“Oh no. Please! Don’t
think that! We’ve not been talking too long. Do you know? I have been waiting
almost a year now to hear your voice and ... trying to track you down.”
Nicki
trembled and held the receiver a short distance from her ear as she alternately
watched street activity through the front bay window and checked her shopping
bag brown reflection in the large wall mirror. The auburn rinse and lightener
her hairdresser added to her small curls made her dark skin shine and increased
her satisfaction with her hair length that gently touched her shoulders
when she moved her head. She sucked in her tummy, ran her hands down her
buttocks, searching for unsmooth curves, and turned slowly as she checked
her full figure: front, slowly to profile and finally from the rear.
She
flicked a diamond earring and shook her head slowly admiring each side
of her face, the dangle and sparkle. Maybe these diamonds are the only
tangible assets I’ll own when I come out of this marriage to him: Jo...Jo
Simple, her lips said with silent voice. Most likely, she thought
and yawned. She smiled and opened her mouth sparingly. Her presentation
and manner were indeed what Hollywood needed.
The
voice on the other end of the telephone interrupted. “I’m very pleased
that you guys wanted to get in touch with me ... ”
“Well
it’s not Jo and I, you understand, not both of us. By the way, do you know
my first name is Nicki?”
“Yes.”
“Good
then, all my close friends call me Nicki, and now that we’re finally in
touch, you call me Nicki, too. OK?” She held the receiver tightly as she
gave her full attention to the three women walking leisurely and yet, she
decided, with some purpose, on the opposite side of the street. Those
large pepper trees shadow them too much. Who are those women? I
haven’t seen them in this area. Ever. Hm? “Yes, of course. I understand.”
“ ...
and so I’ll let you know when I arrive if that will be satisfactory with
you?”
“Sure.
It certainly will. This will really be a surprise for Jo. I mean really
a surprise. And that’s the way I want it to be. Do you agree? Do you understand?”
“I think that will be fine, that is, if he doesn’t object.”
“No.
He won’t object. I know he won’t. This must be a surprise birthday present
for him. He speaks fondly of you every once in a while. But, I get the
impression he doesn't remember you too well. I can meet you at the airport
... ”
“Really?”
“Really,”
Nicki said. The shorter of the three women pointed in three different directions
as though giving directions. Nicki quickly understood the woman pointed
to her condominium and if she could see through Nicki’s front, bay window,
she could have pointed directly at Nicki. Nicki guessed, the stranger also
pointed to the Grayson residence. A good guess, she thought, as
the tallest woman headed toward the Grayson house. She couldn't take her
eyes off a thin younger woman who walked directly toward her house. She’s
coming here. I know it. If she maintains her course she’ll run right into
me. Nicki laughed at her own words. The woman walked slowly up the
sidewalk to the front gate. Nicki waited for the doorbell to sound.
“ ...
and I appreciate your offer to meet me at the airport. It’s not necessary,
Nicki. I’ll come to your place now that I know where you live. I’ll take
a cab” He paused. “A personal question, if I may.”
“What?” Nicki asked
as she heard the chimes.
“How are you and Jo
getting along? Is it as bad between you two as the gossip columns say?”
“The
gossip columns?” she said and laughed. “Well, nearly, if one is to be honest.
We'll divorce before too long. It's too bad, really. I still love Jo. I
love him a lot. He’s withdrawn and moody, periodically. Sometimes he’s
a little boy and other times, well, I’d rather not talk about the other
times. You may see it when you arrive.”
“I understand.
I’m sorry.” Neither spoke as the chimes sounded again. Nicki walked to
the front door and looked outside. She opened the small circular window
and said, “Just a minute,” to her caller. She looked through the window
at the dark-haired woman. “Hello, how can I help you?” She looked through
the clear stained glass at a pretty young woman who stood beyond the front
gate, several feet from the door.
“I would
like to talk to you,” the voice pleaded.
“I’ve got to go now,
too. Sounds like you’ve got company, Nicki.”
