Then she was gone, walking off down the hill in her scuffed boots and ridiculous wig.
With a heavy feeling Dallas knew that she would be back. The two hundred dollars was only a beginning. A girl with a habit like that to support was going to run out of money real fast.
* * *
‘I think you should handle me,’ the girl said. She was incredibly pretty, with an abundance of blond curls and a devastating smile. Her tongue flicked out and licked full glossy lips. ‘I don’t know why you’re fighting it, you know we’d be good for each other. I’d be a very cooperative client.’ She emphasized cooperative, leaving Cody in no doubt about what the cooperative would encompass.
He cleared his throat, glad that his desk stood protectively between them. ‘Well, Carol…’ he began, continuing with a quick line of bullshit that he was getting quite proficient at. He called it his ‘don’t call me I’ll call you’ line.
It was amazing the people who had wanted to become clients. If he was just after a quick buck he would have signed all of them.
Carol Cameron was not an unknown little starlet. She had starred in two very successful sex horror movies – not hard core either. The trouble was she couldn’t act and she had screwed half – if not all – of Hollywood to get where she was today.
Cody did not fancy her, and even if he did it would not make any difference to his decision. Sex would not get in the way of business. He had proved that with Dallas.
Carol knew a turndown when she saw one. She stood up, smoothed down the revealing jersey dress she was wearing. Her nipples strained to escape the confines of the material. ‘Think about it, Cody. Why don’t you drop by my house later and have a drink?’
‘I’m having dinner with my mother,’ he replied quickly. Sometimes his mother came in very useful.
‘So later,’ Carol purred. ‘You’re not going to sleep with your mother, are you?’
He laughed at what he supposed was a joke. Very bad taste, like the lady who had made it.
‘I don’t think I can…’ Why was he making excuses? Why didn’t he just tell her no? ‘No,’ he said.
‘No?’ she questioned.
‘No, I… er… can’t.’
She pouted, ‘Shame! Perhaps another night. I’ll call you.’
Mental note. Tell secretary he was always out to any calls from Miss Carol Cameron.
‘Wonderful! I’ll look forward to it.’
She blew him a kiss and undulated out of his office. It was horribly old-fashioned to undulate. Dallas strode – long, purposeful, sexy strides, like a beautiful leopard.
Thinking of Dallas reminded him it was late, and she would be home from the studio by now. Kiki and Chuck were coming over and they were going to barbecue. He had promised to pick up the steaks, and agreeing to see Carol Cameron had made him late. He swore softly, gathered up some papers he wanted to go over later, and left the office.
* * *
Dallas was drinking too much. She had dived into the vodka before dinner, heavily indulged in the wine during dinner, and now was into her third Cointreau on the rocks.
‘I thought this was going to be a quiet evening at home,’ Cody said, following her into the kitchen whilst she stacked the plates in the dishwasher.
‘So it is,’ she replied brightly. ‘Everyone’s having a good time, the steaks were great.’
Gently he extracted the glass from her hand. ‘You’re working tomorrow.’
She snatched it back. ‘I’m working every day.’ There was a hard edge to her voice. ‘I’m a working girl, always have been.’
‘What’s the matter?’ Cody asked patiently.
‘Matter?’ Her eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘Why should anything be the matter?’
Kiki breezed into the kitchen. ‘I’m taking my man home,’ she announced. ‘Sorry about eating and running, but if I don’t get him home now, he’s going to be a permanent fixture in front of your TV!’
‘Take him home and give him one for me.’ Dallas shot a baleful look at Cody. ‘That’s about all I’ll get tonight!’
‘Oh boy!’ exclaimed Kiki. ‘We’ll get out before the dishes fly!’ She winked at Cody. ‘See you all tomorrow.’
She thought it was all a big joke. A lovers’ quarrel. Everyone thought that Dallas and Cody were lovers.
‘I hate you,’ Dallas said spitefully when Cody returned from seeing their guests off. ‘I really hate you, and what’s more I think you’re a fag. You hear me – a FAG.’
