Page 29 of Hollywood Husbands


  ‘Jade?’ he asked. ‘Are you there?’

  When she said nothing he left his message, sounding embarrassed, as most people are when faced with speaking to a machine.

  ‘Er… I’m in town.’

  Obviously.

  ‘Please telephone me at L’Ermitage.’

  Oh, great! A repeat performance.

  ‘This is Mark.’

  As if I don’t know.

  ‘Er… call me. Please.’

  He hung up.

  She sighed. She wasn’t ready for him. Not now.

  Yes, she was. She just wanted to curl up in his arms and shut out the world.

  With a sigh of resignation, she reached for the phone.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Silver managed a frosty smile. She was outraged, furious, incensed. What was Zachary doing at her wedding dinner? Who the hell had invited him?

  She had gone over the list of guests several times, making sure there were no enemies included. Poppy had been most obliging, crossing off a ridiculous actress made of silicone, and a glassy-eyed producer who everyone knew was certifiably insane, but put up with anyway because he continued to produce movies, even though none of them ever made any money.

  ‘I don’t think we should invite riff-raff,’ Silver had remarked mildly, and the two offenders’ names were struck through with a heavy felt-tip pen.

  Now Zachary K. Klinger was present. And not only was he present, he was sitting down beside her.

  The smile was fixed on her face like a frozen mask. Poppy Soloman knows! Poppy Soloman did this on purpose! I’ll get the bitch for this!

  ‘Good evening, Silver,’ Zachary said.

  ‘Zachary! How lovely to see you. What a surprise! I’d like you to meet my husband, Wes Money, Junior.’

  ‘Will you cut out the Junior,’ Wes muttered irritably.

  Zachary ignored him, concentrating only on Silver. ‘Congratulations on your success,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, anxious to excuse herself and rush to the ladies’ room just to make absolutely certain she looked her best. Not that she cared what Zachary thought. It was just that after sixteen years one didn’t want to be caught looking anything but perfect.

  ‘You haven’t changed,’ he said.

  Nor had he, only she wasn’t about to flatter him. His hair was completely grey, and there were more lines on his face, that was all. He had never been handsome, but he radiated power, and it was that which had attracted her to him in the first place.

  When they first met, he was an important and extremely rich man. Since their last encounter he had become a legendary business tycoon and billionaire.

  ‘Well!’ Poppy exclaimed, as a delicate avocado and papaya salad was served. ‘Isn’t this fun!’

  * * *

  ‘When are you goin’ to dump the bozo?’ Howard asked, with a knowing wink.

  Whitney flashed her famous teeth. ‘Don’t be bad, Howard. Chuck is an excellent actor, and extremely misunderstood.’

  ‘The guy is a stoned beach bum who is not worthy of you.’ He liked that. The ‘not worthy of you’ exhibited a great deal of class.

  Whitney held her smile steady. ‘I’m not planning to marry him.’

  Howard wanted to say – Just hump his ass off, huh? But that wasn’t classy, not classy at all. And above all he wanted her to regard him as a man of style.

  ‘Have you read the script?’ he asked.

  She nodded, all teeth and hair and sparkling aquamarine eyes. ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Zeppo has asked me not to discuss it with you.’

  ‘What?’ He was outraged. ‘Since when has Zeppo been your agent?’

  ‘Do I hear my name?’ Zeppo White asked. He was sitting next to Beverly D’Amo, who was keeping him royally entertained with stories of her exploits in Peru.

  Whitney widened her eyes. ‘I was just telling Howard that you’re my agent now.’

  ‘How’d he take it?’ snapped Zeppo, blinking rapidly several times. He was a small nut of a man, with a shock of bright orange hair, alarmingly styled in some kind of crazed pompadour. His reputation was fierce.

  ‘I don’t know,’ smiled Whitney. ‘How did you take it, Howard?’

  ‘When you get bitten by a snake, you look around for someone to suck out the poison.’

  She continued to smile. ‘Yes?’

  ‘And if I’m very lucky, you’ll suck it for me, won’t you, Whitney?’ Not too classy, but funny all the same.

  She laughed. Zeppo laughed. Beverly laughed. Ida White looked vague, but laughed anyway.

