The Love Machine (72 page)

Cliff smiled. “Gregory, all I want is a written report. We’re bound to unearth plenty. Then we present it to Robin. He won’t want scandal either. He’s got family—a sister who’s a big socialite in San Francisco—and he’s bright enough to know any open scandal would finish him in the business. That’s when we tell him
we’re putting in someone to ‘help’ him. We’ll divide the power. You’ll create another new title. Let Robin remain as President of IBC. We’ll get Dan Miller back. Then the power will be divided and
you
will make all final decisions.”

Gregory nodded. “I’d like Dan Miller back. I can control him. But will he accept Robin’s having equal power? That’s what made him walk out before.”

“No, he walked because Robin had power
over
him.”

“And suppose Robin walks—right to another network?” Gregory asked.

“He won’t be able to, not if we have the kind of written report I think we’ll have.”

“Well, we can’t make any move until we get such a report,” Gregory said.

“We’ll get
something
. If not on this trip, then on the next one. Maybe even in New York. I’ve hired a good outfit, they have men in every city. Meanwhile, we just have to be patient.”

Gregory nodded. Then he began to plan how to break the news to Judith that they’d be flying on a commercial airliner to the Coast. Oddly enough, she took it well. “I hate that bloody plane. Sell it.”

Robin landed in Los Angeles late Sunday afternoon. A stack of messages was waiting for him at the hotel. Agents, stars and affiliate station managers had called. Everyone had sent liquor—his suite looked like a well-stocked bar. He ruffled through the messages: one was a note from Sergio.

He poured himself a shot of vodka. The Polo Lounge would be crawling with IBC personnel, let alone the goddam stockholders. It was the one place he had to avoid. He called Sergio.

“Robin, I am sending you a check next month for all the ‘allowances’ you sent me. I have just signed a great contract with Century Pictures.”

“Forget the money, you’ll only screw up my taxes. You were a good friend to me when I needed one, and I knew that the money on the sale of Kitty’s estate wouldn’t last forever.”

“The government took so much,” Sergio said mournfully. Then his mood changed.

“Robin, tonight Alfie is throwing a big party. It starts at eight. Please come.”

“I don’t make those scenes.”

“It’s not that kind of a party. Everyone will be there.” Sergio laughed. “Good Lord, Robin, I’m just making it now—I couldn’t afford a drag party. And I have a morals clause in my contract. So has Alfie.”

“I don’t mean that, in fact it never occurred to me. I mean I don’t make the Hollywood scene. Sorry, chum. You’ll have to celebrate without me. By the way, are you shacking up with Alfie?”

“No, he has a small house. I live at the Melton Towers. Eventually perhaps we will buy a house together. It is my dream.”

“Melton Towers. I know a girl who lives there—Maggie Stewart.”

“Oh yes. We see one another in the elevator. She is very beautiful.”

When Robin hung up he called the Melton Towers. Maggie answered on the first ring.

“Oh it’s Superman and his Flying Couch. I read in the trades that you were due in town.”

“Maggie, I want to see you.”

“I just finished taping a game show. Three today, two more tomorrow. I bring five different sets of clothes and kill myself trying to be bright, perky and above all sparkling with daytime personality. I tell you there’s nothing like a daytime personality to kill a girl’s morale.”

“I want to see you,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why are you rattling on about taping shows and all that crap?”

“Because I’m insane. Know why? Because I
want
to see you. That means I
have
to be crazy—like asking for punishment.”

“Do you want to come here? We’ll order room service. Or how about Matteo’s?”

“You come here,” she said slowly. “I’ve taken off my face, my hair is limp. I have some franks in the freezer and I make a wild can of baked beans.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“Cool it for an hour. I want to take a shower and look halfway presentable.”

He poured himself a vodka, switched on television and wondered if Gregory Austin had arrived. Perhaps he should call. Then he shrugged. The hell with it—he’d see him at the board of directors meeting on Tuesday.

Gregory sat in the large living room of bungalow eight at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Ordinarily he would have preferred the Bel Air. It was off the beaten track and he wouldn’t run into all the network personnel. Like tonight—it was six o’clock, but his watch told him it was nine o’clock, New York time. He was beat, but Clint Murdock had just phoned. Clint was a retired general and a very important cog on the board of directors.
Mrs
. Murdock had seen them checking in—would they have dinner in the hotel dining room tonight? He had no choice … the general was too important to snub. Well, it would be a quick dinner. With luck he’d be back in the bungalow before midnight. He yawned. Maybe he’d have time for a short nap… . They weren’t meeting the general until eight. He’d better tell Judith. Mrs. Murdock was a bore, but at least Judith could wear one of her new dresses. Maybe they’d even stop off at the Polo Lounge for a drink. And from tomorrow night on, they were booked for a party every night. Cully and Hayes had earned their thousand a week. He hoped it would make Judith happy.

She came into the living room. “I don’t know what to do. The valet is closed.”

“They’ll open early enough tomorrow,” he said.

She smiled. “Well, I’ll just have to wear the gold lame pajamas tonight. They’re the only things that didn’t crush.”

“Tonight?”

She waved an invitation. “This was here when we arrived. Alfie Knight is throwing a big party—everyone will be there.”

“Judith, starting tomorrow we have parties every night. But tonight I made a dinner date with General Murdock and his wife.”

“General
Murdoch
? I wouldn’t want to have dinner with them if I had
Nothing
to do—let alone turn down Alfie Knight’s party for them!”

He rose from his chair and tried to put his arm around her. “Judith, I
need
him. Murdock can help me with the board.”

Her face went ugly with scorn. “Sure. We’ll sit for hours and I’ll have to make idiotic small talk with Mrs. Murdock, while you listen to the general’s latest story about his fishing. Do you think Robin Stone would grovel like that? He’ll be at Alfie Knight’s party!
Everyone
will be there!” She broke from him and dashed into the bedroom.

