‘Grandfather,’ Primrose said, the voice of reason, ‘we have to sit down and talk privately. Not in front of all these people.’
‘I feel like I’m at my own funeral,’ Abe cackled, enjoying every minute. ‘What? You think I’m dead already? I can do what I want with my money. It’s not your money. It’s my money.’
Lucky spoke at last. ‘Gentlemen, there’ll be a meeting of all department heads at noon today. Right here.’
‘What do you know about the movie business?’ Mickey asked rudely, turning to glare at her.
‘Let’s just say as much as you,’ she replied coolly.
He recognized something in her voice. Had he met her before? Lucky Santangelo. Lucky Santangelo… Christ! Wasn’t she the broad with the gangster father? Wasn’t she the one married to Lennie Golden?
Of course! Now it began to make sense. Her husband got pissed off with the studio and the broad bought it to keep him happy. Son of a bitch!
He couldn’t look at Abigaile. His dear wife wasn’t speaking to him on account of the story of his arrest making the front page of the L.A. Times. When Abigaile had seen it she’d turned into a hysterical shrew. ‘Out of this house,’ she’d screamed. ‘Out of my life. I’ll sue you for every penny you’ve got. How dare you disgrace me and Tabitha! This is the biggest humiliation of my life.’
‘It was a mistake,’ he’d replied lamely. ‘I was visiting the place with a director. The guy was researching a movie. I told him a scene he wanted to shoot wouldn’t work. He took me up there to prove it would. It was business, Abby.’
‘Mickey Stolli, you’ve lied to me for the last time,’ Abigaile had shouted, narrowing her eyes. ‘We’ll meet with my grandfather and behave like human beings. And then you’ll pack your bags and get out of my house. We’re through.’
He wondered how she felt now. Abigaile wasn’t going to continue to ignore him after this little shocker. He shot her a look.
She was destroyed.
He glanced over at Ben and Primrose. Ben was foaming at the mouth, and Primrose seemed about to burst into tears.
Abe was loving every minute of the confusion he’d caused. Crafty little shithead.
Mickey stood up. He didn’t have to take this crap. He’d made Panther the success it was today – he could get a job anywhere in town.
‘I resign,’ he said sharply. ‘Find yourself another schmuck.’
Chapter 64
Venus Maria slept in the nude. When she was a little girl she’d read an article about Marilyn Monroe.
What do you wear in bed, Miss Monroe?
Chanel Number Five.
Venus Maria wore nothing except her favourite scent, Poison, and a delicate tattoo of two white doves on the inside of her left thigh – souvenir of a two-day visit to Bangkok.
She awoke early, stretched languidly, and reached out for Martin.
He was not there.
She jumped out of bed and checked the bathroom. No note. No nothing.
Who the hell did he think he was dealing with here? Some Hollywood bimbo he could visit when he came into town, bang, and then take off? No way. She was Venus Maria. She deserved better than this. God damn it! Martin Swanson had to be taught a lesson.
Jumping under a cold shower she thought things over.
Martin Swanson… Martin Swanson… Why this obsession? What was wrong with her, for God’s sake? He was just another man, after all.
Once out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a terry-cloth robe and vigorously shook out her wet hair. Today she was supposed to rehearse for the video. She loved it when she had nothing else to do except rehearse. It meant she didn’t have to bother with makeup and putting on the Venus Maria persona. She could just be herself, bundle her hair into a ponytail, wear exercise clothes, and relax.
Ron made sure it was hard work – but he also made it fun. Long ago she’d decided she was a Gypsy at heart. Her work was everything, the recognition an added bonus.
She decided Martin Swanson wasn’t going to spoil her day. Screw him.
Downstairs, Hannah, her housekeeper, greeted her with the usual large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and a dish filled with chopped apples, melon, bananas, and oranges, covered with a healthful sprinkling of bran.
‘Good morning,’ Venus sang out, feeling surprisingly good in spite of mediocre sex and Martin’s early exit. ‘How was your weekend?’
