Lovers and Gamblers (22 page)

‘Like – wow!’ shrieked Bobbie. ‘Who you want me to pretend to be? Charlie Chaplin?’ She imitated Chaplin’s walk, then collapsed laughing on the floor.

Lew Margolis didn’t smile. ‘Downstairs. In my study. I will be a dentist.’ He stared at Dallas. ‘You will be the patient. Mrs. M. And you—’ he indicated Bobbie, ‘just announce her.’

‘Sounds like fun…’

They followed him downstairs, Bobbie making faces behind his back. He went into his study, closed the door.

‘This dude is fuckin’ nuts,’ whispered Bobbie, ‘a real head case. He wants us to look like his fuckin’ wife! Why, I bet it’s her clothes we got on. I bet…’

‘Announce her,’ shouted Lew, from behind the closed door.

Bobbie knocked, waited for his ‘Come in.’

‘Mrs. M. for her dental appointment, sir.’

‘Show her in.’

Dallas walked into the study. On the desk the photographs were face down.

‘Sit down, Mrs. M.,’ said Lew pleasantly, indicating a chair. ‘Nurse, help Mrs. M. to get comfortable. Take her jacket.’

Bobbie helped Dallas off with her jacket. Lew had removed his orange bathrobe and was wearing a white dental coat and nothing else. ‘Wait outside, nurse. I’ll call if I need you.’

Bobbie went out, shut the door.

‘Lean back, Mrs. M. I’ll just have a look at your teeth, see that everything’s all right. Now, open your mouth wide.’

Dallas did as she was told. Then suddenly he leapt on a stool next to the chair and jammed his penis into her mouth. It was unexpected. She gagged, nearly choking.

‘Take it easy, Mrs. M.,’ he said soothingly. ‘It’s what you come here for, isn’t it? Everyone knows. Everyone. Even your husband. It’s the talk of Beverly Hills, how you’re fucking around on your husband. You whore!’

They stayed three hours, collecting a total of nine hundred dollars. And they played doctor, hairdresser, dressmaker, head waiter, gynaecologist, gardener. And every game ended with his little speech about Mrs. M. wanting it, getting it, and everyone knew, even her husband.

Driving them home Bobbie said, ‘Now there is a dude with some problem. Do you think the wife is out fuckin’ everything in sight?

‘I don’t know and I don’t care. I just hope I never have to see him again.’

* * *

Lew Margolis stood up from behind his marble desk. ‘Come in, sit down. Cody has told me lots of good things about you.’

Slowly Dallas walked into the office. He hadn’t recognized, her – yet. But then of course she had the protection of her hat and shades. When she took those off…

More than anything she felt bad about Cody finding out. He would feel so let down. She should have told him. But how did you casually reveal an item of information like that? Oh, by the way, Cody, forgot to mention it, it’s probably not important anyway, but I used to be a hooker. Worked doubles with a stoned black kid, we must’ve laid half of Hollywood.

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Cody was saying excitedly. ‘Didn’t I warn you she was sensational? And who could be more right for the part?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Lew, ‘she is a lovely girl. How old are you, dear?’

‘Twenty.’ She took off her shades and stared at him, just as she had stared at the dentist, and the hairdresser, and the gynaecologist.

‘Perfect age.’ He looked her up and down. ‘Perfect everything.’

‘Thank you.’ With one gesture she removed the Stetson, and shook her mane of hair free.

‘Has she done anything?’ Lew asked Cody. ‘Is there any film on her we could see?’

‘An Al King television special and a commercial,’ replied Cody quickly. ‘I can arrange for you to see them within the hour.’

‘Yes,’ said Lew, ‘but I imagine she photographs like she looks.’

‘On camera she’s even better.’

‘I don’t know about the name…’

‘It’s unusual.’

‘Yes, it’s unusual. Ever acted, Dallas?’

She removed her jacket. Surely he would remember now? ‘I’ve acted quite often. I’ve been told I’m very good.’

‘We’ll see about that. You certainly look the part. Why don’t you run over to costume and make-up. We’re all set to shoot a test on you. All right with you, Cody?’

‘Fine, Mr. Margolis.’

‘You go with her. If the test hits the spot we’re in business.’

Cody stood and extended his hand. ‘I think we’re going to be in business, Mr. Margolis.’