Her anger at finding Bobbie in her house was finally erupting. And Cody was the nearest target.
‘You’re drunk,’ he said quietly. ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’
‘Fag!’ she jeered. ‘Closet queen!’
His mouth tightened. ‘I’m going home. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, go on home – or better still why don’t you run on over to mommy’s?’ She tore off her shirt and faced him menacingly, her naked breasts perfect in their splendour. ‘I’m offering you for free something that other men have had to pay for. But it’s too much for you, isn’t it? You’d sooner sink it into some nice tight ass… You’d sooner…’
He approached her swiftly, gripped her by the shoulders. ‘What do you mean – other men have had to pay for it?’
She was suddenly sullen. ‘Nothing.’
He shook her. ‘What do you mean?’ He was now as angry as she was.
She tried to shrug him off, but he had her in a tight grip. ‘I said nothing…’ she muttered.
His anger collapsed. ‘I don’t know you, do I? I worship you and I know nothing about you.’ He let go of her and turned to go.
She ran after him, pulled him round to face her. ‘I was a hooker,’ she screamed, ‘a cheap twenty-dollar hooker! Does that satisfy you? Does that make you feel better? No wonder you don’t want to fuck me…’ The tears came on top of the anger and she fell on to the couch sobbing.
He was shocked, genuinely shocked. But then he knew that he had never investigated her past because he was frightened of what he would find out.
He went to her, held her in his arms, comforted her while she poured out her life.
She left out Lew Margolis and the pictures. She left out Bobbie and their relationship. She left out her marriage at sixteen.
She told him what it suited her to tell him. She told him what she thought he could accept and still keep loving her.
In the early hours of the morning they chartered a jet, flew to Las Vegas, and got married.
Cody knew when he was needed.
Chapter Forty-Four
When Melanie slid confidently into bed alongside her husband, she was aghast to find herself embracing feminine curves. Linda had been similarly aghast, and Paul had been hopeful that perhaps a freak earthquake might hit New Orleans.
Meanwhile, Edna was in a state of shock, seeing her beloved husband indulging in the sort of activities that she had thought only existed in perverted people’s minds. As she threw up, she could think only of the fact that she was ruining somebody’s carpet, but somehow, for once in her life, it didn’t seem to matter, and she stood there vomiting, oblivious to the hostile stare of the Golden Lady whom Al had kicked half-way across the room.
‘Jeeesus Chriiist!’ exclaimed Lynn as Al wrenched her head off him. ‘What is this?’
‘It’s my wife,’ explained Al, sobriety hitting him like a hammer. ‘Get the hell out of here!’
It wasn’t the first time that Lynn had been caught in a similar situation. Wordlessly, she grabbed her mink coat, flinging it over her nakedness. ‘Come on!’ she said to Golden Lady, who was grovelling around on the floor looking for her clothes.
Al said, ‘Edna?’ As if not quite sure it was really her.
She looked at him with pain-filled eyes. ‘I’m sorry…’ she began.
‘She’s sorry!’ huffed Lynn, pushing past with Golden Lady who was in a most bedraggled state. ‘If I was you, dear, I’d get a new lynx coat at least!’
A
l waited until they were gone, then he walked over to Edna, took her arm, and led her to a chair. He slumped on the sofa next to her and muttered, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’
‘Put some clothes on, you’ll catch cold,’ she said in the normal voice of a mother scolding a child. Her eyes refused to meet his, they darted nervously round the room. She got up. ‘Where’s the bathroom? I want to clear up that mess.’
‘Leave it,’ he commanded.
‘I can’t leave it.’ Her voice was all choked up. ‘I can’t leave it, Al. And I’m sorry I came, and I’m sorry I upset you. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I told Melanie…’ Her voice began to quaver. ‘How could you? How could you?’ She broke into tears. ‘I only wanted to be with you on your birthday… That’s all. Oh, Al, why did you do it?’
Why did I do it? Because I’ve been doing it for years one way or another. Because when I get off that stage I’m about ready to explode. Because you’ve never been around when I’ve really needed you. Because you think sex should take place in a bedroom, in the dark, once a week, using one position only. And whenever I’ve suggested anything else you’ve backed away in horror.