“Not really. Call me
when your plans are final. I’ll make special arrangements with Jo and we’ll
spring the surprise on him. OK? Is there a chance you can be here by this
Sunday?”
“There’s
a chance. Everything sounds good, Nicki. Nice talking to you.”
“Yes. It's been a pleasure
to hear your voice after all this time.” She pressed the telephone's OFF
button, laid the telephone down, and turned her attention to the woman
in the front of her house. Nicki asked, “What do you need to talk about?
Who are you?” Nicki stepped backward to peer out her front window again.
She couldn’t see the other tall woman, but the shorter lady entered Lydia
Freeman’s house across the street. Hm? Who are these women? “Taking
a survey?” she said. She listened to her voice. She realized the woman
spoke and she hadn’t been listening.
“ ... and so I’ve had
to seek employment. About the only thing I’m good for is cleaning and maintaining
a home. My husband hurt his back and hasn't ... ”
Nicki pressed the entry
button and opened the front door. The metal gate, painted white, opened
inward slowly. “Did you see my ad in the paper?” Nicki asked.
“No ma'am,” the woman
said preoccupied with the doorbell on the gate.
Nicki
noticed the woman's fascination. “Yes, it’s a doorbell. My idea.”
“Yes,
I like it,” the woman said as she shut the gate, turned and walked slowly
up the concrete stairs painted pink. She stepped quietly across the small
porch. She cleared her throat and coughed. “I’ve been walking in this neighborhood.”
“How
long? Since this morning? Do you know it’s after three now?”
“No ma'am. I know it’s
late, but....” She frowned and cleared her throat again.
“Come
in. Come in,” Nicki reverting to her normal gracious self. A pretty lady
like you shouldn’t be out in the heat of the day. Please,” she said ushering
her inside. “The trees here help with shade, but.... Could I get you some
water?” Nicki closed the front door. “Oh, I like your cologne. It is cologne,
isn’t it? What is it?” Nicki said and motioned for the woman to follow
her.
“Not
expensive, ma'am. From the drug store.”
“Are
you feeling all right? You look pale, darling. Come into the kitchen with
me.”
“Are you sure, ma'am?”
Nicki
turned and glared at the younger woman, opening her eyes wide. “I don’t
know what you mean. Am I sure?”
“You
don’t know me, ma’am. And I don’t know you.”
“What is your name?”
“Sylvia
Merrill.”
“You
look Latin. Are you?”
“Yes.
My husband is how I get the name Merrill.”
“Ah. Well then, Sylvia,
you don’t look like a crook to me or even strong enough to be dangerous.
And, besides number one, I consider myself a judge of people with good
intentions. And, besides number two, if you knew the security provisions
inside this house... ” She walked through the living room, into the dining
room and beckoned Sylvia to follow her. “Come, come, come,” she said practicing
the lines from an old Pasadena Playhouse play...and I won’t bite you.”
She laughed as she walked into the kitchen. The ceiling lights went on
automatically.
“How nice,” Sylvia said
in wonderment. “I’ve never seen that happen before.”
“Sit
right there,” Nicki said. “That’s also my idea. Are you hungry? Have you
had lunch?”
“Just
some water will be fine.”
“What
kind of job are you looking for?” Nicki asked, pouring water from the tap
into a tall glass.
“Housework.
Anything to do with keeping your home clean and livable --all the time.
And, I’ll work hard.”
“Ah,”
Nicki replied. She giggled. “You’ve noticed.” She leaned against the breakfast
bar and poured tap water into a glass tumbler. She nodded at the four stools,
not lined up against the bar. “I have no interest, actually no time, for
housecleaning.” she said handing the glass to Sylvia. They laughed. Sylvia
set her glass on the table. Nicki enjoyed Sylvia and was certain she and
Sylvia would get alone well.
“Thank
you, ma’am.”
“Actually,
I hate housework.” They smiled at each other. She's a pretty young woman.
She could be twenty-five, twenty-eight, tops. Nicki looked at Sylvia’s
thin neck, her small bust, thin arms and small hands. She’s rather dark
around the eyes. Probably due to worry. She’s trim. There’ll be no Jo Simple
for her to flirt with or a house woman for him to pet. She watched
Sylvia finish drinking the water.