Hannah didn’t mention that her two days of rest were nonstop drudgery while she caught up on household chores in her two-room apartment downtown. With four children and a husband to look after it wasn’t easy. ‘Fine, Miss Venus,’ she said, clearing up the dishes.
After the juice and fruit, Venus Maria indulged in a couple of pieces of toast liberally spread with chunky English marmalade.
Just as she was in the middle of the second piece, Ron arrived.
She looked up, pleased to see him. ‘What are you doing here? Aren’t we supposed to meet at rehearsal in an hour?’
He carried a magazine which he placed carefully on the table. ‘I thought you should hear it from me first,’ he announced dramatically. Ron always liked to make the most of everything.
‘Hear what?’ she asked brightly.
His voice rose. ‘You mean nobody’s told you? You haven’t seen it?’
‘What are you talking about?’
He was making a three-course meal out of this one. ‘Remember I warned you about Emilio when you chucked him out?’
She had a nasty feeling she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. ‘Yes?’ she said slowly.
Ron picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. ‘I never trusted him.’
‘Ha!’ she said. ‘You think I trusted him? He broke into my house on Saturday.’
‘Yeah? I wonder what he was after? Take a look at this.’ He picked up the copy of Truth and Fact and waved it in front of her face.
She stared at it in horror. There, on the front page, was a photograph of her with Martin. It was her photograph – the two of them together taken by Cooper.
‘Oh, no!’ she cried.
‘Oh, yes!’ stated Ron firmly. ‘He probably dropped by to rip off the photo. Where did you keep it?’
She jumped up. ‘In my safe.’
He sighed. ‘Let’s go check it out.’
‘I can’t believe he’d do this to me,’ she said angrily. ‘I’m paying his goddamn rent. I let him stay here for months! Ron, oh, God! Look what it says – Next week Venus Maria’s brother is going to reveal all. What the hell is all?’
‘When you’re famous you can’t even take a crap in peace,’ Ron said succinctly.
Venus headed upstairs, with Ron close behind her.
She stormed over to her safe, opened it, and searched frantically for her picture.
It wasn’t there.
‘He stole it!’ she yelled. ‘That lousy, low-life rat-faced piece of shit!’
‘Don’t hold back,’ encouraged Ron.
‘Oh my God,’ she wailed. ‘What does the story say? Martin’s going to have a fit. Oh, Jesus!’
‘It’s not such a bad thing,’ Ron said, trying to calm her. ‘At least Deena will know you exist now. You won’t have to creep around in hiding every time you get together with Martin.’
Venus Maria snatched the magazine from him, eyes racing over the story:
Billionaire Martin Swanson’s phone calls and secret visits to ravishing superstar Venus Maria are driving his beautiful society wife, Deena, into the arms of young Paul Webster, son of Deena’s best friend, interior designer to the rich and famous, Effie Webster. Sexy superstar Venus Maria can teach billionaire tycoon Martin Swanson a thing or two about getting to the top. Heartbroken Deena moved in on Paul after hearing about her husband’s fascination with video superstar Venus Maria. Deena is making a last-ditch effort to get Martin back. In the meantime, Martin Swanson has been showering Venus Maria with gifts. According to a close friend, Venus Maria and Martin Swanson met casually at a part
y in New York several months ago. But after a chance second meeting in Los Angeles, they couldn’t resist each other any longer. All of Venus Maria’s close friends were soon telling Swanson, ‘She likes you, she wants you.’ Within a week the two got together at a hideaway in Big Sur. According to another close friend, Martin told Venus he was not happy in his marriage. ‘From the beginning,’ an acquaintance said, ‘Venus Maria and Martin Swanson were magic together. Martin finds her extremely erotic, and Venus Maria is fascinated with his power and wealth.’
Venus threw the magazine down in a fury. ‘Where do they get this garbage?’ she yelled.
‘Let’s call Emilio,’ Ron suggested. ‘It’s quite obvious he’s been paid for this.’
She pulled a face. ‘How can people do these things? If he needed money so desperately I would have given it to him. Doesn’t he have any pride?’
‘Emilio, pride?’ Ron said, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
She was determined. ‘Gimme the phone.’
