The Lonely Lady (25 page)

Another lesson. I was learning a lot today. Exposure is good because it helps the marketability of other products. Since there was nothing more for me to say, I turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To pack.”

“Wait a minute. What’s the rush?”

“I don’t want you to get nailed,” I said sarcastically.

He made a deprecatory gesture. “I was just a little steamed. Debbie and I have an understanding. She doesn’t expect me to lead a virginal life.”

“Oh, shit,” I said disgustedly.

“God, what a bitch day I had,” he said. “Nothing went right.”

I didn’t answer.

“I’ll make us a couple of Margaritas and we’ll take off our shoes and relax.” He went back to the bar. “Maria’s made arroz con pollo. You never tasted anything so good in your life.”

I still didn’t speak.

He turned on the blender. Its soft hum buzzed through the room. “You don’t know what I went through.”

“It’s not easy.”

He missed the sarcasm. “We’ll have dinner and go right to bed.”

“Will I have time for a bath first?”

“Of course, but that’s a funny question. Why do you ask?”

“I feel dirty,” I said.

He didn’t understand that either.

***

He came into my room about an hour after I had gone to bed. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

“You have another early call in the morning,” I said. “I thought it would be better if you got some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep, I’m too uptight.”

“I’m sorry.”

He came into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just lying here. Thinking.”

“About what?”

“Things. Nothing special.”

“You don’t want to talk, do you?”

I reached for a cigarette and saw in his eyes the reflected light of the match. “Do you?” I asked.

“You’re angry with me.”

“No.”

“What is it then?”

“Things just aren’t right. It’s not going the way I thought it would.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out. We were okay yesterday.”

It was exactly the kind of thing Walter would say. I didn’t answer.

“Yes, I would have had a chance to absorb it. I wouldn’t have been taken by surprise.”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.”

“After all, you are my guest. I brought you out here.”

I was beginning to understand. It made some kind of sense. Not real sense. But crazy sense. It had something to do with property rights. Because he had paid the freight, I belonged to him. He was more like Walter than I had thought.

“Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said in a satisfied voice. He got to his feet. “Now, let’s put it all behind us and go to bed.”

“I am in bed.”

An edge of anger crept into his voice. “I don’t like to be used.”

“I’ll leave you a check for the plane ticket before I go in the morning,” I said, thinking that I’d been more used than he.

“Don’t bother,” he said in a cutting voice. “I’ve given more money to a whore for a one-night stand.”

The door slammed behind him. I fought back the tears, too hurt to be angry. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. Why did it have to be like this?

I didn’t go to Universal in the morning. Instead I took the red eye back to New York that night.

Chapter 13

Harry saw me through the glass partitions that enclosed his office and rose to his feet. He shook his head. “You did it. You really did it.”

“I thought it over,” I said. “I didn’t want the job no matter what they said.”

“You fucked yourself. In only two days you managed to do what would take most people a lifetime to accomplish.” A curious note of wonder entered his voice. “You really fucked yourself.”

“All I did was turn down a job. I even called the studio and left word that I wasn’t coming in.”

“Jesus,” he said. “Universal’s putting out the word that you’re impossible to deal with and then I get a frantic call from Tony Styles that you screwed up his picture.”

“Tony Styles? I never even saw him!”

“He says you fucked up his brother’s head and he had to close down the picture for two days so that John could stay in bed. He says he’s going to cut your part down to nothing even if he has to shoot some of the scenes over with another girl.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What happened between you two?”

“We just didn’t agree, so I left.”

“Jesus,” he repeated. He picked up a sheet of paper. “This memo got here just before you did. George wants to see me about you.”

“If George wants to talk to me all he has to do is say so.”

“You don’t understand. You’re not his direct responsibility anymore. You’re mine. He tells me whatever he wants to do or say and I tell you.”

“What does that mean?”

“George doesn’t like to make waves,” he said. “George is Mr. Nice Guy with everybody—Universal, Styles, your ex, even God himself.”

“So?”

“So we’re in trouble. George must have picked up some of the flap and he doesn’t want anybody mad at the agency.”

“Does that mean he’s going to drop me?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But if you have any friends he will listen to, now is the time to get to them.”

“But we have a contract.”

“Read the fine print. They can drop you anytime they want.”

I was silent.

“Your ex. Would he put in a good word for you?”

“I don’t want to go to him,” I said. “It took me too long to get out from under.”

“Any other friends?”

I thought for a moment. “Guy Jackson?”

He shook his head. “George hates him. He signed with another agency after George broke his ass to get him.”

“Then there’s nobody.”

Slowly he got to his feet. “I might as well get it over with.”

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“What the hell.” He shrugged. “Might as well get it hot from the oven.”

By the time he got back half an hour later I had gone through the rest of my package of cigarettes and was beginning to work on his. He closed the door, went behind his desk and collapsed in his chair. “Jesus,” he said. It seemed to be his favorite remark of the day.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s have it.”

“They’re dropping your acting contract but they’re keeping you for writing even though I tried to get him to drop that one too.”

“I thought you were my friend,” I said sarcastically. “Half a loaf is better than none.”

“You got a lot to learn. If they let you out of the writing contract, you would have a lever to get another agent. You have the play, which could bring him some income. But this way we keep all the money and you got no muscle.”

I stared at him. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“I’ll go up and see him.”

“It won’t do any good. You’ll never get past his secretary. George has that down to a fine art.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Only one thing I can think of, but you won’t like that either.”

“What’s that?”

“Eat humble pie,” he said. “Call Chad Taylor out at Universal. Tell him it was that time of the month or something female like that and that you thought it over and decided you would do it. I happen to know they haven’t cast that part yet.”

