Leon’s mind was racing. Why had they adopted a child in the first place? Could it be that because of Willis’s problem they were unable to have a child of their own? In all of his checking Leon had been unable to come up with any information about Deke’s birth. Could it be that he was adopted too?
Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He needed more information. Much more.
He needed to know who Deke Andrews really was.
53
The cast was set.
An Oliver Easterne Production, Street People. Starring Gina Germaine and Ross Conti, and introducing Buddy Hudson as Vinnie.
Produced by Oliver Easterne. Directed by Montana Gray.
Two weeks of interiors in the studio. Followed by eight weeks out on location.
A press party at the Westwood Marquis Hotel three days before shooting to introduce the cast to the media.
Montana could have strangled Gina Germaine. Blond hair puffed and teased to breaking point. A white dress that oozed over her curves, barely making it across the famous boobs.
“The idea,” Montana told her acidly, “was to let the press know that this role is a big departure for you. How do you expect them to take you seriously when you look ready to open your act in Vegas?”
“Don’t get touchy, sweetheart,” cooed Gina. “I’m afraid you will find that I am always the center of attention—whatever I wear.”
Obviously the woman hadn’t understood a word of their previous meeting.
“Listen,” Montana said quickly. “I think we should talk.”
“Not now, sweetie,” Gina cooed dismissively, gesturing toward the waiting press and running her tongue over glistening lips.
“How about tomorrow morning?” Montana insisted.
“When I’m not working I never get up before twelve,” Gina scolded, as if everyone should know that.
“Lunch then.”
A reluctant sigh. “Oh, all right.”
Montana then spotted Ross Conti. He looked positively handsome. Whatever had happened to the aging actor she had lunched with at Ma Maison?
Time spent under a tanning lamp. Subtle bleach to cover the gray in the hair. A facial. A massage. A two-day fast. Special eyedrops to take the red out.
“Oh, no!” she muttered. What she had here was a couple of Hollywood movie stars determined to look their best and screw the movie. But they were going to have to deal with her, and she wasn’t going to take it.
Only Buddy looked right. Nothing he did could conceal his animal sexuality. There was no mistaking the fact that he was going to walk right off with the film whether she managed to coax a performance out of him or not.
Gina did a long double-take when she met him. She appraised him the way an expert appraises fine gems.
While Gina was checking out Buddy, Ross zeroed in on her. She had a pair the like of which he had not seen in a long time. Why couldn’t he find a woman with Gina’s tits, Karen’s nipples, Sadie’s business acumen, and Elaine’s knack of looking after him?
He avoided Sadie at the party. He would never forgive her for treating him the way she had.
Still, the last laugh was his. He was starring in Street People, although he had been extremely angry when he saw the new script. His part was slashed to hell.
“Don’t worry,” Montana had assured him. “Ignore the cut version. We’re shooting the original—only don’t mention it to Oliver.”
Sadie observed Ross with a mixture of regret and satisfaction. She knew she had hurt him—at least wounded his pride. But her revenge was nothing compared to the way he had treated her. She should have demanded more.
Too late now—he was avoiding her. Shame. She could have gotten him twice the amount of money he had settled for.
Buddy sparkled. He was born to be in the limelight. A shining star. Well, maybe not a star yet, but he was in orbit, wasn’t he? All set to soar.
A pretty black girl with a snub nose said, “Hi, I’m Virgie from Teen Topics.” She fumbled with a tape recorder. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
He smiled. “I’d love it.” Talking about himself was becoming a habit. Twenty-three pre-movie interviews in five days. Hardly time to go to the bathroom, let alone track down Angel. He had called her just once. Time and space were needed to win her back.
Virgie’s tape recorder clicked into action. “Where were you born?” she asked.
Breathy little voice. Sweat beading her upper lip. Was she nervous? Talking to him?
“New York,” he lied. “Hell’s Kitchen. It was tough, but I made out.”
“When did you come to Hollywood?”
