The Dream Merchants (43 page)

He looked over at the clock on the night table. It was nearing three o’clock. Maybe Rock had left a note for him in his room. He got up and walked back to Rocco’s room.

The light was still on; he had forgotten to turn it off. He walked into the center of the room and looked around. No note. Acting on impulse, he pulled open a dresser drawer. It was empty. He pulled open the other drawers. They were empty too.

He turned and walked over to the closet and looked in. Rocco’s clothes were gone. He shut the door slowly and walked out of the room thoughtfully. Where had Rock gone and why hadn’t he told him, he wondered.

Rocco couldn’t tell him, he remembered; they hadn’t spoken to each other since they had parted that night in California, and when he had called New York he had had no occasion to speak with him. He lit a cigarette and sat down on the edge of his bed.

It was strange not having Rocco around. The apartment seemed empty without him. It was almost lonely.

Suddenly he brightened up. That was the answer. Of course, Rocco had thought he would return with Dulcie, and that was why he had moved out. Silly of him not to think of it before. It was like Rock to do something like that.

He smiled to himself as he put out the cigarette. He would tell the guy off when he saw him in the morning down at the office. What was the idea of worrying him half to death?

He loosened the straps that held the leg in place and lay down on the bed. He reached over and turned off the light. For a long time he lay there in the dark staring upward in the room. He would miss having Rock around all the time. Dulcie’s face intruded on his thoughts. “Hell, you can’t have everything,” he thought as he drifted off into slumber.

But all the same he slept restlessly. There was a feeling of being alone in the world that haunted him even in his sleep. Strange that Dulcie’s face in his dreams didn’t drive that feeling away.

***

He walked into the office briskly. “Good morning, Janey,” he said, smiling.

She got up from her desk and ran over to him. She held out her hand. “So you went and done it.” She laughed with mock seriousness. “You got away from me, dammit.”

He laughed aloud. He looked pleased as he took her hand. “Is that the way you talk to your boss when he gets married?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment. Her eyes were still laughing as she pretended to look behind him. “Well, the coast seems clear enough,” she said. “I don’t see your wife around. I guess I could kiss you.”

He still held her hand. “I guess you could,” he nodded.

She kissed his lips swiftly and then looked up at him. Her gaze was serious now. “Good luck, Johnny,” she said sincerely. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“I will be,” he said confidently, “I’m a very lucky guy.” He took off his hat and coat, gave them to her, and walked to the door of his office. He looked back at her. “Tell Rock to see me when he comes in,” he said, still smiling. “I got something to tell that guy.”

She nodded as she hung up his coat, and he disappeared into his office.

He sat down at his desk. The mail was spread out before him. He began to look through it. His phone rang. He picked it up.

“Irving Bannon wants to talk to you,” Jane’s voice said.

“Okay,” he answered. “Put him on.” He heard the click of the phone. “Hello, Irv.”

“Johnny, you old son of a bitch, you been holding out on us.” Irving’s voice was effusive.

Johnny smiled into the phone. He supposed he would have to listen to this all day. He might as well get set to expect it. “I wasn’t, Irving,” he said. “It was as much a surprise to me as anybody.”

“Don’t gimme that,” Irving laughed. “But I promise to forget you’re keeping it a secret if you’ll gimme a knockdown to the missus when she comes back to town. I seen some pitchers of her from the studio and she’s a beauty.”

Johnny felt pleased at the flattery. “I’ll do that,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that, Johnny,” Bannon laughed. “Now I can wish you luck, and may all your troubles be little ones.”

Johnny winced at the old wheeze. “Thanks, Irv,” he said. “I’ll tell my wife you called. She’ll be pleased. I told her a lot about you.”

“Wait’ll she hears what I got to tell her about you,” Irving laughed. “Good-by, Johnny, and the very best to you both again.”

“Thanks, Irv. Good-by.” Johnny hung up the phone, smiling. He guessed there must be a great deal of curiosity about Dulcie around the office. When she got back and they settled down, he would have to give a party and have her meet the gang.

He picked up the phone again. “Get me George Pappas,” he told Janey.