He felt panic as he saw her head for the bathroom. “Judith, what are you doing?”

She held his bottle of sleeping pills. “I’m going to take two! I refuse to sit and listen to those dreary people. At least if I’m asleep I won’t be miserable about missing one of the best parties in town.”

He grabbed the bottle. “I can’t break the date with the general. But if the party means so much to you, you go. I’ll invent some story for the Murdocks.”

“I can’t walk in to a party like that unescorted.” She reached for the bottle. “Let me take the pills,
please
, Greg. I just can’t face an endless dinner with those people.”

“No, I’ll get someone to escort you.” He suddenly turned to her. “Perhaps Robin Stone will take you.”

Her face was expressionless. “I’m sure he has a date.”

“He can still escort you, even with a date.” He went to the phone. He hated to ask Robin for a favor—then he thought of Judith. Dammit, he wasn’t going to have her taking to her bed.

When Robin came to the phone, Gregory plunged right in. “Robin, there’s a party tonight at some movie star’s home—Alfie Knight, I believe. Yes, well, Mrs. Austin has been invited and feels it might be amusing. She hasn’t attended one of these Hollywood bashes for a long time. Unfortunately, I have a dinner engagement with some of the board of directors and I would consider it an enormous favor if you’d escort her.”

Judith watched Gregory’s face for some sign. The silence was ominous—she could tell that Robin was refusing… .

“I feel the same way,” Gregory answered, “but it would be a personal favor to me. Oh, I see. Well, look, Robin, can’t you still keep your dinner appointment and take Mrs. Austin to the party? I doubt whether those things get going much before nine or ten. I really would appreciate it… .”

“Oh for God’s sake, stop begging!” Judith shouted. She rushed over and grabbed the phone. “Robin, this is Judith—forget it! It was Gregory’s idea, not mine.”

“Do you really want to go, Judith?” he asked.

“I thought it might be fun. And I think I need a bit of excitement. But I don’t want to force you to go.”

“I hate Hollywood parties. But look, Judith, will it be all right with you if we make it late—say ten o’clock?”

“Ten would be marvelous. That would give me a chance for a quick nap.”

“Fine. I’ll ring you from the lobby.”

She hung up and tried to hide her happiness. He hadn’t wanted to go, but he was doing it for her. That meant he still felt something. She had given him every chance to get out of it. And he probably had a date with a girl and was breaking away just to be with her. She walked over to Gregory and kissed him lightly. “Your poor hired help, they still jump to your bidding.”

He felt relieved to see her happy again. “No, he wasn’t jumping—not for me anyway. You were the one he melted for. But then, you’ve always had that power, Judith.”

She was so happy that she wanted to be kind to everyone. “Are you sure you don’t mind my skipping dinner with the Mur-docks?”

“Of course not. I’ll tell them the trip knocked you out. And they’ll never know you went to Alfie’s party. It’s a cinch
they’re
not invited.”

She kissed his head. “I’m going to cream my face and take a long warm bath. Then a little nap—wake me when you leave.”

She sang as she ran the bath water. She was going to see Robin again. And she felt he wanted to see her too. Of course he did. She had scared him off with that marriage talk. Well, she’d let him understand that from now on, it would be on his terms. No more ultimatums. She’d see him every night this week—they were
bound to be invited to the same parties. And when they got back to New York they’d go to the Steak Place and … Oh Lord, it was wonderful to be alive!

Robin rented a car and drove to Maggie’s apartment. It was almost seven o’clock. This was a hell of a mess, but Judith had sounded so desperate. He had stopped it cold after that marriage talk, and had assumed she had someone else by now. But that false surge of pride in her voice when she had told him he didn’t have to take her—it had been a cry for help. He hadn’t the heart to refuse.

He thought about it as he drove down Sunset Boulevard. He wondered why he felt compassion for Judith. He didn’t feel anything for anyone. Except Maggie—hell, he
wanted
Maggie! It was a physical drive. As simple as that. Also he admired her spunk. She hit back at him. She was a challenge, not limp and sad-eyed like Amanda. Maggie was a fighter—his kind of girl. But Judith—what the hell did he owe to
her
? Why had he cut short his evening with Maggie? It bothered him. He pushed it from his mind as he eased the car into a small parking spot near the Melton Towers.

Maggie looked tired, but hauntingly beautiful. He noticed the purplish circles under her eyes. She was too thin, but for some reason she was more desirable to him than ever.

They ate on the coffee table. And when they finished he helped her with the dishes. Then with almost a shy smile she led him into the bedroom. He was amazed at the way she somehow brought out all the tenderness in him … and later when he held her in his arms he felt completely fulfilled for the first time in ages. God, if they could just find some kind of workable truce. He knew he wanted her with him, but he couldn’t ask her just to live with him. He lay there stroking her hair, and for the first time he wondered about marriage. It might work—that is, if she could let him be free to take off whenever he wanted. Oddly enough he couldn’t think of anyone he would
want
to take off with. Jesus, very shortly he’d have to take off and escort Judith to that damn party. He stole a look at his watch. Eight forty-five—he still had time.

“Maggie …”

“Mmm?” She stirred, and nuzzled her face into his neck.

“Have you any plans for your career? I mean aside from the game show?”

“Alfie Knight has a picture I want to do.”

“My offer to star in a new television series still holds.”

“I’d rather do the picture.”

“Have you done anything about it?” he asked.

She stretched across him and reached for a cigarette on the night table. “I wrote Alfie a note, and Hy’s been on his neck. He said he’d use me if he didn’t get a jumbo. I hear he wants Elizabeth Taylor. I don’t think I have much of a chance.”