Ron did so, and she dialled Emilio’s number. His answering machine picked up.
‘Fuck you!’ she screamed into the receiver and slammed the phone down.
‘That’ll do you a lot of good, dear,’ remarked Ron.
Venus snatched up the magazine again. ‘Oh, and get this bit – Cooper’s going to be really thrilled.’ She read aloud from the magazine. ‘ “While Venus Maria plays house with Martin Swanson, Cooper Turner thinks he’s her only lover.” Can you believe this crap? I’m calling my lawyer.’
‘What can he do?’
‘I’ll sue ’em.’
‘How can you? Most of it’s true.’
She hadn’t thought about that. ‘I’d better warn Martin.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He left early. He’s involved in some kind of takeover bid. He’s gaining control of a studio.’
‘Oh, just like that. The very rich are different.’
‘Ron, do me a favour. Call his office in New York and find out where I can reach him.’
‘What do you think he’ll say?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s not used to this kind of publicity. At least I know what to expect. I’ve been everything from a lesbian alien to a woman with three breasts – and that’s just this year! The shit comes with the territory.’
‘Don’t kid yourself, dear,’ Ron said mildly. ‘Martin will probably love every minute of it.’
* * *
Martin Swanson was in a board meeting when a secretary discreetly entered the room, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Your assistant in New York has to speak to you urgently, Mr. Swanson.’
Martin couldn’t imagine what was so urgent that they had to interrupt him in the middle of a meeting. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ he said, standing up.
He walked outside. The secretary hovered behind him. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Swanson,’ she apologized. ‘However, your assistant did say it was imperative that she speak to you at once.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He waved a vague hand in her direction and picked up the phone. ‘What is it, Gertrude?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Mr. Swanson, Venus Maria is trying to reach you. She says it’s extremely urgent and that she must talk to you immediately.’
‘OK, Gertrude.’
‘Mr. Swanson?’
‘Yes? What now?’
‘I do believe I know what it’s about.’
‘Do you want to tell me? Or would you prefer to keep it a secret?’ he said sarcastically, not feeling particularly patient.
Gertrude plunged right in. ‘There’s a magazine called Truth and Fact. It’s similar to the Enquirer.’
‘So?’
‘On the cover of the issue out today there’s a front-page story concerning you and Venus Maria. Of course, I’m certain it’s all lies.’ She hesitated, and then rushed on. ‘Mr. Swanson, it’s not a very nice story. Mrs. Swanson will not be pleased.’
Martin turned to the secretary hovering nearby. ‘Is there a news-stand downstairs?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded.
‘Be a good girl – run down and get me a copy of Truth and Fact.’
‘Certainly, Mr. Swanson, at once.’
He replaced the receiver and immediately phoned Venus Maria.
‘Have you seen Truth and Fact?’ he demanded.
‘I just read it,’ she replied.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ he said curtly. ‘What have they got? San Francisco? Is Cooper in the picture?’
‘It’s worse than that, Martin. Remember that photo Cooper took of us one night at my house? Well, I had it in my safe, and I suspect my brother must have stolen it and sold it to Truth and Fact.’
‘Your brother?’
‘Emilio. He was staying with me. A real loser.’
‘So what you’re telling me is that they’ve printed this picture of us together?’
‘Yes, and it’s pretty intimate. We’re kind of sitting on the couch with our arms all over each other.’
‘Didn’t you destroy it?’
She resented his tone. ‘Obviously not. I had it in my safe. That seemed like a pretty secure place to me.’
‘Christ!’ he exclaimed, thinking of Deena’s reaction.
‘Don’t get pissed with me, it’s not my fault.’
‘Whose fault is it?’ he asked coldly.
‘I don’t know, and quite frankly I don’t give a fuck.’ She slammed the phone down. It was about time Martin learned to treat her with a little respect.
‘Trouble in lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-famous land?’ Ron ventured, pretending not to be enjoying every minute.
‘Let’s go rehearse,’ she said. ‘I’ve had it with that ego-inflated asshole.’