“Last year. I hitched my way from New York. When I got here I tried several jobs. Lifeguard, sports counselor with kids, taxi driver. Things like that.” He paused. Dramatic effect. “Sadie La Salle climbed into my cab one day and whammo! ‘Are you an actor?’ she says. ‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Then I want you to see Oliver Easterne at once,’ she says.”
Virgie’s eyes widened. “Gosh!”
“Hey—it was unreal. The next week I’m testing. Can you believe it?”
She faithfully recorded every word.
“Everything okay, Buddy?” asked Pusskins Malone, the chief PR man who had helped him make up his new biography.
Buddy made an affirmative circle with his thumb and forefinger.
“They want pictures of you with Gina. Excuse us, dear.” Virgie nodded. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I’ll be watching for your film. Maybe we can do another piece when it comes out.”
“Sure. Why not?” Gracious star to the hilt. He loved it.
“Did you get a press kit, dear?” Pusskins asked. “Pictures, bios—they’re by the door. If you need anything else just give me a buzz.”
“I will.”
“Cute little thing,” he said, hurrying Buddy in the direction of Gina, who was surrounded by a heavy throng of enthusiastic photographers. “You met supercunt yet?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.”
Pusskins laughed cynically. “Attila the Hun with tits!”
“Not my type.”
“Doesn’t matter. Are you her type? ’Cause if you are—run for the hills!”
“Thanks, but I’ve already heard the Neil Gray story.”
“He was lucky. Some guys have dived between those thighs and haven’t been seen for a week!”
Gina greeted him with hungry eyes, a manufactured smile, and a great thrusting of boobs. “Isn’t he sexy, darlings?” she cooed to the photographers.
“Kiss him, Gina.”
“Hug him, Gina.”
“A little more cleavage, Gina.”
She grabbed Buddy in all the right poses.
He noticed that beneath the makeup and hair and flirtatious banter she was cold as an ice chip.
The photographers clicked nonstop while she threw a few instructions his way. “Smile.” “Look sexy.” “For crissakes, move, you’re in my shadow.” “What are you doing later?”
He thought of the old joke.
I wouldn’t go near you with a ten-foot pole.
Show me a pole with ten foot and who needs you.
Oliver strode over, beaming. “What a couple! Inspired casting.”
Montana, conducting an interview with Vernon Scott of UPI, viewed the scene from afar and cringed. A fine send-off for her movie.
Ross had been discovered by Virgie, her anxious tape recorder thrust in his face.
Sadie watched Gina and Buddy as they posed for the photographers. Now, if Ross had been her client there would be no way he would not be up there with them. Tomorrow these pictures would run nationwide and it would be Street People, Gina Germaine, and Buddy Hudson who were mentioned. Poor old Ross was left at the post. Again.
She felt sorry for him. Then she remembered, and her expression hardened. The hell with Ross Conti. He was getting everything he deserved.
She turned away just as Pusskins grabbed Ross and hustled him over to the photographic throng.
br /> • • •
“You owe me two weeks’ money. Four hundred an’ sixty dollars, señora.” Lina stood stoically by the back door.
“Four hundred and sixty dollars,” Elaine repeated blankly.
“Two weeks. An’ Miguel two hundred on Saturday.”
“You will be paid,” she said grandly.
How come when Lina talks money her English is perfect?
“When?” demanded Lina.
“Soon.”
“When soon?”
“Oh, leave me alone, you stupid woman!”
She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door. Loyalty. That was a laugh. Lina had worked for her for eight years. She had paid her regularly—through sickness and vacation. And now you would think she would be prepared to wait an extra day or two. Goddam help. If Lina wasn’t careful she would fire her and do the house herself.
You should have had children, Elaine. That way he could never have left you without money.
Leave me alone, Etta. Don’t you think I know it?
