Hollywood Husbands

  When he decided to take a job and start shaping his life, Orville arranged a position for him in the San Francisco offices of Briskinn & Bower. He turned out to be excellent at what he did. P.R. was his vocation.

  After meeting Corey, he felt the time had come to go home, and without delay he bought a house in the Hollywood Hills with some trust money he’d inherited. Setting up housekeeping with Corey was a real challenge. Norman was a grasshopper – he liked the thrill of many different sexual partners. So far he had managed – only just – to remain faithful to Corey.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ Clarissa said softly, allowing her fingers to creep down to the buttons of his shirt.

  Laughing uneasily he tried to figure out what she wanted. Clarissa Browning was a star, an Oscar-winning actress. She had Mannon Cable – what could she possibly want from him?

  ‘You’re very handsome, Norman,’ she said, lightly touching his exposed nipples. ‘It seems to me such a waste…’

  ‘What is?’ His voice cracked. He knew exactly what she meant. In spite of himself he felt a hardness in his pants. My God! She’s actually turning me on! he thought.

  ‘You know what,’ she replied huskily. ‘Don’t you ever wonder about a woman’s body? Oh, I know you can look at pictures if you so desire. But pictures can’t tell you about touch and taste and smell, can they?’

  As she spoke she continued to massage his nipples, and by the time she began to unbutton her blouse he knew he was ready to do whatever she asked. The excitement of the unknown was pounding through his body. Norman Gooseberger was twenty-six years old, and he had never had sex with a woman.

  ‘Take off your clothes,’ she commanded.

  With trembling hands he started to do just that.

  Clarissa opened her blouse as she watched him. She wore no bra, and her breasts were small, with sharply extended nipples. As he stripped off, her eyes never left him. Distractedly she touched herself.

  Now he was naked, and she was still dressed. His hard-on dominated the room.

  ‘Very nice,’ she murmured. ‘I want you to straddle me and touch it to my breasts.’

  He could hardly breathe as he obeyed her request.

  ‘Easy,’ she said, taking his erection in her hands and rubbing it back and forth, the tip playing against her erect nipples. ‘Just take it slow and easy.’

  How could he? All he wanted to do was come, and there was no way he could control it any longer.

  ‘Clarissa – I’m going to—’ Before he could get the word out, it happened. A throbbing, pulsating explosion.

  And as his semen pumped all over her, she smiled – a secret smile. ‘We’ll make a man of you yet, won’t we, Norman?’

  * * *

  The first thing Mannon did when he arrived back in Los Angeles from the Arizona location was to instruct his driver to stop at a hamburger joint and get him two double burgers with everything on. This health kick Clarissa had him on was all very well, but he needed a break. Fuck it, he was doing his best – she couldn’t expect miracles.

  Munching the burgers in the limo on the way to his house, he felt one hundred percent better.

  Arriving home, he marched inside, the conquering hero returning from the wars of location to see his son.

  There was no one to greet him. ‘Where is everyone?’ he hollered.

  The Mexican housekeeper appeared. ‘Meesus Cable, she out.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘He out.’

  Wonderful. He’d rushed home specially, and everyone was out. What a welcome!

  Not only were they out, but they did not return for another two hours. By this time he was furious.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, as Melanie-Shanna entered the house. Behind her stood a uniformed nurse carrying his three-week-old son, Jason. Not waiting for an answer, he rushed over to the nurse and inspected her small charge. ‘Jesus!’ he exclaimed. ‘He looks just like me!’

  Later that night, after he’d spent plenty of time staring at his son and heir, and consumed a hearty roast beef dinner and a couple of scotches, he took a second look at Melanie-Shanna. He had to admit it – she was gorgeous. Of course, Clarissa had taught him that gorgeous wasn’t everything, and he missed her already, but Melanie-Shanna was still his wife, and maybe – until he broke the divorce news – he would be wise to pay her a little attention.

  They had just got into bed when he reached for her. ‘How’re you doing, pretty?’

  Edging away from his touch she replied, ‘Fine, thank you.’

  ‘You fine – me fine – baby fine. It’s good to be home.’