Chapter 65
The news spread like an out-of-control brush fire. This was Hollywood, after all, capital of innuendo, gossip, and scandal. Already everyone was talking about Mickey Stolli’s arrest at Madame Loretta’s. What a delicious item to start the day! Now the rumour was that Lucky Santangelo had purchased Panther Studios with Abe Panther’s full cooperation.
The word was out of the room before they finished the meeting. The word spread from person to person. Phones were picked up. Calls were made. The news was passed on. The news spread across Hollywood.
At Panther everyone was abuzz with Mickey Stolli’s arrest. Ford Werne couldn’t understand it. The rule was, if you go to a prostitute, never get caught. Mickey had spoiled it for all of them.
This was no ordinary Monday morning at the studio.
When Arnie Blackwood and Frankie Lombardo had finished sniggering about Mickey’s misfortune, they heard about Lucky Santangelo’s purchase of the studio and her call for a noon meeting with all the department heads. They immediately placed a call to Eddie Kane.
Eddie picked up his own phone. ‘Yeah?’
‘Don’t you come in anymore?’ Arnie demanded.
Eddie was in no mood to be harassed. ‘Only when it suits me.’
‘So I guess you’ve got no idea what’s going on,’ Frankie said, speaking on a conference call so Arnie could join in.
‘You got something to tell me?’ Eddie asked impatiently, knowing that Arnie and Frankie would never call just to enquire after his health. Maybe they were about to complain he’d scored too much coke at their party. Well, fuck ’em. Don’t have the party if you can’t part with the goods.
‘Yeah,’ Arnie replied, drawing the words out slowly. ‘Some rich broad from New York walked in with Abe this morning and bought the fuckin’ studio.’
‘What?’ Eddie wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
‘Yeah, old Abe sold the studio from right under Mickey. Didn’t you know?’
‘If I knew, do you think I’d be sitting here?’ Eddie replied agitatedly. ‘I got problems of my own.’
‘Get your stoned ass down here,’ ordered Frankie sharply. ‘There’s a meeting of all department heads at noon. We need someone in there.’
Eddie’s mind was racing. He wondered if Mickey had known about this beforehand. Maybe that’s why he’d been so cold and uptight.
Christ! Yes, Arnie and Frankie were right, he should be there. ‘I’m on my way,’ he said.
Leslie was pottering around in the kitchen. She looked beautiful. He still hadn’t figured out what she was doing in a whorehouse. Eventually he was going to have to investigate.
‘Gotta go to the studio, babe,’ he said, like this was the start of another normal day.
She looked dismayed. ‘Oh, no, Eddie. I thought we were going to find a counsellor and talk about getting you into a detox centre. Do you have to go?’
‘Yeah,’ Eddie said, his twitching in full swing. ‘Too bad about that counsellor thing. We’ll do it next week. OK, babe?’
It wasn’t OK, but Leslie didn’t say a word.
* * *
Lucky had an advantage. She knew who the players were and they didn’t know her.
At twelve o’clock precisely they all trooped into the conference room.
Abe had taken off, followed by Inga, followed by Abigaile, followed by Primrose and Ben – both complaining bitterly. No doubt she would hear from them later.
The contingent of department heads was led by Ford Werne, still looking as if he’d stepped from the front page of GQ magazine, impeccable in another Armani suit, the same five-hundred-dollar tinted aviator shades covering his eyes. He was an attractive man – if you liked killers.
Zev Lorenzo followed Ford into the room and walked straight over to her, offering his hand. ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said in a friendly fashion.
Then came Grant Wendell, Junior, Vice President of Worldwide Production, looking like a reject from the mail-room in his baggy pants and Dodgers baseball cap. He gave her a casual sort of half-wave. ‘Hiya.’
Lucky wondered if Mickey was going to put in a final appearance, or if his resignation was it. He must be in shock. Good. Mickey deserved a little shock in his life.
Teddy T. Lauden hurried into the room – a thin, precise man, constantly glancing at his watch. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Santangelo,’ he said, opting for a more formal relationship. ‘A pleasure to meet you. I do hope I’m not late. I had another meeting to attend. Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed enough time to cancel it. As you must understand, this has been a big shock for all of us.’