“I put
an ad in the paper a few days ago and I’ll probably be getting responses
soon ... ”
“I’ll
work very cheap, ma’am,” Sylvia said in a tone somewhat rife with the sound
of fatigue and desperation. “One hundred a month for six days a week ...
”
“Sylvia, are you legal?”
Nicki bit her lip and hoped the answer proved satisfactory.
Sylvia laughed. “I made
my debut, a breech baby--of course, I was born in this country. Cleveland,
Ohio. Yes ma’am. I’m very legal.”
“Well you said you would
work cheap ... ”
“I’ll work for one hundred
a month for three months. By that time you will know what I’m worth. If
my work suits you, then pay me what you think the going rate is for a housekeeper
who knows how to work....”
Nicki
stared at Sylvia. She wanted to hire her. Something told her to send the
woman on her way. If it sounds too good to be true ... She chewed
on the inside of her lip as she decided. “We’ve got a deal. When can you
begin? And by the way, I’ll feel guilty not paying four hundred.”
“No,
ma’am. They must be my terms or ... ”
“I get it,” Nicki laughed.
She walked away from the breakfast bar and stood near the table. They smiled
again at each other. “You want a lot more money, is that it?”
“Only if I’m worth it,
ma’am.”
“I like your spunk,
Sylvia. Should I call you Sylvia?”
“Yes, please. Sylvia
will be fine.”
“When
can you start and do you have references?” Nicki asked as they strolled
back through dining room into the kitchen.
“Tomorrow
and yes. Several persons you may telephone?”
“Marvelous. I’ll not
respond to any other inquiry, from the ad, if you’re certain you’ll be
here tomorrow, Sylvia.”
“I have
to be sure, ma’am.”
“No
more, ma’am. Call me Nicki. Please call me Nicki. OK?”
“Yes, Nicki. I must
go now.”
“Oh,
Sylvia, who are you with?”
“Other
friends of mine looking for work. We’ve had rash of bad luck, so to speak.
They don’t need to work as much as I do, but the tall woman and her husband
are divorcing, her kids are in school, and she needs to get a job. Her
husband is paying alimony and child support but it’s never enough. ”
“Right,”
Nicki said softly, pursing her full lips, engrossed in Sylvia and her friends.
“And the other shorter woman?”
“Oh,
her name is Rosalee Perez. I think she may be illegal.” They laughed.
“Really?”
“No.
I’m just joking. I don’t know. She has lived in this country as a legal
alien for thirty- two years or so she stated and she still has a heavy
Spanish accent. She’s from Columbia, I think she said. I know she travels
back to her family home down there every other year or so, but wouldn’t
you think she would have lost that accent by now?”
“Yeah. Really,” Nicki
answered.
“Excuse
me, ma--, er, Nicki,” Sylvia said. “Have I seen you in movies?”
Nicki smiled widely.
“Yes, I’ve made a few. Won’t tell her about my bit parts. “I’m going higher
in the studios one of these days.”
“I thought
when I first saw you. You played in movie...I remember a casino...a beautiful
sheer gown and I wished my figure was like yours. Yes, yes,” Sylvia said.
“You were the woman holding a red lacquered cigarette holder. It had to
be two feet long...”
“Yes, yes,” Nicki said.
They laughed.
“Oh
you were so beautiful. Really.”
Nicki
understood and accepted Sylvia’s sincere.
“I’m certain you will
be a big name someday and sooner than later. It will be exciting... I’m
certain you will be a bigger star than that blonde...”
Nicki shook her hair
again, flattered that Sylvia recognized her. She checked her face in the
mirror. You’re looking good, Nicki. Really good.
“Oh, there Rosalee is
now,” Sylvia said. They approached the front wide window. “Who lives in
that beautiful house Rosalee was in?” Sylvia asked.
“A college professor.
She’s single. Teaches and investigates something I don’t know much about
or understand. It’s called parapsychology and other things called phenomena.