  ‘For how long?’

  He detected hostility in her voice. Was it possible she’d heard about Clarissa and him? Deny it – Deny it and then Deny it.

  ‘Only three days, but the rest of the location’ll pass faster than you can buy yourself a present at Cartier.’

  ‘I want a divorce, Mannon.’

  What? What did she say? Was he losing his hearing? I want a diamond necklace he could understand. I want an emerald ring was easy. But I want a divorce? Come on. That was his line. And he wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet, anyway.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I said’ – her voice was clear and calm – ‘I want a divorce.’

  ‘Are you goddamn crazy?’

  ‘No. I’m perfectly sane.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Have you heard things about me and Clarissa?’

  No reply.

  ‘Have you?’

  No reply.

  ‘You’ve been listening to that cunt Poppy Soloman, haven’t you? Well, I’m here to tell you it’s lies – all goddamn lies.’

  ‘I’ve seen a lawyer.’

  ‘You’ve what?’

  ‘He insisted I shouldn’t allow you back in the house, but I said you’re entitled to spend at least one night with your son.’

  Fury overcame him. ‘WHO IS THIS FUCKING SONOFABITCH? I’LL KILL THE MOTHERFUCKER!’

  ‘I want you out, Mannon. I’m divorcing you, and nothing you say will stop me.’

  He had ranted and screamed, raved and roared. And eventually he’d had to leave for Puerto Vallarta. But not before meeting with his lawyer, who told him it was the best thing that could possibly happen. ‘She’s throwing you out. Can’t you see how much better that looks?’

  No. He couldn’t see it at all. He was very angry.

  Clarissa welcomed him back with a wintry smile and a new constant companion – Norman Gooseberger, who followed her everywhere like an obedient and adoring dog.

  ‘If he wasn’t a fag I’d say he had the hots for you,’ Mannon remarked one day.

  ‘Maybe he’s not gay,’ she replied mysteriously.

  ‘Ha ha! What a joker.’

  And so the filming continued, and Mannon tried to forget about Melanie-Shanna and her unfair behaviour.

  Clarissa helped him slip back into his role. He was soon as spellbound by her as ever.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Christmas shopping was an ordeal Silver was glad she didn’t have to put up with more than once a year. Under sufferance, Wes agreed to go with her, if only to park the Rolls as they went from Neiman Marcus to Saks, and then across the street to Rodeo Drive. It was a California Christmas, the fancy street decorations and the bright sunshine forming an incongruous alliance.

  ‘At least Rodeo is civilized,’ Silver remarked, throwing off benevolent waves of good cheer to all who recognized her. She was in rather a good mood, thanks to the way she had handled the Zachary Klinger situation.

  Zeppo had called her. ‘We’ll have a lunch, kiddo. Just you an’ me.’

  ‘As long as you promise not to jump on me, Zeppo dear.’

  Cackling with amusement he’d said, ‘Don’t think I can’t.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of thinking any such thing. I know you are perfectly capable – you scoundrel, you!’

  Zeppo White thrived
on flattery, and Silver knew how to pile it on.

  Something told her she should make a special effort, so Fernando was summoned to do her hair, and Raoul for her makeup. She chose to wear a devastatingly glamorous Yves Saint Laurent suit.

  Arriving at The Beverly Hills Hotel, for lunch in the Polo Lounge, she looked every inch the star.

  ‘Greetings, Miss Anderson,’ said the maitre d’. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

  ‘Thank you, Pasquale,’ she said imperiously, and swept to booth one, where Zeppo waited.

  Standing up, he said, ‘Gorgeous, kiddo. Ravishing.’

  ‘How kind of you.’

  ‘Kind – bullshit. You’re the last of the great stars, and don’t you ever forget it.’

  ‘I’ll try not to,’ she said modestly.

  ‘What a gal!’

  During the meal – lightly grilled sole for her, a rare steak for him – they discussed her future career. Zeppo had plenty to talk about, but not one firm offer for her to do another movie. Oh yes, there were guest spots on Palm Springs, the NBC special, and talk of a record album, but where were the starring film roles he had promised?

