Chapter Seventy-Four
‘Have you noticed the way he watches me?’ Silver asked Nora edgily, as they sat in her dressing room eating a light lunch.
Nora picked an olive out of her salad and put it to one side. ‘They should only allow those things in drinks,’ she grumbled.
‘Listen to me when I’m speaking to you,’ Silver said authoritatively. ‘Zachary Klinger can’t take his eyes off me.’
‘I’d be flattered if I was you.’
‘You are not me – thank God! And stop being so flippant.’
Nora crunched on a lettuce leaf. ‘The man had an affair with you. He’s never forgotten it. That’s not such a crime, is it?’
‘You don’t know Zachary. When he wants something, he always gets it. He was like that when I was with him before, and he wasn’t as powerful then as he is now.’
‘So?’
‘He makes me nervous.’
Nora swallowed a laugh. The thought of Silver Anderson nervous about anything was too ridiculous to contemplate. Silver ate people for breakfast, and spat them out half-digested. On this film she had already seen to it that three crew members were fired because she didn’t like their ‘attitude’.
‘You’ll get a reputation for being difficult,’ Nora had warned her.
‘Professional,’ Silver had corrected. ‘There is a difference, you know.’
Silver thought everyone on the film loved her. Some of them did. Some of them didn’t. Right now the crew was split into three camps – Silver’s, Carlos Brent’s, and Orville Gooseberger’s. The poor director didn’t have a chance. He just shot the script and hoped for the best.
That afternoon there was a heavy love scene scheduled between Silver and Carlos.
Nora watched her pop a piece of raw garlic in her mouth and suck on it. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, as if she didn’t know.
‘It’s so good for the blood,’ Silver replied innocently.
‘Breathe it over Zachary,’ Nora remarked. ‘That’ll get rid of him forever.’
‘You’re not taking this seriously,’ Silver scolded. ‘What if he decides to… do something to Wes?’
This time Nora did laugh aloud. ‘I’d like to see anyone do anything to Mr Money that he doesn’t want done. Your husband can look after himself. Of that I’m sure.’ She pushed the salad away and reached for a cigarette. ‘And talking of family, how long is it since you’ve seen Heaven? It’s her birthday next week, you know.’
‘She’s not a child,’ Silver responded sharply. ‘The phone works both ways. She could have congratulated me on my marriage.’
‘Did you invite her?’
Abruptly Silver stood up. ‘Are you trying to aggravate me? Is that it? Sometimes, Nora dear, you’re a real pain.’
Nora drew deeply on her cigarette. The mystery of Silver and her daughter continued to confound her. Whatever the circumstances of the child’s birth, flesh was flesh, and Silver had kept Heaven with her until she was ten. ‘Shall I send her a present from you?’ she inquired.
‘Do what you like.’
Nora decided to mention it to Wes. Maybe he could persuade Silver to change her attitude. Now that they had been married for a few months, Nora found she was changing her opinion of him. He had certainly done wonders for his wife’s career. And so far all her hard-earned cash was still intact.
Wes Money – the mystery man – could turn out to be a surprise winner after all.
* * *
The eruption took place the moment they clung together in romantic bliss.
‘Goddammit!’ screamed Carlos Brent. ‘The fucking bitch has got a mouthful of fucking garlic!’
‘Language! Language!’ chided Silver, infuriating her co-star even more.
Orville, hovering on the set as was his habit, leaped into the fray. ‘Carlos. I’m sure you’re mistaken.’
‘Mistaken, for crissake. You can smell the fucking bitch from here to Palm Springs!’
Zachary K. Klinger stepped out of the shadows. ‘I hardly think that’s a gentlemanly way to address Miss Anderson,’ he said menacingly.
‘Go fuck yourself,’ snapped Carlos. ‘Who gives a shit what you think?’
Zachary, who was only a few years older than Carlos Brent, but at least four inches taller and fifty pounds heavier, hauled off and hit him straight on the chin.