She’s an interesting lady. You’ll meet her. She comes over now and then.
Now and then when I don’t have a date or hopefully, an early call.”
“You’re
not married, ma’am?” Sylvia glanced at Nicki’s engagement and wedding rings.
“We’re
separated. It doesn’t look too good.”
“Will you look for more
then?”
“I have
several interesting offers under consideration.” Nicki paused and needed
to ask the question. “Do you know who I am, Sylvia?”
“You seem familiar.
Are you really a movie star?”
“No. Not me, although,
like I said. Not yet, but I’ve had offers.”
“You’re right, I have
seen your pictures perhaps in newspapers or magazines?” They walked to
the front door. Nicki put her hand on the latch.
“I’m
married to Jo Simple ... ”
Sylvia
screamed a tiny squeak. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, and she
covered her mouth with her hand. “Jo Simple? The guy who is that
movie star? He’s beautiful. Is he here? Now?” Sylvia stretched her neck
to look up the stairs.
Sylvia’s reaction annoyed
Nicki. Women. They all go for his body. They would die to see him stripped.
She giggled. He’s got a nicer disposition when he’s stripped than when
he’s dressed. That’s because we’re doing different things when we’re undressed.
If I could only keep him aroused twenty- four hours a day. She giggled
again. Interesting thought. But ...
“Will he ever be here?”
“I doubt
it,” Nicki said putting her hand on the doorknob.
“I love the color of
your nails,” Sylvia said.
We’ll do each other’s
one of these days. Would you like that?” Sylvia opened the front door and
glanced across the street.
“You’re
too kind, Nicki,” Sylvia said. “I’m thankful you gave me a job.
The
short woman smiled as the tall woman joined her “What’s the tall woman’s
name?”
“Vera
Hidalgo. She’s a nice woman. Very quiet.” She looked across the street
and then back at Nicki. “They’re smiling. Perhaps they’ve had good fortune
like me.” Sylvia stepped down onto the small front concrete porch and asked,
“What time do you want me here?” Sylvia opened the front gate. “It make
s a strange sound, when...”
“Don’t tell anyone,”
Nicki said, holding it open, “but electricity controls it. Not my idea.”
“Play
it by ear. Just push the button twice and I’ll know it’s you. Like this.”
They
listened to the chimes sound twice.
“You’ve
set your own salary, so now you can set your own hours. But, please, keep
my condo clean for me. I just can’t. I’ve got so many things to do. I’m
not really the housecleaning type ... ”
“I’ll
be here before nine in the morning, ma’am, Nicki.” She held out her hand
to Nicki. “You don’t know what this means to me. I really need the work.
Thank you.”
“You’ll like it here,
Sylvia. It’ll be fun. Fun, as long as Jo and I split amicably. You could
get an earful if he doesn’t like the offer my lawyers have ready for him
... "
“I’m sorry you’re getting
a divorce. I wish ... ”
“I’ve tried. I’ve given
it a fair shake and I’ve concluded it’s more his fault than mine. I want
children, and he doesn’t want me to have children. Some movie stars feel
that having children, ages them, ruins their figures.”
“Really?”
Sylvia pushed the gate shut. She had trouble leaving the conversation.
“Well, your friends
are waiting for you. Say! How will the three of you get home?”
“By bus. It’s only an
hour from here.”
“East L.A.?”
Sylvia
didn’t answer. She walked to the sidewalk. “Thanks for the job. I’ll see
you tomorrow morning.”
She
turned and smiled and waved good-bye to Nicki.
Nicki
kept her eyes on Sylvia as she crossed the street. She walked older than
her years. She’s so feminine, she thought. I like that. Sexually
attractive I would think in an innocent way. She seems troubled. And I
bet she hasn’t told me everything. But, in time....
Sylvia joined her friends.
The women, strangers to Nicki, waved to her. Nicki smiled, acknowledged
them, walked slowly back up the stairs to her front door and slowly closed
it.