‘You can divorce me,’ he stated blankly, and was amazed at the relief that came flooding over him as soon as he said it.
‘I don’t want to do that,’ she interrupted quickly, ‘we’re very happy. I love you. I think that in time I can forgive you. After all if it was only this once…’ She trailed off, waiting for him to assure her that it was only this once.
He said nothing.
‘Where is Evan?’ she ventured.
It hadn’t taken her long to ask about her precious son.
‘He’s all right,’ Al replied brusquely, ‘you can see him in the morning.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘we’ll all feel better in the morning. This will seem like a bad dream in the morning.’ She sighed deeply, and summoned a tenacious whisper of a smile. ‘I’m going to try and forget it ever happened, Al. I’m going to forgive you.’
* * *
‘You sonofabitch!’ Melanie shrilled. ‘I could understand you having it off with some little tart –but sleeping with the bitch, spending the night with her. Who is she?’
Paul shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter who she is.’
‘It doesn’t matter who she is!’ mimicked Melanie. ‘You can bet your boots it doesn’t matter who she is – because you’re not seeing her again! That is if you ever want to see your children again.’ She paused triumphantly, knowing she had gotten to him with that threat.
They had been bickering ever since Linda had left. God, Linda handled it well, Paul thought. After the initial scene of French farce she had leapt from the bed, coolly shut herself in the bathroom, dressed, and left without a word to either of them – in spite of the temptation of Melanie’s spiteful verbal attack. Paul had wanted to applaud her dignity.
‘I should have thought,’ sniffed Melanie, determined to get as much mileage as possible out of the event, ‘you could have done better than that. I should have thought that while you were picking it might have been a nineteen-year-old nympho. Or are you losing your touch? Are all the best ones going in Al’s direction? Was this hag one of Al’s rejects?’
Paul wanted to slap her right across her pretty pointed face. But he knew it was important to stay calm, appear cool. If Melanie so much as suspected that Linda was anything serious…
‘She was some girl I picked up in the bar,’ he admitted, ‘some nothing girl.’ Christ! If Linda could hear him she would never talk to him again.
‘Absolutely charming! And I suppose if you had got syphilis or something from her I would have been the one you would come running home to with it.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘Oh – don’t be silly,’ Melanie narrowed her eyes and glared at him, ‘what are you? A fool? You could have got infected, she looked like a tramp. I want you to go to a doctor tomorrow.’
‘All right, I’ll go to a doctor if it will make you happy,’ Paul muttered.
‘Thank you. I think it’s the least you can do.’ She yawned, ready to forget the incident for the time being. Actually it had been rather exciting catching dull old Paul like that. He had become exceedingly dull in the last few years, only interested in business and making money. Well, she couldn’t complain about that – but it certainly was a change from the man she had married. A man whose sole interest in life had been getting her into bed.
She felt a tingle of excitement, and she thought of the good-looking airline official who had driven her to the hotel, and the tingle became an itch. She thought of the naked woman climbing out of bed with Paul. She had not been an old bag. She had been a very attractive female, a fact that Melanie would never admit.
She moved closer to her husband. ‘Did she have nice boobs?’ she asked, her voice becoming babyish.
He knew what to answer. He was not a fool. ‘Not as nice as yours.’
‘As mine?’ She feigned surprise, ‘but mine are only little. Do you like them little?’
He was relieved that forgiveness had been so quick, and he reached for his wife and massaged her small breasts the way she liked him to. She moaned immediately, and lifted the slip she was wearing. He pulled off her panties, all the time thinking about Linda. He bent his head to her breasts, and she moaned even louder. One thing he enjoyed about Linda was her delirious silence. He did not have an erection, but fortunately Melanie did not bother to notice. She had other ideas. She was pushing his head down and opening her legs.
‘I can’t let you make love to me properly,’ she gasped, as he attacked her with his tongue, ‘not until you’ve had a doctor look at your thing. I don’t want to catch anything, do I?’