  ‘I wouldn’t put all your money on it if I was you, Howard,’ teased Whitney.

  ‘Dirty talk! I love it!’ exclaimed Beverly. ‘I thought you warned me to behave myself tonight, Zeppo.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to do the impossible, kiddo,’ Zeppo replied with a jaunty wink.

  * * *

  ‘Did you know that my wife died several months ago?’ Zachary said, staring intently at Silver.

  She sipped champagne, refusing to return his gaze. What did he want from her? Was she supposed to say she was sorry? Silver Anderson was not a hypocrite and refused to act like one.

  ‘This means I’m free at last,’ he said pointedly.

  She thought she might laugh in his face. Free. Sixteen years later. So what?

  ‘How nice for you,’ she replied coolly.

  He continued to stare at her, waiting for a more positive reaction. Didn’t she understand what he was telling her? Finally they could be together, for over the years Silver was the only woman he had thought about and always wanted.

  She was the perfect match for him. The Queen to sit beside him on his throne. Now that his wife was dead there was nothing to prevent their union.

  ‘I have an interesting proposition for you,’ he said.

  She appeared bored. ‘Really?’

  ‘Perhaps you can meet me at my hotel tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘It’s to your advantage.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘A business meeting. That’s all.’

  Arrogant bastard. Did he really imagine he could walk back into her life and take over? ‘I would hardly suspect it to be anything else,’ she said icily.

  He lowered his voice, so only she could hear his harsh whisper, determined to get to her. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Silver. You’re too old for me now.’

  His words stung like a sharp slap. How dare he talk to her like that, HOW DARE HE!

  Lowering her voice to match his, she said, ‘You were always too old for me, Zachary.’

  He laughed without humour, remembering her weak spot. ‘Dear Silver, you never could take criticism, could you?’

  Unable to control herself, she said, ‘Shove it, Zachary dear, right up your decrepit old ass.’

  * * *

  ‘How’re you doin’?’

  Melanie-Shanna, on her way out of the ladies’ room, jumped. Chuck Nielson loomed in front of her, stoned eyes and boyish grin.

  Pulling herself together she asked him evenly, ‘Do you follow me every time I go to the bathroom?’

  ‘Only when I know you want me to.’ His come-on was out in the open. Usually it worked. Tonight it didn’t.

  ‘You’re on the wrong track, Mr Nielson,’ she said. ‘And if you don’t get off it, I’ll tell my husband.’

  ‘Hey – hey – hey! Back off, beautiful. I’m only makin’ polite, not grabbing your gorgeous body.’

  She looked him straight in the eye. ‘Don’t. Okay?’ He threw up his hands. ‘You got it, babe.’ She hurried past him, back to her place at the table next to Mannon. It crossed her mind that maybe she should tell Mannon, if only to see what he would do. Then she thought, no, why cause unnecessary trouble, she could deal with it herself. All her life she had been dealing with it…

  * * *

  For the first time in Silver’s company, Wes was bored. Mixing
with the movers and shakers from the other side of the bar was not the trip he had imagined it to be. Here he was, surrounded by the rich and famous, and once he got to talking to them, he realized they were just as boring as the rest of the population.

  Carlos Brent was no great wit. Orville Gooseberger talked too much and too loud. Ditto the wife; nobody could shut her up. Mannon Cable was broodingly quiet, and Melanie-Shanna Cable – although a knock-out to look at – didn’t open up her mouth all night.

  Which left Dee Dee Dionne, who was quite charming; Zachary K. Klinger, who monopolized Silver from the moment he sat down; and their hostess, Poppy Soloman – a supercharged bundle of nerves.

  Without exception, everyone had one eye on the door to see if anyone they should know about was exiting or entering. Wes caught on fast. He’d be mid-sentence and their eyes glazed over while their attention wandered. It could make a person feel very insecure. Especially as nobody seemed to give a flying fart what anyone else had to say.

  Silver seemed well taken care of with Zachary Klinger whispering away in her ear, so after the entrée Wes excused himself, and took a walk around, mentally counting the stars. He hadn’t met Whitney Valentine Cable, and since she was the best-looking female in the room, he thought it might make life worthwhile. He caught himself staring as he hovered near her table.