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a dream. Dallas didn’t think she would have got through it if it weren’t for Cody. He didn’t leave her side, encouraging, admiring, boosting her confidence. And all the while she waited for Lew Margolis to suddenly remember.

He didn’t. Anyway, if he did, it appeared to make no difference.

She tested, doing three different scenes which she had to learn there and then. Cody led her through every word. ‘Unless you’re the worst actress in the world the part is yours,’ he confided, ‘and when they see the test and realize how great you are, that’s when I get called back to the big man’s office. And that, sweetheart, is when schmucky little agent, yours truly, Cody Hills, shafts them right between the two big ones. We go for broke. A million-dollar deal or nothing. That’s when you have to hang in there and trust me. They’ll kick, but in the end they’ll pay. And they can afford to.’

‘Whatever you say, Cody. By the way, is Lew Margolis married?’

‘Where have
you
been? He’s married to Doris Andrews. So you have no worries about bed being part of the deal. Why? He hand out any horny vibes?’

‘No, not at all. I just wondered.’

‘Wonder no more. Doris Andrews keeps a twenty-four-hour eye on Lew and him on her. No, you’ve got no problems with him – he’s straight.’

Poor misinformed Cody. Lew never could tell him because by revealing her, he would reveal himself. Dallas sighed. Why couldn’t things be nice and simple?

Two days later, as Cody had predicted, they called him in to negotiate. He told them what he wanted. They told him to forget it.

Three days later Dallas signed a million-dollar deal to star in
Man Made Woman
.

It was an option deal, but if they picked up on all options, and there was no reason to suppose that the series wouldn’t be a giant smash, then, as Cody comfortingly told her, she would not only be a huge star, but rich as well, with every opportunity to do the one movie a year her contract allowed.

It was an exciting time. Much more exciting than winning some stupid beauty contest.

Cody could not conceal his absolute delight and went around the entire time grinning from ear to ear.

‘I’m giving up the agency business,’ he informed her. ‘Going into production.’

‘Production?’ she questioned. ‘Production what?’

‘
Our
production company. You concentrate on becoming a star. I’ll concentrate on finding you the right property for your first movie.’

‘Hey, mister, hang on there. I may be a big flop.’

‘
Man Made Woman
will top the ratings. First season, you’ll see.’

‘Your confidence is very reassuring.’

He took her hand, held it tightly. ‘Stick with me, it’s catching. Even my mother thinks you’re going to be a star.’

‘I’m going to try, God knows I’m going to try. I’ve dreamed about a chance like this.’

‘So has my mother!’

She couldn’t help laughing. Cody, it seemed, could always make her laugh. She had started to lean on him, turning to him for advice on everything. He was looking at houses for her, something small to start off with, and then who knows? She had put herself entirely in his hands business-wise. But she trusted him absolutely. After all, he had started the whole thing.

Cody Hills was the first man she had ever respected. Perhaps because from the very beginning he had always treated her nicely. No heavy come-on. No sexual hassle.

Maybe sex with Cody might mean something. There had been no one since Kip Rey, and that had not been a happy scene. She didn’t crave sex, she didn’t even think about it. But she did want to let Cody know she was grateful for everything he had done. And to her way of thinking, sex was the only way to say thank you. So that evening, when they were enjoying a celebratory dinner, she suggested he come back to the hotel and spend the night.

‘Who, me?’ protested Cody. ‘Me and you? The princess and the frog?’

‘Frog? Are you stupid? You’re a very attractive man.’

‘I am?’

‘You am.’

‘I’ll probably kick myself black and blue in the night, but right now I don’t think we should complicate our warm and businesslike relationship with things that go grope in the night.’

‘Are you saying no?’

‘I am saying that you ask me again when things are not as bright as they are now. When you’re tired, and fed up with being at the studio six a.m. five days a week, and pissed with your vacation time because it’s not long enough, and sick of posing for publicity stills, and…’

‘Are you…?’

‘I am not a fag,’ he interrupted, ‘and if we slept together my mother would find out and expect us to get married or something sloppy like that. Let’s put it this way – something special is worth waiting for. So, please, can you wait…’

‘
Funny!
’ She laughed until tears swelled her eyes. And she understood he wanted more than sex, and he wanted her to know that.