He waited. George’s voice came on the phone. “Hallo, Johnny.” It sounded pleased. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, George,” he said.

“When I read in the papers you were married, my brother Nick and me we said: ‘Just like Johnny to get married where his friends can’t make excitement for him,’ so instead we decide to wait till you come back. How it happen?”

Johnny laughed. “Don’t ask me, George,” he replied. “I still can hardly believe it myself. I’m just a lucky guy, I guess.”

“You sure lucky,” George agreed. “Your wife, she’s one beautiful woomans.”

A thrill of pleasure ran through Johnny. Everybody said that. He felt proud of the fact that he had been able to win a woman whom everybody admired. “Thanks again, George,” he said, changing the subject. “I spoke to Peter and I’ve got news for you.”

George chuckled. He was still thinking about Johnny’s sudden marriage. What a pretty girl! She must be nice, too, or Johnny wouldn’t have married her. “What news?” he asked absently.

“Peter doesn’t want to sell the theaters,” Johnny answered.

George was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was businesslike. “Then what he want to do, Johnny?” he asked.

“He would like you to continue the joint operation of the theaters.”

“And if not?” George asked.

“Then he wants to buy your share if the price can be arranged,” Johnny said.

George thought about what Johnny meant by “if the price can be arranged.” Did he mean the price they had paid? That would be foolish. It wouldn’t only be foolish, it would be bad business. The theaters were worth more now than when they had bought them. Peter must know that. “The price can be arranged,” he said cautiously, “based on the present market values, of course.”

“You know they’re inflated,” Johnny said.

“Sure,” George agreed readily. “But that’s what they’re worth today.”

Johnny laughed suddenly. “Look, George, we’re old friends, so we can stop kidding each other and talk honestly. We got a million and a half that we can afford to shell out for your share of stock in those theaters. We’ll pay all the legal expenses in connection with the transfer, and that will leave you a half million to the good.”

George hesitated. The offer was fair enough based on what he had invested, but the properties were worth much more than that right now. Besides, he needed more than that to embark on the theater-building program he contemplated. He had some ideas that would cut the present costs of building theaters almost in half. “Make it a million and three quarters and it’s a deal,” he said.

“Done,” replied Johnny promptly. “I’ll have the lawyers go to work on it immediately.” He felt good. Peter would be pleased that he had been able to save that two hundred and fifty thousand. It was more than he expected.

George was satisfied too. Actually he felt he had got more than the theaters were worth and enough to provide him with a safe margin for his future plans.

They agreed to meet for lunch on the next day and discuss it further; then they hung up.

Johnny pressed the buzzer on his desk, and Jane came in. “Where’s Rock?” he asked.

She looked at him puzzled. “I don’t know,” she answered. She started for the door. “I’ll call Bannon,” she said. “Maybe he stopped in there after parking the car.”

Johnny was bewildered. “Parking the car?” he asked. “What car?”

Jane turned and looked at him. She had a sudden premonition that something was wrong. Maybe it was the look on Johnny’s face. She didn’t know. “Your car. After he dropped you off,” she said, her heart pounding inside her.

“My car?” Johnny’s voice was incredulous. “I came down by cab.”

She could feel the color running out of her face. “Didn’t he bring you down?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No,” Johnny answered. “He wasn’t home when I got there last night. I haven’t seen him since my wedding day, when he left for New York.”

“Left for New York?” Jane’s voice was suddenly weak. Suddenly she knew what had happened. Rocco had quit, just as he said he would. The tears began to come to her eyes. “He hasn’t come in here.” She seemed to stagger slightly.

Johnny sprang from his chair and caught her. Her body was shaking. “Wait a minute,” he said, suddenly realizing that there was a strong emotion affecting her. “What’s going on here?”

She hid her face on his shoulder. “Don’t you know?” she asked without looking up.

He stood there dumbfounded for a moment; then he looked down at her. “You and Rocco?” His voice was filled with surprise.

She nodded her head.