  She smiled at him, brilliant white teeth flashing.

  He walked over and proffered his hand. ‘Wes Money.’

  What a smile she had!

  ‘I know. Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Have you met Chuck Nielson?’

  Yeah. He had met good old Chuck when he’d sold him cocaine at Silver’s party. Only he was just a barman then, and who remembered barmen? Certainly not anyone at this dinner.

  ‘Hey, man.’ Chuck gave him a bone-crushing handshake. ‘You an’ Silver are gonna make each other very, very…’ He trailed off and looked to Whitney for help.

  ‘Happy,’ she said, her dazzling smile still going strong.

  Ida White leaned back in her chair and placed a thin, blue-veined hand on his arm. ‘I hope you’re going to be good to Silver,’ she remarked, nodding her own confirmation. ‘We all love her, you know. She’s one of us. If you can—’

  ‘She’s a pro,’ interrupted Zeppo, spitting out each word like machine-gun bullets. ‘The important thing in Hollywood is to always act like a professional, and Silver does that better than anyone. Except perhaps Elizabeth Taylor, Shirley Maclaine… there’s still a few of’em left. Anyway, Silver has class.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Wes. ‘She sure does.’

  ‘The woman’s a star,’ Zeppo added. ‘One of the last of the truly great stars. You see ’em running around in tee-shirts and sloppy clothes with straggly hair. All the young actresses today look like somebody’s maid.’

  ‘Thank you!’ interjected Whitney.

  ‘Not you,’ Zeppo barked. ‘You look okay, kiddo.’

  ‘And how about me?’ demanded Beverly.

  ‘You’re an original, but you can all learn from Silver,’ Zeppo continued, warming to his theme. ‘Star quality! She had it the first time I saw her nearly thirty years ago. And she’s still got it.’

  For the next fifteen minutes he continued to sing her praises.

  Chuck got up from the table. ‘Wanna smoke?’ he asked Wes.

  Wes nodded, and they headed for the door.

  ‘Let’s take a walk, it’s hot in here,’ Chuck suggested.

  They went down the stairs and out to the street, where Chuck lit up a joint, drew deeply, and handed it over.

  Wes did not wish to look unappreciative, so he took a drag, then passed it back.

  ‘This is grade A shit,’ Chuck stated proudly.

  ‘Yeah,’ Wes agreed. He’d had better, but what did a permanently stoned, out-of-work movie actor know?

  ‘Zeppo White’s a fucking bore,’ Chuck remarked sourly.

  ‘What does he do?’ Wes asked.

  Chuck turned on him in surprise. ‘Are you shittin’ me, man?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m not in the business.’

  ‘Yeah, well Zeppo would have a cardiac arrest if he thought there was someone around who’s never heard of him.’

  ‘I’m that someone.’

  Chuck began to laugh. ‘He’s an agent. He’s the agent, or at least he thinks he is.’

  ‘Is he your agent?’

  ‘I wish. But Zeppo only wants ’em when they’re ridin’ high. Right now he’s Whitney’s agent. An’ don’t think the little turd hasn’t tried to fuck her, because he has.’

  Wes couldn’t conceal his surprise. ‘Zeppo White has fucked Whitney Valentine Cable?’

  ‘Naw… just tried to. Bad enough.’

  ‘He must be at least seventy.’

  ‘So? You think it stops poppin’ when you pass sixty-five?’

  * * *

  ‘I wish you’d leave me alone.’ Silver’s voice was tightly coiled.

  ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

  ‘I told you,’ Zachary replied patiently. ‘It’s been sixteen years and I’ve never forgotten you. Now that I’m free, I want you back.’

  She snorted with laughter. ‘How flattering!’ And then she added sarcastically, ‘But I thought I was too old for you, Zachary. And you’re certainly too old for me.’

  Ignoring her sarcasm he said, ‘I want you, Silver. This time for keeps.’

  She could not believe the nerve of the man. Not to mention the conceit. ‘It may have escaped your notice,’ she said coldly, ‘but this is my wedding dinner. I just got married.’

  ‘And how much do you think it will cost me to get him out of your life? He looks like he comes cheap.’