* * *
In her room Linda was busy packing. She was numb with fury, number with disgust – and both emotions were directed at Paul. Her lover, her big brave man. He had practically shit himself with fear.
She relived the evening in her mind. The party – everyone had had a good time, everyone had still been recovering from the events of earlier, so a lot of drinking had gone on, and when she and Paul had returned to bed they were both slightly out of it. They hadn’t even made love. They had kissed goodnight, cuddled up, and gone to sleep. Just like an old married couple.
The next thing that Linda could remember was hands on her, hands that snatched themselves off her in double quick time, and a high-pitched voice screaming, ‘Who the hell are you?’
Paul had woken, switched on the light, and recoiled in horror at the woman who appeared to have joined them in bed. He said one startled word – ‘Melanie!’ That had been enough for Linda. Wordlessly she had left the bed, found her clothes, and gone into the bathroom to dress.
She didn’t know what else to do. Paul was struck speechless, and the skinny blonde – his wife – was screeching insults at him.
He was still speechless when she came out of the bathroom. The blonde stared at her, started to say something. But Linda didn’t wait to hear, she got out of there – fast. And when she was out of there, and in her own room, she suddenly saw the whole scene in a much clearer light.
Bloody hell – she wasn’t a hooker, for Christ’s sake. She was Paul’s long-standing girlfriend, he professed to love her. And yet he had not uttered one single word. He had not tried to protect her in any way, shape or form. He had been scared shitless.
Yes, she could understand that it was unexpected. But it had happened. It was a confrontation, and he could have dealt with it like a man.
Grimly she finished packing. She had no intention of hanging around to listen to his excuses. First plane out in the morning to New York – and fuck Paul King.
* * *
Evan awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He had not slept properly anyway. How could you sleep properly three in a bed? Glory was in the middle, lying on top of the covers with all her clothes on, still fast asleep. Plum was squashed on one side, her vast nude body covered only partly by t
he sheet. She lay on her back and emitted harsh snores. Evan had about three inches of space on the other side. He felt worse than ever, his arm throbbed violently, and his body ached all over.
He licked dry lips and picked up the phone. On the other end was his father, who didn’t waste any words.
‘Get those two slags out of your room if they’re with you. Clean yourself up and get yourself up to my suite.’ There was a short pause, a heavy sigh, then, ‘your mother is here.’
Holy crap! His mother!
Evan glanced guiltily at the two sleeping girls. His mother! If she should ever find out…
He didn’t know what to do first. Dress. Wake them. Hide.
He ran in the bathroom, peered at his spotty face, ran back to the bedroom, shook Plum, who merely groaned and turned over.
Frantically he grabbed Glory by the shoulders, and she sat bolt upright, startling him. ‘Wassashitsamatter?’ she mumbled.
‘My mother,’ he explained, his panic-stricken voice uncontrollable, ‘she’s here. She’s with my father, she’s here.’
‘So what?’ Glory questioned, her thin mouth set in a mean line.
Evan was speechless. He had expected Glory to react in the same way that he had. He had expected her to leap up, dress, wake Plum, and get the hell out of his hotel room.
Glory was lying down. Glory was preparing to go back to sleep.
‘You’ve got to go,’ Evan said quickly, ‘you and Plum. If my mother comes down here, sees you…’
‘So what?’ repeated Glory, even more meanly than the first time: She was not pleased at being woken.
‘She’ll go mad,’ stammered Evan.
‘Take away your train set, will she?’ mocked Glory, ‘smacka naughty little boy’s ass?’
Evan reddened, his spots standing out lividly.
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Glory in disgust, ‘You’re just like all the rest. Had your good time – now we can just piss on off.’ She gave Plum a vicious kick, ‘Wake up, fatso, we’re gettin’ the push again.’ She climbed off the bed and gave Evan a bitter stare before going in the bathroom, ‘And t’think I thought you were one of us. What a laugh!’ She slammed the bathroom door, leaving him with Plum who had sat up and was looking at him suspiciously.