“Well, I’ll be—” he breathed half to himself, not finishing his sentence. What a fool he was! If he had half an eye he would have noticed. Here he was thinking of himself while it had meant a great deal more to her. He looked down again. There was a new sympathy in his voice. “Maybe he decided to take himself a vacation,” he suggested hesitantly. “He hasn’t seemed to—” He stopped abruptly. He had been about to say that Rock hadn’t been too well lately, but that would only make matters worse. Now he didn’t know what to say.

She seemed to gain control over herself. She stepped back. Automatically her hand went to her hair. “I must look a fright,” she said.

In spite of himself Johnny smiled. Trust a woman to worry about her looks at a time like this. He walked over to his desk and took out a bottle and two glasses. “What you need is a drink,” he said.

He filled her glass and handed it to her, then filled his own. “
L’chaim,
” he said, remembering Peter’s drinking toast. It meant “good luck.” She would need it.

She swallowed the drink, and the color began to flow back into her face. “That’s better,” she said.

“All right now?” he asked anxiously.

She nodded her head. She even managed a tight little smile. “I’m okay.”

He smiled back at her. “We’re probably worrying over nothing,” he told her more confidently than he felt. “Rock probably decided to take himself a vacation like I said, and since he didn’t expect me back so soon he didn’t show up.”

She looked at him for a moment, not answering. She began to feel a little sorry for him. He just didn’t understand what had happened. But it wasn’t up to her to tell him; he would have to find out in his own way. The phone rang in her office. “The phone,” she said quickly, and left, closing the door behind her.

Johnny stared thoughtfully after her. He sat down at his desk. He looked at the letters on it. He had to read them, but he didn’t feel like it just now. Rocco should have said something to him about his plans. There was a strange feeling of hurt inside him, an unconscious sense of his own failure. He thought of Jane, the way she looked when she first realized what had happened. She had been frightened.

He looked at the door through which she had gone. Strange thing Rocco had done. It wasn’t like him, either. An anger began to rise in him. It was a hell of a trick for Rocco to pull on him.

A little voice seemed to whisper in his ear just then: “What the hell are you complaining about? Rocco don’t owe you nothing. It’s the other way around.”

He turned his head quickly as if someone were in the office with him. “But what about Jane?” he seemed to ask himself.

“That’s none of your business,” the little voice answered. “It’s Rocco’s and hers. You didn’t worry about it before. You didn’t even notice it!”

“What are you trying to say?” he asked himself.

The phone on his desk began to ring. He picked it up and spoke into it. When he hung up and tried to remember what he had been thinking, he couldn’t. There was only the realization of a dimly understood failure left in him—a feeling that was to persist and grow stronger before the day was over.

13

Tuesday night was always a late night at the office for Jane because it was make-up night for the newsreel and Johnny would go down to Bannon’s office until the reel was finished. They would send out for coffee and sandwiches, and after they had finished eating, it would be around seven o’clock and time for Johnny to go. He would come back to the office about nine o’clock and they would leave. Jane used the time he was out of the office to clean up the various matters on her desk and type the letters that had accumulated during the first two work days of the week. The mail was always the heaviest then.

This Tuesday night, though Johnny had just returned from the studio that morning, was no exception. It was about eight o’clock when she finished her last letter and heaved a sigh. It had been a long day. A strangely disturbing day, and she was very tired. For a moment she thought of going home and leaving a note for Johnny, informing him, but she decided to wait until he came back. He was upset enough about Rock; she didn’t want to disturb him any more than he had been.

The door rattled. She looked up. Maybe they were through early down there. It would be good if they were; she wanted to get home and climb into a hot tub and just lie there and soak out her weariness.

The door opened and Rocco stood there. There was a half-ashamed look on his face, but there was also a new look of contentment and pride mixed with it. He walked into the office silently and closed the door behind him.

Unconsciously her hand went to her breast as she looked at him. Inside her, her heart was singing: “He didn’t go away! He didn’t go away!” She didn’t speak until he was near her desk and then, suddenly, she was in his arms. “Rocco, Rocco, Rocco”; she kept saying his name over and over as if it were a song she was singing.

“Baby,” he said, his hand stroking her hair.