She was lonely, rattling around the big house all by herself. Screw the money. Maybe it would have been nice to have children around. Grown ones, preferably. She wouldn’t go so far as to welcome diapers and toys and all that nursery stuff. But it had not been possible, so why was she even thinking about it? And Ross hadn’t minded. In fact, he had been quite pleased. Typical actor. Didn’t relish competition.
Pulling herself together, she ventured out of the bedroom. Better make peace with Lina. A stupid maid was better than no maid at all.
• • •
Little S. Schortz drove past the Conti house three times. He was hesitant about going in. He had never met Mrs. Conti, and wives could be very prickly when approached with pictures of their husbands in bed with other women, but since Mr. Conti had failed to turn up for their meeting, he felt she was his best bet.
A police car cruised slowly past, and the cop gave him a brief once-over. Little turned quickly into the Conti driveway and parked. He had read in the newspapers about the Contis separating. If Mrs. C. wanted evidence for her divorce, he had it—in spades. And if she could pay, it was hers.
He got out of his car and approached the front door, observing that some people certainly knew how to live.
A surly Spanish maid answered the door, her face a thundercloud. “Si?” she spat rudely.
He pulled himself up to his full height, all five feet five inches, and handed her a battered business card. “Give this to Mrs. Conti,” he said with all the authority he could muster. “Tell her I have come regarding her husband.”
“Meester Conti no here. He go away—you come back ’nother time.” She began to close the door on him.
He used the foot ploy. Something he had learned from overdosing on Mickey Spillane books.
“Move your goddam foots,” yelled Lina.
“I want to see Mrs. Conti. Mrs. Conti,” he insisted. “Give her my card.”
Lina glared at him suspiciously. “Why you no say Meesus in place first?”
“I did.”
“You wait.”
She slammed the door with maniacal force, dislodging his foot and nearly crippling him for life. He jumped up and down filled with pain and rage. Whatever Elaine Conti was like she had to be better than her maid.
• • •
“Ah, Lina, there you are,” Elaine said sweetly. “I want to apologize for my rudeness earlier.”
Lina scowled darkly and thrust the card in her face.
“What’s this?”
“Man at door,” she muttered, and marched into the kitchen mumbling.
Elaine squinted at the card. She didn’t have her contacts in, and the printing on the card was obscured by several dirty marks. She followed Lina into the kitchen. “What does this man want?”
Lina shrugged uninterestedly. “Don’ know.” She busied herself at the sink.
Oh, God, it’s a creditor. Ross has stopped paying the bills.
“Lina,” she wheedled, “would you please tell him I’m not at home?”
Lina banged a few dishes around and ignored her.
“Lina, dear. Please.”
The maid turned and glared at her. “Man very rude. I no deal weeth him.”
Elaine stamped her foot. “I pay you to deal with him.”
“You pay me nothing,” Lina crowed triumphantly.
Elaine stalked out of the kitchen. God! She could certainly deal with one lousy creditor herself; she didn’t have to plead with the maid. How dare Lina behave like this.
She marched to the front door and flung it open. “Yes?” she shrieked. “What do you want?”
Little took one look at Elaine Conti, wild-eyed in a peach negligee, and took two steps backward, promptly tripping and nearly breaking his neck.
Elaine helped him to his feet, ever mindful of the fact that he was on her property and if he broke anything he could sue.
“I’m Little S. Schortz,” he gasped. “Private investigator. And I have some photos that I think might be of interest to you.”
• • •
“What are you doing later?” Gina whispered in Buddy’s ear.
The press reception was coming to an end. The bar had just been declared closed, and that usually meant a mass exodus.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m studying my script,” he said.
She licked full glossed lips and smiled invitingly. “Wanna go over lines together? Wanna screw a movie star?”
He feigned surprise. “Hey—do you really think Ross Conti would let me?”
She frowned. “If you’re gay, sweetheart, then I’m Sadie La Salle’s mother!”