Leaning against the
heavy wood of the door, Nicki imagined Marshall in his tight black slacks
and white waiter’s jacket. She smiled as she watched him maneuver around
the small tables, moving his hips elegantly but in a manly fashion. His
body movements pleased her as he waited tables at one of her favorite delicatessen's:
Marcussi’s.
Vida Marcussi insisted
that his waiters be slim, trim and well built young men and women, wear
tight black slacks during the week and tight white slacks, no underwear
on week-ends. The curves of Marshall’s body were vivid as she opened her
mouth and imagined he kissed her persuasively again. Nicki felt his tongue,
her eyes closed as her telephone rang.
“Now what?” She walked
into the dining area and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Nicki.
Jo here.”
“Oh,
Jo,” she said. She frowned with disappointment, slumped and stood straight
again recalling her physical instruction lessons. Straight and tall,
Bernard said, butt in, pelvis in, yes, yes that’s it. Now listen
to your me, your best friend, he would say many times a training session.
She laughed thinking about her very skinny instructor, the eagerness Bernard
showed as she pretended to follow his instructions, but gave him credit
when she agreed with him, we need very little food.
“Well,
say it like that. Don’t show eagerness.” A pause. “Are you there, Nicki?”
“What
is it Jo? I have an engagement.” Her impatience came through.
“Who are going to please
tonight?”
“Jo!”
she said, raising her voice. “Do you want to argue or do you ...? Say,
you called me, buddy.”
“I’m
beside myself."
“What’s
wrong?” He sounds scared. She frowned.
“I’ve heard some nasty
things about you and your new friends.”
“What nasty things,
Jo? What new friends? I have very few after the lies you’ve spread about
me” Nicki walked back into the front room and sat on the long white couch
situated near the front of the bay window. She held the heavy white phone
dragging the long cord across the room. The living room wall lights illuminated
as she entered and the room slowly became brighter. Hm. It must be four
o’clock. Time for automatic lighting. Nicki, after many years, felt
secure in her own home. She plumped down and crossed her legs, swinging
one back and forth.
“ ... a producer approached
me the other day, satisfied his hands several times in different places,
you know what I mean, and told me he heard you were involved with the latest
designer drug movement.”
Nicki
uncrossed her legs. “Do you think I am, Jo?”
“I hope not.”
“Jo.
Answer me. Not that it’s important to me anymore, but do you think I’m
into that nonsense?” She paused. Jo didn’t answer. “Jo. I didn’t do drugs
when you were into them hot and heavy. Who got you to go cold turkey? I
did!”
“No.
I don’t believe you’re that type. You’re too frigin smart for that.”
“You
got that one right, Samson.”
She
thought for a moment. His tone told her there were other nagging problems
on his mind; problems he hadn’t divulged to her. “What else is bothering
you, Jo?”
“Oh, I know we’ve had
bad days together, and I know it’s mostly my fault. It’s the business,
I guess. It’s rough being a star. You know that...”
“Not really, Jo. It’s
rough being a star’s wife.”
“..everyone wants to
touch the body,” he continued. “Even the crew on the set. If I bruised
every time someone touched me, I’d be black and blue like a checkerboard
instead of a robust white stud.”
“Uh-huh,
honey,” Nicki said.
She
talked to herself.
You
still care for him, don’t you?
Don’t
be a sucker.
I
don’t know.
Marshall
is very good at what he does.
Very
professional. Very desirable.
Will
have his own bistro one day.
Hm.
Very good. She imagined Marshall pressed his body against her. Nicki
needed the strength of his hardness and no doubt existed that she wanted
Marshall close to her again. She listened to Jo drone.
“ ...
and I guess you know I’ve signed a contract to do more commercials. Most
of them are OK, but I think some of the humorous commercials are ridiculous.”
“You don’t want to do
the commercials?”
“Right. I don’t want
to do them.”
“Then
why are you doing them?”
“It’s
called money, Nicki. I need the money to keep up on the expenses. I make
a lot, but it’s amazing how many people get a piece of my pie.”
“So what’s new, Jo?
It’s been that way since you got into the Hollywood scene. But what are
we talking about anyway? I’ve an engagement.” She took a deep breath.