Carlos staggered and fell.
An amazed silence took over the set.
Silver broke it with a small, triumphant laugh. ‘Well,’ she said succinctly. ‘I guess that takes care of shooting for today. Can we all go home, please, Orville, dear?’
* * *
‘Where are you from?’ Wes asked curiously.
‘Why do you want to know?’ Unity replied.
He sat on a corner of her desk in wet swim-shorts. ‘Is it a secret?’
‘Virginia,’ she replied shortly.
‘I’ve never been there,’ he said, sizing her up and deciding that whatever her reasons she was lying. ‘Do you still have family living there?’
‘No family,’ she said shortly. ‘They all got it in a train wreck. I came to California with a man. He left me. End of life story.’
‘Pretty exciting stuff.’
‘Yeah. Do you think they’ll buy it for the movies?’ she said sarcastically. ‘It’d be a natural for Sissy Spacek. She plays all the losers, doesn’t she?’
Regarding her warily he wondered what was going to happen to her. This time he’d been around to give her a helping hand. It wasn’t always going to be that way.
Outside, in the garden, Vladimir tried to see what was going on in the pool house. Ever since Madame’s husband had brought that girl home, saying she was his cousin, Vladimir had harboured a deep suspicion. He thought they might be lovers. He thought they could be planning to murder Madame and run off with all her money.
This was America.
Anything could happen.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Jack awoke with a sudden jolt, automatically groped for his watch, and realized it was only four in the morning and he was not alone. Jade was asleep beside him. She lay on her side, her arms stretched languorously above her head, the sheet tangled around her waist.
The window shade was up, and a misty dawn filtered through the windows casting a faint morning light.
Leaning back against the headboard he watched her intently as she lay motionless. God! She was so beautiful and desirable. There was something about her that really reached out to him. And it wasn’t just a sexual attraction, although the sex was incredible. Instinctively he knew Jade Johnson was destined to be much more than just a great time in bed. He had known it the first time he saw her.
Stirring in her sleep, she shifted slightly.
‘Hey,’ he said, very softly. ‘Are you awake?’
‘Mmmm…’ she murmured, still fast asleep.
Gently he reached out and touched her breasts, lightly caressing her nipples.
‘Mmmm…’ she sighed again.
Caught up in the sharp burn of desire, he felt as if he hadn’t been with a woman in months, and yet, only a few hours ago, they had made love twice with hardly a pause for breath.
Christ! He, who usually had such admirable control, was ready for lift-off almost immediately.
Sliding down beside her, he let his hands roam her body, as his insistent hardness pressed up against her cool, smooth skin.
She was asleep – but she felt him.
She was asleep – but she wanted him.
How little she knew of Jack Python, and yet already he was an addiction. Her eyelids fluttered – almost awake… almost.
He teased her breasts with his tongue – slowly – surely – small strokes destined to stimulate and excite her.
What was it about this man? Arousal was immediate.
Stretching luxuriously she whispered, ‘Is it morning?’
‘I guess if you usually have breakfast around four a.m. we can consider this morning.’
/> ‘Oh, no! Why are you waking me?’
His laugh was husky contentment. ‘Take an educated guess, beautiful lady.’
She felt a deep flood of pleasure, and opened up to allow this intimate stranger to transport her to the edge of ecstasy.
He was filled with pure energy as they began the incredible ride.
Almost immediately she was swept away, her breathing constricted, a rush of voluptuous sensuality waiting to explode.
Usually he could wait. It was a trick, a game. Making love was an art.
And yet, with Jade, he couldn’t even consider waiting. They were so in tune, and conscious of each other’s every need.
He rode her with a compelling exquisite certainty. They were heading in the same direction… Breathing the same intoxicating air…
‘Ohhh… God! This… is… sooo fantastic…’
A sudden jolting rush.
A simultaneous shudder of satisfaction.
And then a slow, dreamy drift back to sleep, once again wrapped contentedly in each other’s arms. Two soulmates who had finally found each other.