“You’re sure?”

“Sure as I’m sitting here.”

“Is that your idea or is that what George told you to tell me?”

I could see the flush creep over his face. “George’s.”

“And if I don’t do that, I’m finished here?”

He nodded silently.

I felt trapped. They were playing a game and all of them were on the same team. There was no way I could win. “Okay,” I said finally. “Get him on the phone for me.”

I was a better actress than I thought. I not only ate humble pie, I rubbed my face in it. And all the way to the Coast on the plane that evening I had a sick feeling in my stomach to prove it.

***

They had a car to pick me up at the airport and take me to the hotel. Even before I’d got my baggage the driver gave me a note from Taylor.

Short and to the point. There was no mistaking who was in charge. By now it didn’t matter. I was so tired all I wanted to do was to get into bed and sleep.

The driver took me to a hotel-motel called the Regency on Hollywood Boulevard between Fairfax and Laurel Canyon. I had a small two-room suite on the second floor overlooking the pool.

“We put lots of New York people out here,” the driver explained. “There’s a short cut to the studio over Laurel Canyon.”

I thanked him as he placed my luggage on a small rack. As soon as he left I took off my clothes and closed the drapes to the sun. Then I turned down the big king-sized bed and called the operator to leave a wakeup call for seven forty-five.

I was just drifting off when the telephone rang. It was Chad Taylor. “Everything all right?”

“Perfect.”

“Good.” He sounded pleased. “Dress up tonight. There’ll be some important press people there.”

“Okay.”

“See you about eight thirty.” He rang off.

I turned over and closed my eyes when the telephone rang again. I reached for it wearily. “Hello.”

“JeriLee? This is John.” There was no sign of anger in his voice. It was as if nothing had happened.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you came to your senses. I was beginning to worry about you.”

“I’m okay.”

“I thought we might have dinner. I remembered you liked the steaks on Sunday.”

“I have a date. Mr. Taylor is bringing the script over this evening.”

“What are you doing afterwards?”

“Going to sleep. I’m wiped out.” Flying back and forth across the country wasn’t my idea of fun.

“I have to see you, even if it’s just for a minute.”

“We’re going to Chasen’s. He said there will be press there. I don’t know what time I’ll get back here.”

“We have to get some things straightened out.”

“It’ll keep until tomorrow. If I don’t get some rest, I’ll die.”

“Okay,” he said finally. “Meanwhile is there anything I can do for you?”

“No.” Then I changed my mind. “Yes, there is one thing. Tell your brother to stop bad-mouthing me all over the country.”

I put down the phone but by that time I was too keyed up for sleep. I popped a Librium and waited for it to slow me down. Meanwhile I ran the tub and got into it. I felt the lassitude come back. Quickly I dried myself and jumped back into bed. This time I slept. But not for long. In less than an hour the telephone rang with my wakeup call.

In a fog, I popped a red and stood under an ice cold shower. Then I began the slow job of getting myself together.

***

The doorbell rang at exactly eight thirty. I opened the door in a robe. “Come in, Mr. Taylor. I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

“I brought the script with me.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, heading back to the bedroom.

He followed me to the door. “My flowers get here yet?”

“I haven’t seen them.”

“They should have been here when you arrived. Damn secretary. Mind if I use your phone?”

“Help yourself.”

He disappeared back into the living room while I went into the bathroom. I put on two pair of false eyelashes, penciled in the liner quickly and checked the mirror. Not bad for a quick job.

He was standing in the doorway when I returned to the bedroom. “She says she ordered them.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll get here. Thanks anyway.”

“Nobody does anything right these days. You gotta keep on their ass.” He didn’t move from the doorway and something told me he was not about to. I opened the closet door and stood behind it while I slipped into my dress. It was the long black silk that clung to my body. When I came out from behind the door he gave a long low whistle.

“Not bad.”

“I feel a mess.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Thanks.” I pulled the white angora stole from my bag and put it around my shoulders. “I’m ready now.”

He looked at me critically.

“Anything wrong?” I asked.

“Do you have a fur?”

“I have, but I like the look of the white angora with the black silk.”

“Wear the fur. This is Chasen’s.”

I stared at him for a minute, then took off the stole and put on the short chinchilla jacket.

“That’s better,” he said. “Class.”

I noticed the script on the table in front of the couch as we went to the door.

“Do you want to take it with us?” I asked. “We can discuss it during dinner.”

He shook his head. “Too many people there. We’ll go over it when we get back.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer. “The car’s right in front.”

“How do you like it?” he asked as he opened the door for me.

“Beautiful.”

He smiled. “It’s a classic. A fifty-five Bentley Continental convertible. They only made fifteen like this. There are only five that are still in use. This is one of them.”

“It’s really something,” I said.

It was Tuesday night and Chasen’s was jumping. But we had a large table near the door where everyone coming in or leaving could see us. I noticed there were only two places set.

“I sort of expected other people from what you said,” I said as I sat down.

“The restaurant is loaded,” he said. “No place to talk shop. People will be stopping by. You’ll see.”

He was right about that. He couldn’t have displayed me any better if he had put me in Macy’s window.

“Deviled ribs is the best thing on the menu. But since they always run out I ordered some in advance, along with a side dish of chili. How does that sound?”

“Good to me,” I said. By that time I would have eaten the tablecloth.

He signaled the waiter. First we had the cracked Dungeness crab with the mustard and tomato side sauces, then the ribs. Between the wines and the red I had popped my head was spinning. Somehow I managed to keep my conversation halfway intelligible, but it probably wouldn’t have made any difference if I had gone totally dumb. He never stopped talking about his career and the fact that Universal would never have made it without him.