“Who? The pimp kid from
Marcussi’s?”
“Marshall is not a pimp
and he has certainly proven he’s not a kid. Something about him bothers
me though, Jo.”
“And
that is?”
“In
some ways, he reminds me of you.”
“What
ways?”
“I won’t
say on the phone.”
“Do
his kisses please you? Like mine always did, I mean?”
“No.” She lied.
“Thanks
for saying that. Anyway, Nicki, I won’t keep you, but I do need to ask
a favor of you.”
“What?”
“I’ve
got to wear this damnable costume in one of the movie scenes. They’re gonna
use it in a trailer.”
“Why,
Jo?”
“There
gonna try me out in a comedy.”
“Jo,
darling, you’re not a comedian. You’re a leading man type...”
“I don’t like it, Nicki.
I want and need your opinion about the costume. You know. How I look and
everything.”
“What
do you want, Jo?
“Could
I come over?”
“Why?”
“So
you can see the costume and me in it? I know you’ll tell me the truth.”
“I always have, Jo?”
“Yes....”
“Sure,
Jo. How about Sunday evening?”
“Good.
About nine or so?”
“That
would be fine. But, no date. You’re not coming inside the house, OK?”
“Right. OK. Yeah. I
understand.”
She
listened to the silence on the line. I’ve got to break this off clean.
Maybe my surprise will prove to Jo I carry no malice toward him. Maybe
not. “I’ll expect you at nine, Jo. I’ll leave the front door ajar.
You stay at the gate or the foot of the stairs. OK? Buzz three times. I’ll
let you in.”
“Right.
See you Sunday,” Jo said. Silent line.
The front door chimes
sounded as she laid the phone on the coffee table. Nicki got up, walked
quickly to the front door, looked outside, saw Marshall and pressed the
button for the front gate. She opened the door and pressed the gate release
and watched him walk quickly toward the stairs, bound up onto the porch
and ask, “Are you sure it’s all right for me to be here?”
“Of
course, Marshall. What do you mean? What a strange question. This is my
home. You’re my guest.” They kissed. “Silly,” she said, stroking the nape
of his neck.
His tongue teased her
lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pushed the door shut as he
turned her and pressed her body with his against the door.
He knows the right
moves, she thought as he pressed harder against her. “Hm. You smell
and taste handsome,” she moaned. “And you feel ready for bear?” She changed
her voice to a little girl’s voice and teased, “Are you ready for bear,
my handsome hunter?”
He chuckled knowing
she said that line in a dumb play. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.
Sometimes I had to wait until I my appearance became presentable as opposed
to predatory before I could enter the dining room again. These slacks don’t
allow for much expansion. And, it’s not easy being in love with a celebrity.”
“Marshall.
I’m not a celebrity, well?” she whispered as he began to kiss her repeatedly:
her ears, below her jaw and up on her lips. “Jo is the celebrity, not me.
Not me as yet anyway,” she said accepting his lovemaking. “Maybe...”
“I thought
we weren’t going to mention his name?”
“You’re right. Sorry.
Kiss me again, my darling. Oops.” She held his head between her hands.
“Would you like a little wine before dinner?”
“I don’t need it, but...”
“I’m
ready if you’re ready. Let’s go then. Go on upstairs. I’ll get the wine,
just in case,” she said and walked through the dining room to the kitchen
as Marshall took the stairs two at a time.
They laughed as they
parted. She blew him a kiss. He his the upstairs landing as Nicki hurried
into the kitchen and took the chilled wine from the refrigerator. She grabbed
an opener and took the backstairs up to the second floor. “Ready or not,
here I come,” she said and laughed as she walked into her long wide, white,
pale blue and gray decorated bedroom. He lay on the bed, stripped down
to his briefs. "Wow! You are ready.”
“You
like the merchandise, lady?”
“Like
it? I love it,” she replied as she jumped onto the bed and rolled on top
of Marshall. They laughed and kissed. Their hands caressed their bodies.
He pulled her hard down on top of him.