* * *
‘Good morning.’ Jade ventured onto the set, fully made up with her hair done, ready to shoot the second batch of Cloud commercials. She’d had two hours’ sleep, but it didn’t matter. Everything about her was alive and glowing.
Shane Dickson threw her a stony look. ‘Feeling better?’ he asked sarcastically.
‘I’m sorry about rushing off last night,’ she said apologetically. ‘I couldn’t help it.’
Shane was a picture of jealous fury. ‘Was he as good as his reputation?’ he asked bitterly.
She ignored the question.
‘I’m surprised at you,’ he said incredulously. ‘Miss Commitment and Caring. According to Kellie – who was completely humiliated by the entire incident – Jack Python sticks it into anything that doesn’t struggle.’
She refused to be baited into a conversation about Jack. Maybe she was dreaming, but as far as she was concerned, from now on he belonged to her, and she belonged to him.
Not that they’d discussed it. In fact they hadn’t discussed anything at all. Just savoured the unlimited pleasures of each other’s body. In the early morning she’d had to leave while he still slept. A cab took her home to change, and then a car picked her up and delivered her to the studio, where she’d sat dreamily in the makeup room thinking about him.
She smiled. A big, satisfied smile which irritated Shane even more.
‘Wipe that dumb grin off your face,’ he said brusquely. ‘Today we’re shooting the dream sequence.’
She didn’t feel at all like working. She just felt like smiling and singing and looning about.
Was it like this with the English asshole at first?
She couldn’t remember. In fact she couldn’t remember one damn thing about Lord Mark Rand, except that he was married, and a liar.
* * *
She was gone.
He groped for her cool velvet body and found that she was no longer there.
Jack got up and investigated. She was not in the bathroom. Her clothes, left trailing across the living room floor last night, were missing. The lady – as the saying goes – had vanished.
Disappointment flooded over him. And then he found her note in the kitchen, propped against the toaster, and the moment he read it he felt great.
Good morning. Thank you for putting a smile on my face that will probably stay there until I die! If I was with you now I’d make you toast, or maybe I’d just make you… Gone to work to shoot a commercial. I’ll be home after seven. If you want me to, I’ll cook for you.
JADE
He was doing his show later, and the guest was an interesting and controversial senator. Last night, after dinner with Kellie, he had planned to read a lengthy bio on the man. Now he couldn’t even concentrate on getting dressed, let alone anything else.
Throwing on clothes, he headed for the studio, where he immediately instructed Aretha to send six dozen yellow roses to Jade Johnson.
‘Is this persuasion or thanks?’ Aretha asked jauntily.
‘Don’t be so inquisitive.’
‘Any message along with the flowers?’
‘Just say ‘And you cook too?’ Have them put a question mark and an exclamation point.’
Aretha rolled her eyes knowingly. ‘My, oh my! I guess that answers the question!’
‘Oh, and have somebody call that French actress we had on – you know who I mean.’
‘Big bazoombas and a frog in her throat?’
‘You got it. In fact, do me a favour and call her yourself. Lie a lot on my behalf. Tell her I can’t make dinner tonight.’
Aldrich hurried into the office looking harried, his usual expression on the day of a show. ‘Have you read all the material?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Honey,’ sighed Aretha, ‘the only thing this man read last night was the stars in his lady’s eyes!’
* * *
‘It’s not going to work,’ Shane said shortly. ‘Can’t you at least try?’
‘I am trying,’ Jade replied patiently. He had been on her case all day.
‘You’re supposed to look ethereal and dreamy. Why are you grinning like a fucking Cheshire Cat?’
They both knew only too well why she was grinning, and it wasn’t helping matters.
‘Imagine something serious,’ he said sternly. ‘Like getting AIDS or the clap. That’s what happens when you sleep with a person who fucks like he’s on an assembly line.’
The smile disappeared from her face. ‘That’s an uncalled-for, dumb remark.’