“You said it.” He backed away, making a swift escape while there were still people around. Who would have thought that the day would come when he turned down a real-life honest-to-goodness movie star? Hey-hey-hey—with age he was definitely getting smarter. He’d had her number the moment he set eyes on her, and he didn’t even have the hots for her. What was the famous Paul Newman quote? Why have hamburger when you got steak at home.
Only he didn’t have anything at home. And he should have Angel waiting for him.
He had to make a move. The longer he waited the more difficult it would be. Resolutely he searched out a phone booth. It was past six, but maybe she would still be there.
The same male voice answered. “Koko’s.”
“I want Angel,” Buddy said.
“Don’t they all,” singsonged the voice.
Buddy began a slow burn. “Is she there or not?”
“Sorry, not. Can I give her a message?”
“Where can I reach her?”
“You can’t.”
“But I need to talk to her.”
“Sorry. Any message?”
Reluctantly he left his name and number. “See she gets it. It’s urgent.”
Koko wrote the information down, and debated whether to give it to her. She was so settled and happy now. Did she really need the husband back in her life?
He thought perhaps not, so he folded the piece of paper and put it in his shirt pocket. He would discuss it with Adrian later, see what he thought. Adrian always made the right decisions.
• • •
Gina Germaine, miffed by Buddy’s lack of interest, switched her attentions to Oliver, much to his consternation.
“Your star is available for dinner at Chasen’s,” she purred. “Unless you’d prefer something cozier. We could always go to my place and send out for Chinese.”
“Chasen’s,” he said hastily. “I’ve asked Ross.” Which was a lie, but one he would quickly amend. “I was just about to invite you.”
Ross already had a dinner date with Pusskins Malone. The two men went back quite a way and enjoyed swapping stories of lurid pasts.
“You can bring Pusskins,” Oliver said reluctantly, never one to spring for a large check.
Ross wanted to say no. But a rule of the game was be nice to the producer, so he said, “Su
re, we’ll come.”
He did not know that Oliver planned to invite Sadie La Salle. Had he known that, wild buffalos wouldn’t have dragged a yes out of him.
Oliver also decided to ask Montana and Buddy. Didn’t want anyone feeling slighted. Besides, if he was going for a check, he might as well go all the way. It would come off the budget anyway.
Somewhere between the lobby of the Westwood Marquis and the waiting limos the venue was changed from Chasen’s to Morton’s. A mistake as far as Ross was concerned, because the moment he entered the cool casualness of Morton’s restaurant, Karen materialized in front of him.
“Why haven’t I seen you?” she hissed, nipples on prominent display through a white silk shirt. “If you’re worried about Elaine, I don’t mind being named in the divorce.”
Without thinking he automatically reached out and touched an erect nipple. She let forth an animal groan. Several interested diners turned to stare. He realized what he was doing and dropped his hand quickly.
Pusskins came up behind. “Karen, lovely. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you, Puss.” Her green eyes swiveled to take in Gina Germaine’s entrance. “Jesus!” she snorted, glaring at Ross. “Are you with that?”
“It’s a dinner laid on by Oliver,” he explained. “Who are you with?”
“Some bore. I’ll get rid of him and meet you in the parking lot as soon as you can shake your group. Give me a signal. Are we on?”
He dropped his eyes to her nipples. “We’re on.”
She walked off, wearing nothing beneath skin-tight white silk pants.
“And she’s loaded too,” groaned Pusskins. “Some guys have all the luck.”
Gina shoved between the two of them and linked arms. “Hi, everybody,” she giggled, aware of the fact that the entire restaurant was observing her entrance. “This girl is starving. Anyone for din-din?”
• • •
The table was round. The seating thus.
Oliver. Gina on one side, Sadie the other. Beside Gina a truculent Ross, with Pusskins on his other side, and then Montana. Buddy was placed between Sadie and Montana, with Gina eying him hungrily across the table.
Conversation was stilted to say the least. Pusskins was the only one with anything to say. He regaled the uptight group with hilarious stories about the Cannes Film Festival, a celebrated actor and his even more celebrated toupee, and a few Monroe anecdotes.