“I need
you, Miss Nicki,” he said and began kissing her deeply. His arm went around
her and she loved the way he kissed. “In spite of the gossip columns, I
really do love you. I don’t think I can live without you and I’m afraid...”
“Fear?
You’re afraid?” she moaned. Nicki looked directly at Marshall. “Afraid
of what?” she asked as their lips came closer. She was interested in making
love but didn’t understand Marshall’s fear. He had never mentioned anything
that would lead her to believe anything was wrong between them or between
Marshall and some other person..
“I’m
afraid you’ll say no to me.”
“Marshall, is that?”
she said laughing. She wasn’t certain she believed him now. “Do you hear
a ‘no’ from me?” She purred.
“Oh, please, please.
Please,” Marshall said.
Nicki put him closer.
“Beggars can be choosers, señor,” faking an accent. “But you won’t
have to beg long.” She began to kiss him as she became aroused and snapped
her fingers. “We’ll be married as soon as....” The room lights went out.
To The Top
Chapter Two
“I don’t
know, Holton,” Jo said thinking hard. “She said she wasn’t involved. I
believe her.” Jo arched his eyebrows, took a deep breath, and asked, “Who
told you she was dealing anyway?”
“A good
source. In the business.”
“Movies?
Radio? Media?”
“Yeah.”
He chuckled at his cleverness and attempt to joke. “You don’t need to know,
Jo. The more you don’t know, the safer you are, you know that.”
“Are you involved?”
“Are
you kidding me? I’m in dope dealing up to my neck. I can’t get out. Take
it from me. Don’t get involved. You’re finally clean, thanks to Nicki I
might add, and if you get back into it, you know it could kill you next
time.”
Holton
knew sensed Jo’s actions suggested Jo’s anxiety. “What’s going on with
you, Jo? I haven’t seen you for a week. I hear all kinds of rumors and
I come here, find you horny, your jeans are too tight, a little bulge in
your waist, you need to diet, and you act like you need a fix. What’s going
on?”
“Who
are you? My mother?” Jo asked and shifted positions on his couch.
“Jo. As it happens,
I’m only a writer. And I’ve done some good scripts for you ... ”
“That's
true. You have.” He rubbed his face.
“I don’t want you getting
high on me again. Keep your emotions under control. Whether you realize
it not, you have enemies in this business.” He put down his glass half
filled with orange juice. “I guess we all do for that matter.” They are
lighting candles, praying you’re gonna get hooked again.” Holton watched
Jo stand up and begin to walk back and forth in the large den. “You’ve
still got your figure. Nice body. You’re masculine. Trim build. Excites
many people.” He paused. “Why are you pacing?”
“You
said you heard Nicki was dealing.”
“It’s
a rumor, Jo. It’s just a plain, dumb rumor. I don’t even remember where
I heard it. I don’t know who told me. There are a million rumors a day
in this town. It’s part of the movie business. If someone isn’t bedding
someone else, then so-and-so’s having a big star’s baby, a big name is
being sued, she’s had another nose job, his eyes are droopy again, tummy
tucks, belly flats, butt realignments: I don’t even know the names of some
of the latest body plasty nonsense. Jo, you’re only thirty-eight years
old. You’ve got twenty years ahead of you, at least. It’s not like a woman.
Seven good years and she gets mother or grandmother parts. Get enough exercise,
a lot of good healthy sleep at night, in bed, by yourself," he emphasized,
"and you’ll make me a happy camper.”
Jo stopped
walking, tapped the toe of one his white cowboy boots with the other foot
and stood with his feet apart. He folded his arms. “You’re a good friend
Holton. How come you’ve stuck with me all these years?”
“How
come you’ve stuck with me, Jo?” Holton asked, and sipped juice from his
glass.
“Touché,
buddy,” Jo said and rubbed his thighs downward with his hands.
“Get out of those tight
jeans, Jo. But back to subject. All these years? You mean the last
ten years? I like the way you look, Jo. You’ve always been straight with
me: honest. I just wish you and Nicki could straighten your lives out,
but lacking that ... ”
The telephone rang.
