Mad About The Man (14 page)

"
So
rr
y, Bart,
"
Rita said with a smile.
"
I won
'
t say another word.
"

"
Sorry, Bart,
"
Jacques murmured under his breath. Why should he expect to understand anything about the people he paid a fortune to work for him?

"
Napoleon Paradise made contact.
"

"
When?
"
Jacques kicked the door shut behind him, his attention riveted on Bart.
"
How?
"

"
This morning. By fax.
"

"
Why the hell didn
'
t you tell me on the phone?
"

"
Because—
"
Rita started to explain.

"
Rita!
"
Bart cut her off.
"
He
'
s coming. That
'
s all that matters.
"

A deep edge of excitement sent Jacques pacing beside lush green and flowering plants that lined the almost totally glass room.
"
When will he be here?
"

"
Sometime next week. They
'
ll contact us with final instructions. You know how it is with Napoleon.
"

"
The man
'
s crazy,
"
Rita said dispassionately.

"
He
'
s also brilliant,
"
Jacques reminded her.
"
He
'
s the one man who can design a theme park the whole world will clamor to visit. If he wants to come here in some sort of hermetically sealed pod—in the dead of night—with a platoon of armed guards, so be it
.
"

"
Bart,
tell
him.
"

"
Okay,
Rita. Let me do this my own way and in my own time.
"

Jacques stopped pacing.
"
Tell me what? Is there going to be some glitch with this? You know how much we
'
ve got riding on the park.
"

Bart had remained standing. Now he approached Jacques, appeared about to say something, but went to examine a particularly lush hanging fern instead.
"
How do you stand being all alone in this place?
"

"
I like my own company.
"
Not strictly true—at least not at the moment.

"
No one with a hom
e this size goes without live-
in staff.
"

"
I go without because
I prefer it that way. All the
help I need, I get.
What did you come here to tell
me?
"

Bart continued to ex
amine plants while Rita swung.

Jacques waited until he couldn
'
t stand the silence
any longer.
"
Let
'
s have it, Bart.
Now.
"

"
Nice fern.
"

"Bart.
"

"
Yeah, well. Okay. Ever heard of a guy by the name of Michael Copeland?
"

Jacques furrowed his brow.
"
Does he work for Napoleon?
"

"
Forget Napoleon,
"
Rita snapped, stilling her
chair by applying a toe to the ground.
"
Napoleon
'
s coming. We don
'
t know exactly when as yet. You
'
ll know as soon as we do. Just get on with it, Bart.
"

"
Copeland
'
s a theatrical costume designer. Works primarily in the movies now.
"

"
Copeland.
"
Jacques shook his head.
"
Copeland
…
yes, yes. Oscar for best costumes about three years ago?
"

"
That
'
s the guy,
"
Bart said.

"
He
'
s Gaby McGregor
'
s husband,
"
Rita added, intent now on the leaden sky that crowded down on the sun room
'
s glass roof.

For seconds Jacques stared at Rita.
"
Her ex-husband, you mean,
"
he said finally.
"
She
'
s divorced.
"

"
Uh-huh,
"
Bart said.
"
Divorced for seven years. One daughter, Mae, seven years old. Seems Mr.
Copeland wasn
'
t keen on the white picket fence and nursery routine. The marriage fell apart while Gaby was pregnant
.
"

Jacques turned away.
"
Creep,
"
he said through his teeth. What kind of man abandoned his wife while she was expecting his child?

"
Evidently that was the opinion of mos
t people who knew them. Apparentl
y Gaby defends Copeland. Says he never wanted kids and she knew it
.
"

"
How do you know all this?
"

"
Her assistant—Char Brown—was in when we stopped by earlier,
"
Rita said.
"
Evidently she
'
s the surrogate grandma figure to the kid. I asked a couple of leading questions about her boss and got what has to be
th
e party line—Gaby doesn
'
t blame her ex for what happened.
"

"
That doesn
'
t alter a damn thing and you know it A man who
is
a man doesn
'
t walk away from a preg
nant wife.
"

An awkward silence followed, broken by the sound of Bart clearing his throat.

"
Copeland
'
s still a big shot in L
.
A
.
, isn
'
t he?
"
Jacques ventured.

"
He sure is,
"
Rita said.
"
Have you heard of a movie musical called
Going to the Dogs?
"

''
Hasn
'
t everyone? It
'
s supposedly going to be next year
'
s big box-office
hit. Is Copeland doing the cos
tumes?
"

After a missed beat, Bart said,
"
Yes.
"

"
God,
"
Jacques said.
"
And while he rolls in glory and bucks, his wife and daughter grub along in a backwater trying to make ends meet on the proceeds from a hat factory!
"

"
Jacques—
"

"
No wonder she didn
'
t fall over herself to accept my offer yesterday—
"

"
Jacques—
"

"
She must have seen me as another man on the make,
"
Jacques said, interrupting Bart.
"
Poor little thing. I stood there making grandiose offers about her becoming the exclusive concession outlet for GFTG souvenirs. She was probably remembering her schmuck of an ex-husband standing at the altar and promising to share everything he had with her, then walking away when she needed him most.
"

"
What do promises at the altar have to do with any of this?
"
Rita asked, leaning forward.

Jacques spread his hands.
"
Well
…
it
'
s subtle. You
'
ve got to be able to make the leap and see it through her eyes. I
'
m going to go and apologize.
"

"
For what?
"
Bart stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"
You aren
'
t responsible for Copeland
'
s behavior.
"

"
I
'
m responsible for not making the effort to find out more about Gaby.
"

"
And how.
"

He looked sharply at Rita.
"
What does that mean?
"

"
Poor little Gaby isn
'
t poor little Gaby.
"

"
Explain that.
"

Frowning with concentration, she wound the chains that supported her chair around and around.

"
Rita?
"

"
I
'
m not surprised she
'
s hesitant to explain,
"
Bart said.
"
If anyone should have known, it
'
s Rita.
"

"
Me?
"
She lifted her toe from the floor and spun wildly.

Bart grabbed the spiraling chair and jerked the whole contraption to a halt
"
You.
"
He tipped her to stand in front of him.
"
Jacques and I don
'
t
wear
hats.
"

"
Neither do I!
"

"
You
'
re a woman.
"

"
So?
"

"
So, women know about those things. You blew it, Rita.
"

"
Hey, hey.
"
Insinuating himself between them, Jacques crossed his arms.
"
Never mind who should have told what. Just
tell me what all this is about—
now—with no more side trips.
"

Rita and Bart looked at each other with raised brows.

"
Gaby is
the
Gaby,
"
Bart said at last.
"
You know,
the
hat Gaby? Milliner to anyone who
is
anyone. A few first ladies, the odd dozen or so female ambassadors or ambassadors
'
wives, those nothing littl
e people at the Academy Awards I think we mentioned—and on, and on.
"

Jacques slowly put Spike down.
"
That
'
s not possible.
"

"
That
'
s what we thought,
"
Rita said.
"
It was Camilla Roberts—by the way, she
'
s still holed up in my trailer. I don
'
t know how much longer I can put her off from coming up here to find you—but Camilla made the connection between Gaby and
the
Gaby.
"

"
For God
'
s sake stop calling her
the
Gaby.
"
A deep, burning agitation made itself felt.
"
She runs a… hat…
"
The agitation caught fire.
"
Finish your story.
Now!
"

Amazingly, Bart put what appeared to be a protective arm around Rita
'
s shoulders.
"
This isn
'
t any more our fault than yours.
"