  ‘You bastard! As far as you’re concerned money buys everyone, doesn’t it? You always thought that.’

  ‘Shall we put it to the test?’ he asked mildly.

  With an exasperated sigh she got up from the table. Wes was nowhere in sight, which infuriated her. She swept off to the ladies’ room.

  Poppy, who was not completely insensitive to atmosphere, jumped up and followed her.

  * * *

  Mannon noticed Chuck was on the missing list and took the opportunity to stop by the next table and greet his ex-wife.

  ‘Hello, Mannon,’ Whitney said guardedly.

  ‘You’re looking well,’ he replied, equally guarded.

  ‘So are you.’

  They hadn’t spoken in months. It made the situation awkward, but Mannon plunged in anyway, although he was sure half the people at the table were trying to overhear, especially Zeppo, who never liked to miss a thing.

  ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about.’

  She played with the base of her wine glass. ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t go into it here.’

  ‘Why not?’

  He indicated the rest of the table. ‘Why do you think not?’

  ‘Hello, Mannon,’ said Ida White, catching his eye.

  ‘Mannon, my boy,’ greeted Zeppo. ‘I hear you’re considering the role Reynolds turned down.’ He wagged a warning finger. ‘You shouldn’t do it. No way.’

  ‘I’m not planning to.’

  ‘Good, good.’

  In the distance Mannon saw Chuck. His fist itched to connect with the slimy creep’s jaw.

  Whitney sensed trouble and quickly said, ‘It was nice seeing you.’ She turned away in the hope that he would leave.

  Chuck approached the table. He looked good until you put him next to Mannon, and then you realized he was just a poor copy.

  ‘Hey – it’s my ole buddy,’ he exclaimed. ‘How’re ya doin’?’

  Mannon did not consider them friends, although they had once been close. He did not even consider that he had to be civilized to the prick, so he ignored him.

  Chuck took this as an insult. ‘What the fuck’s the matter with you?’ he demanded belligerently. ‘Don’t come sniffin’ around Whitney if y’can’t even say he
llo t ’me.’

  Mannon began to walk away.

  Chuck went to stop him with an angry hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Oh, no,’ sighed Whitney. She knew what was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Mannon spun around, removed Chuck’s hand and shoved him hard.

  Chuck kept his balance and automatically struck out. A punch which Mannon countered with style and grace, while his right fist did just what it had been wanting to do all night, and smashed into Chuck’s jaw.

  * * *

  ‘I’ve made a boo-boo, haven’t I?’ asked Poppy.

  Silver, busy applying a liberal amount of lip gloss as she peered in the mirror, said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Zachary,’ persisted Poppy. ‘I shouldn’t have put him next to you.’

  Silver thought about her reply. It was unlikely anyone knew about her affair with Zachary. Sixteen years was a long time, and they had been very discreet because of his marriage. Obviously she had misjudged Poppy. Seating Zachary beside her was probably supposed to be an honour – he was the most influential man in the room.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said dismissively.

  Poppy confirmed what she was thinking. ‘I had no idea you two even knew each other.’

  ‘Oh, we’re old adversaries,’ Silver said vaguely. And then, realizing she should tread carefully, she added, ‘I’ve always found men like Zachary Klinger to be ego-inflated bores.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Poppy, patting her elaborate upswept hairstyle. ‘I can’t stand him. He’s so pompous. I should have given him to Howard’s table, they deserve him.’

  ‘Quite!’ agreed Silver.

  ‘Maybe he’ll leave soon,’ Poppy said hopefully.

  ‘If he doesn’t, I shall.’

  Poppy saw her entire evening falling to pieces. ‘You can’t do that,’ she said in an alarmed voice. ‘You’re the guest of honour.’

  Silver licked her lips, squinted slightly, and took a step backwards to admire the overall effect of her makeup repairs. ‘Yes I can, Poppy,’ she said sweetly. ‘And I will.’

  Before Poppy could plead and beg, which she was fully prepared to do – anything to save her party – Melanie-Shanna came rushing into the ladies’ room, tears streaking her pretty face. ‘I hate her!’ she shrieked. ‘I hate that woman!’