  ‘People gotta see what happens with Romance,’ he explained. ‘When that goes through the ceiling – we name our price.’

  ‘You’re sure of that?’

  ‘Do dogs crap in Central Park?’

  ‘So eloquent.’

  ‘So what? As long as you get the game plan.’ He shifted uncomfortably.

  She had a feeling he wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Unusual for Zeppo.

  And then Zachary Klinger walked in, and she knew why she’d taken such care with her appearance. A confrontation was inevitable. Zeppo, the unscrupulous little turd, had arranged it.

  ‘Silver,’ Zachary greeted her formally.

  ‘Zachary,’ she replied with cool aplomb.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

  Before she could say – Yes, I do mind very much, Zeppo was on his feet. With feigned amazement he peered at his oversize watch. ‘It’s two o’clock. Jesus, kiddo, I’m running late. I’m leaving you in excellent hands – the best. This man is a king!’

  ‘Goodbye, Zeppo.’ She didn’t care to listen to his ass-kissing speech. Enough was enough.

  Zeppo raced off, and Zachary sat down. There was a long silence. Finally he said, ‘Tell me, Silver, what is it going to cost me to get you back?’

  She glanced edgily around the restaurant. ‘Too much for even you to afford.’

  ‘I own Orpheus, you know.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that.’

  ‘I could make you the most famous woman in the world.’

  A hint of sarcasm entered her voice. ‘I’m not doing too badly as it is, thank you very much.’

  ‘If I don’t wish to put Romance out, I don’t have to. What will that do for your career? Everyone will think the film is so bad it can’t be released.’

  Narrowing her eyes she said, ‘Just try it.’

  Taking a Dunhill cigar holder from his pocket, he extracted a fat Cuban cigar and lit up, blowing a steady stream of smoke in her direction. ‘Maybe you’ll force me to.’

  She refused to be intimidated by this man. He had used her. Why did he have to come back after all these years and expect her to fall into his arms?

  ‘Maybe,’ she said coolly.

  He began to laugh. ‘I always admired your spirit, it always excited me.’

  ‘Let this excite you,’ she said evenly. ‘I am married. And I am in love with my husband. So kindly leave me alone with your disgusting threats and blackmail.’

  ‘You’re married to a bum,’ he stated.

  ‘My choice, and I like it.’ Swiftly she rose.

  Putting a restraining hand on her arm he said, ‘I can spend millions to promote Romance, or I can let it languish on a shelf. One night of your company might persuade me to spend the money. Think about it.’

  ‘Goodye, Zachary.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting for your call.’

  Well, she hadn’t called him, she had contacted Carlos Brent instead. In his own peculiar way, Carlos had as much power as Zachary Klinger. It was rumoured he was connected – politically and otherwise.

  ‘Carlos, dear,’ she’d said, glad they were friends again. ‘What would you do if you found out Orpheus might not release Romance because of some whim of Zachary Klinger’s?’

  He’d laughed. ‘Don’t even think about it. Romance will be the hit of the year, I’ll make sure of that.’

  She wasn’t worrying. And she was pleased with the way she’d dealt with Zachary.

  They walked into Giorgio, Silver and Wes. He sat at the private bar in the middle of the store while she tried on everything in sight.

  ‘I thought we were Christmas shopping for other people,’ he said pointedly.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ she replied, choosing a beaded handbag for Nora, plus an assortment of Giorgio scent. Then she decided she had to have the most delicious gold beaded Fabrice gown she had ever seen. It was six thousand dollars. ‘Come and see it, darling,’ she called to him. ‘I’ll wear it on New Year’s Eve.’

  Strolling over, he said, ‘What do I care? It’s your money. Enjoy it.’

  He went back to the bar, and was just settling into a nice cold beer, when a familiar voice exclaimed, ‘Wesley!’ And Reba Winogratsky, his former landlady, was all over him with unwelcome wet kisses and a hug or two.

  Extracting himself – she was like an over-made-up spider – he gave her a lukewarm greeting.

  ‘Wesley! Wesley! Wesley!’ she sighed, with a knowing shake of her head and an affectionate wink. ‘Look what happened to my Wesley.’

