers had caught three one day and stuffed them in her bed under the sheets. When she'd discovered their grisly surprise she'd screamed for an hour. But he had to admit she'd gotten her revenge. Two nights later she'd cooked a thick and juicy stew with what appeared to be chunks of chicken in it. Only it turned out it wasn't chicken. She'd cooked the goddamn mice and served them up for dinner!

Rita was not to be placated, so Emilio had to march back to the manager and complain again.

Finally, probably to get rid of him and his bitching, they were ushered into the suite of his dreams. Two rooms consisting of a luxurious bedroom complete with vibrating bed, and a well-appointed living room leading out to a large terrace overlooking a blanket of white sand and a gorgeous blue ocean. This was more like it – even if it was probably going to cost an arm and two legs.

‘Satisfied?' he said to Rita.

She nodded.

Later he stood on the terrace while she unzipped his jeans and showed him exactly how satisfied she really was.

Sometimes it paid to be extravagant.

The next morning he sent her down to the news-stand instructing her to buy a copy of
Truth and Fact
.

When she brought it back to the room and he read it he was outraged. Where was his story? There wasn't even a picture of him. What kind of deal was this?

In a fury he telephoned Dennis Walla in Los Angeles. ‘Where's my story?' he screamed over the phone. ‘It was supposed to be in this week.'

‘Next week,' Dennis said. ‘Read the blurb.'

‘You told me this week, and you've used the picture I gave you,' said a disgruntled Emilio. ‘Listen, man, I've only gotten paid for one week. This is a swindle.'

‘Hang on a moment, mate,' said Dennis, thinking,
Here we go again
. Why were the relatives of the stars so bloody greedy? ‘You're making plenty of moola outta this. Your story runs when
we
decide to run it. You can't tell
us
what to do.'

Emilio slammed down the phone in a rage. Now it would be awkward returning to L.A. Venus Maria had advance warning his story was going to appear. She'd be furious and would certainly be tracking him.

‘What's the matter, sweetie?' asked Rita, pirouetting in front of the mirror, admiring her short but perfect legs.

‘Nothing.' He wasn't about to confide in her. ‘Come here.'

They made the bed vibrate for ten minutes before going outside to sample the Hawaiian sunshine.

Emilio was disappointed to discover there wasn't much Hawaiian sunshine to sample. It was a cloudy day with strong gusty winds.

He chose two prime positions by the pool and they settled down – Rita in a bikini that attracted the attention of every man within fifty yards.

Emilio was pleased. Maybe she wasn't so stupid after all. He enjoyed being with a woman who scored so much attention.

At lunchtime Rita suggested that perhaps they should go inside. ‘It may be cloudy,' she said wisely, ‘but there's still a real strong sun coming through. You'd better be careful.'