‘Think about it,’ he repeated vehemently. ‘I’m only telling you what everybody in this town already knows.’
‘No. You think about this,’ she said furiously. ‘I’m the star of this commercial. You’re the director. You can be replaced – I can’t.’
She hadn’t planned on being quite so forthright, but he’d been asking for it all day.
After her outburst, they finally got some work done, and she was able to get out of there just after six. Instructing her driver to stop at the Irvine Ranch Market in the Beverly Center, she bought thin slices of veal, potatoes and vegetables, butter pecan ice cream, a rich chocolate cake, and two bottles of wine.
Gathering an armful of fresh flowers, she rushed home, where she was surprised by an apartment full of glorious yellow roses, placed in vases by her cleaning lady – and Jack’s voice on her answering machine. Listening to his message three times, she glowed with delight.
How was it possible to be this crazy this fast?
She didn’t know and she didn’t care.
I’m doing the show today, said his voice on the machine. And after that I can’t think of anything I’d like more than you cooking for me. A pause. Yes, as a matter of fact I can. Let’s forget about food. I’ll see you later.
He had a great voice. A great everything else.
She put Springsteen on the stereo, and without a trace of tiredness began to unpack the groceries.
Chapter Seventy-Six
‘I gotta fly to Arizona,’ Howard announced disgustedly.
‘Why?’ Poppy demanded.
‘Because Whitney Valentine is trying out for cunt of the year.’
Poppy pursed her lips. ‘You know I don’t like that word, Howard.’
‘Sometimes there’s just no substitute.’
‘Try and find one,’ she said sternly.
‘Back off, Poppy. I’m not in the mood for your “holier than thou” number.’
One thing about Poppy, she knew exactly how far she could go, and when he told her to back off she did so at once.
‘I’ve had a day that was pure murder from beginning to end,’ he grumbled, and proceeded to tell her about the Silver/Carlos/Zachary incident on the set.
Her eyes widened. ‘Zachary Klinger actually hit Carlos Brent?’
‘Punched him right out.’
‘What’s going to happen?’
‘Guess who spent the afternoon sorting it out?’
‘You, of course.’
‘Right on. Silver started it all. Another cunt.’
‘Howard!’
He held up a restraining hand. ‘Okay, okay, no more cunts.’
‘Is everyone speaking?’
‘Barely. Carlos is threatening to walk – and he can do it – you know the kind of temper he has. The good thing is that he needs us more than we need him. What other studio is gonna give a burnt-out bum like him the lead in a twenty-million-dollar movie?’
‘Oh, Howard,’ Poppy exclaimed, little-girl voice in full swing. ‘You’re so clever!’
Poppy knew how to trowel on the flattery just when it was needed.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘we had to stop shooting for the rest of the day, and hopefully, by tomorrow, all will be calm.’
‘Shouldn’t you be here to make sure?’
‘You bet your ass I should. But we’ve got bigger problems on The Murder. If I don’t get down there and get Whitney’s ass back in gear, that production’s gonna have to stop. She’s only playing a cameo role, but all her stuff takes place on the location shoot in Arizona.’
‘And what’s she doing?’
‘Pretending to be sick, which is bull. She’s pissed off because Mannon and Clarissa are steamin’ up the screen.’
‘Isn’t Chuck with her?’
‘He was. And yesterday they had another fight and he took off. That’s when the – uh – that’s when she supposedly got sick and took to her bed.’
‘It’s so unfair,’ Poppy wailed. ‘All these problems, and only you to solve them.’
‘I’ll do it,’ he said bravely, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to fling a fast fuck into Whitney. God knows, he’d waited long enough.
‘Shall I pack you an overnight bag?’ Poppy asked, the concerned wife.
‘You’d better. I shouldn’t be gone for more than twenty-four hours.’
He was on the company plane shortly afterwards.
Poppy, left to her own devices, called Carmel to find out Orville’s version of the story. Then she reported the entire event to Ida, who already knew, and couldn’t have cared less anyway.