  Her Wesley?

  ‘How’s it going, Reba?’ he asked, with more enthusiasm than he felt.

  ‘All the better for seein’ you.’ She spotted Silver emerging from a dressing room and gave an orgasmic yelp. ‘Introduce me, Wesley. Oh my God! Do I look all right?’

  Reba, in a creased beige linen suit – the skirt too short – with bare scorched legs and feet encased in stiletto heels, did not look all right. She looked like a cheap tramp, in spite of the extra-large diamond ring he spotted winking and blinking on her finger.

  Noticing his focus of attention, she waved her hand in front of him. ‘I’m back with my old man – a reconcili-present.’

  ‘Nice,’ he said.

  ‘Introduce me,’ she hissed again.

  Silver strolled over, ignored Reba, and took Wes possessively by the arm. ‘We can move on, darling. I’m all through here.’

  ‘Er… this is Reba,’ he said awkwardly. ‘She wants to meet you.’

  Silver gave her the distant but charming smile reserved for fans. ‘Hello,’ she said – and then promptly ignored her again.

  Reba sprang into action. ‘I looove you in Palm Springs,’ she gushed. ‘And I’m so thrilled you and Wesley have gotten married.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Silver replied coolly.

  ‘Wesley an’ I are old friends,’ Reba continued, tripping over her words as she peered at Silver closely to see if she’d had a face-lift. ‘You could say that we shared a house.’

  Silver’s voice was pure acid. ‘How cosy.’

  ‘Reba was my landlady,’ Wes explained hurriedly, lest she get the wrong impression.

  ‘And more!’ Reba said with a saucy wink. ‘I was separated from my beloved at the time. And of course, Wesley hadn’t met you. And—’

  Silver’s eyes glittered dangerously as she interrupted Reba in full swing. ‘Do excuse us, we’re running late.’ With a stony expression she swept towards the entrance of the store.

  Wes shrugged as he went to follow her. ‘Bye-bye, Reba.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked spitefully, blocking his way. ‘Aren’t I good enough to talk to movie stars?’

  ‘Sure you are,’ he replied easily, trying to dodge past her. ‘Only we’ve got a lot of ground to cover today.’

  A thin smile sp
read across her face, cracking her carelessly applied makeup. ‘Pay the money you owe, Wesley. The big boys are impatient. I wouldn’t screw with them if I was you. It’s gettin’ dangerous.’

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  The New Year’s Eve invitations were sent out three days before Christmas, arriving in most homes on Christmas Eve.

  Beautifully embossed, and printed on white cards with festive red lettering, they read:

  Zachary K. Klinger

  requests

  the pleasure of your company

  for a

  New Year’s Eve cruise

  on

  December 31

  1985

  Within hours it was known to be the hottest event of the year, and if you hadn’t received an invitation – forget it! Leave town. Crawl under a stone. Kill yourself!

  Only fifty invitations were sent out. Zachary had decided that only fifty couples would get lucky. One hundred choice people to see the New Year in with him.

  Since Zachary Klinger was one of the richest men in the world, plus he owned a Hollywood movie studio, nobody could afford to turn his invitation down. Zachary had decided that at the party he would announce plans for Orpheus to film a remake of the classic All About Eve. The coveted Bette Davis role was a part Silver would kill for. He should have known blackmail wouldn’t work, but she was an actress after all, and if the bait was right, maybe he could win her back that way. It was worth a try. And a magnificent party was a small price to pay to gain her attention.

  Beverly D’Amo had a great time checking out the guest list with Zachary’s fleet of efficient secretaries. She made sure Jade and Corey were included, and then, with a wicked grin, double-checked to ascertain whether Jack Python’s name was on the list. It was. Frankly, she saw no harm in getting the two of them together again. After the things Jade had told her she figured they must really be something as a duo. Not that Jade had revealed any gory details – sexual descriptions were not her style. However, by listening to what she hadn’t said, Beverly knew instinctively they should give each other another chance. There was nothing she would like better than to see her friend settled with the right guy.

  ‘Why are you having this party?’ she asked Zachary.