‘Now that we’re nearly rich,’ he said, deftly changing the subject, ‘how do you think I’d look with a hair transplant?’

‘Horrible!’ laughed Dallas, ‘I like you just the way you are.’

* * *

A week after the contract was signed Lew Margolis summoned her into his office. He smiled warmly, asked her to sit down, offered her a drink. Then, from the floor behind his desk he picked up a bundle of women’s clothes and flung them at her.

‘Put these on, million-dollar cunt,’ he said, still smiling.

She should have known when she walked into his office. The photo frames on the marble table were all turned face down.

What would happen if he died out in the middle of the Atlantic ocean? Drowned, whilst two stoned little rich girls rocked and rolled on their private speedboat, unconcerned about his fate.

What would Paul say when they arrived back without him? What would Edna say? And the newspapers of course would have a marvellous time.

Grimly he swam on, the pain in his side getting stronger and stronger. But fortunately the wind seemed to have dropped a bit, and he did appear to be making some progress towards the boat. He could hear his own voice echoing raunchily from the tape recorder. ‘Random Love’ again. His first big hit. How long ago that all seemed. Must be ten years. His first television appearance on a pop show to promote the record. A live audience of randy groupies. They had stormed the stage and tried to rip his clothes off.

Girls. Girls. Girls. From that moment on there had been a constant supply. What was it about fame that attracted women? He didn’t flatter himself that it just happened to him. He had seen a wizened old comedian who could command the instant attention and availability of the most beautiful of girls. He had seen a very famous politician, fat and grotesque, who regularly bedded every female in his path.

It wasn’t flattering to be aware of the fact that you could have any one you chose
only
because you were famous. If he was Al King, road digger, he would hardly be out here, drowning, with the fabulously rich Kurlnik twins. And he would not have been invited back to Marjorie Carter’s body. Oh no.
That
type of woman wouldn’t second glance him, however good-looking he was. And he was thirty-seven years old. According to all the books he had read on the subject he was past his sexual prime.

The hell he was.

He had reached the boat, and he hung onto the side, too exhausted to haul himself aboard. The cramp gradually subsided, and wearily he pushed himself up the ladder and into the boat.

The Kurlnik twins were on the mattresses at the back, their bodies entwined. Oblivious to all else they were making love to each other.

Al stared in disgust. He could have drowned, and all they cared about was each other.

Angrily he slid into the driver’s seat and gunned the Riva into action. It shot off, nearly dislodging the girls on the back.

Cara crawled to the front of the boat, her eyes blazing. ‘You stupid bastard!’ she yelled
. ‘You could have drowned us!’

They left Fire Island later that afternoon.

‘I don’t understand,’ Linda complained, ‘I thought we were staying the night. What’s the problem?’

Paul shrugged. ‘I’ve given up asking Al for reasons. Something must have happened while they were out skiing. He’s burning, just leave him alone.’

‘Don’t I always?’

‘You know what I mean. Stay out of his way. No photos.’

‘Yes, sir.’

They returned to New York and Al closeted himself in his hotel suite. ‘No calls, no birds, no games. I just want some peace.’

‘I’ll hang around,’ Paul volunteered.

‘No way, baby brother. I want to be alone.’

‘What happened out there?’ asked Paul, as curious as Linda.

‘Nothing important,’ stated Al blankly, ‘that’s the whole goddamn trouble – nothing important.’

‘They seemed like nice girls…’

‘Piss off, Paul. I don’t need conversation.’

‘I’ll be around if you need me.’

‘I don’t. I’m going to sleep. Wake me an hour before we have to leave tomorrow.’

‘If you’re sure… Luke will be outside if you want anything.’

‘I know that.’

Reluctantly Paul left. This was a mood of Al’s he had never encountered before. Al wanting to spend a night by himself – unheard of. Especially at the peak of his success.

When Al was alone he phoned Edna. He hadn’t spoken to her since Canada. Suddenly he missed his home, his son, even his wife.

‘Hello,’ she was anxious as always, ‘is everything all right, Al?’

‘Of course if s all right. Hasn’t there been anything in the papers there?’

‘Oh yes, the newspapers are full of you. Pictures, write-ups. I’m sticking them in the scrapbook.’