Jo looked
around the room and listened for his houseboy’s footsteps upstairs, shrugged
his shoulders and picked up the telephone. “Hello?”
“Just a reminder. You’ve
got to get into the business. There’s a gold mine at your studio. You can
make a fortune. I’ll be in touch again. You’re not dealing, but your mama
is. She has two studios tied up ... ” Jo squinted and didn’t recognize
the wheezing voice. “Listen you asthmatic, son of ...” He slammed the phone
onto the cradle. “There it is. Again.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t
know. I haven’t the slightest idea. Some crummy sounding guy. I guess it
was a man. He threatened me, if I don’t deal.”
The
phone rang.
“Let
me get it, Jo.” Holton left the couch and walked past Jo to the end table.
He picked up the receiver and said, “Yes?”
“Jo?”
“Yeah.”
“Jo,
this is Marlene. Marlene Vanders. Remember?”
“Yes, Marlene.” Holton
winked at Jo.
“Marlene?
Marlene Vanders?” so Jo would know who he talked to.
Holton nodded. “What
can I do for you?”
“I just talked to Nicki.
You know I haven’t made a picture in about a year. She won’t give me any
credit. I heard you were gonna deal. Can you help me out a little?”
“Yeah, but you gotta
tell me who told you about me.”
“Oh, I will if you get
some hard stuff. Will you? In a hurry?”
“I’ll send it to your
door. Special delivery. Within the hour. OK?”
“Thanks, Jo. You’re
a peach. A true friend.”
“You got that one ...
wrong,” he said softly as he hung up. “Wait a second, Jo.” He dialed. “Harv?
Holton here. Marlene ... yeah, Vanders. She’s freaking out. Called me.
I promised her you’d get your butt right over to her house with the hard
stuff. How much?”
Holton glanced at Jo
who stood with his hands inside the front pockets of his tight jeans. His
plaid shirt open down to the third button. Holton marveled. How much
younger Jo appears than thirty-eight. Good body. Handsome curves
in the right places. A handsome man. A man’s man. “What did you say?
A grand?”
“A thousand
dollars?” Jo’s mouth dropped open. “It’s inflation. I used to get a fix
for one- hundred and ... ”
Holton
put his fingers to his lips and shook his head. “Be quiet!”
A thousand bucks, Jo
mimed, wide-eyed.
“OK.
Right away. Right?”
“No.
I don’t need any tonight.”
Jo’s
mouth fell open. Holton hung up. “Don’t get excited. I’m not using. I pretend.
Throw it down the sink.”
“Then
why?”
“To
keep my job, that’s why?”
“That’s
what they’re threatening me with. Loss of work. I don’t know what I’d do
if...” He stuck his hand inside his jeans and adjusted his fly. “Who are
those people anyway? Do you know?”
“No
matter who they are, they’re part of some syndicate. Like I said, Jo. The
less we know the better off we will be.” Holton walked into the kitchenette.
“I need a soda. What do you have in stock?”
“I dunno'.
Open the box and see.” Jo followed Holton and leaned against the kitchen
butcher block. “Do you think Nicki is dealing?”
Holton
opened a bottle of sparkling water. He uncapped it and held it bottle to
his lips. “I know Nicki. She’s no dummy, but she’s done some crazy things,
like marry you. But I’ll tell you Jo, when people see you two together,
they get turned on. Hollywood’s up and coming twosome. The new people,
etc. etc.” He gulped. “She gave up her career. Why didn’t you two have
any kids? Nicki wanted them.” He took a long drink of cold water. “But
some of the best sources say she’s dealing now and making money. Lots of
it. This young waiter she’s got in tow. What do you know about him?”
“I’ve
seen him at Marcussi’s. He’s a good-looking stud. He’s friendly, had dark
hair and a clean face. I like him but not with Nicki. He’s got a rear end
that would make a hit in Hollywood. He says he’s an actor. Almost every
waiter or waitress in Hollywood list their occupation as actor on their
unemployment applications.”
They
laughed. Holton emptied the small water bottle.
“If Nicki is dealing,
she could kill your career, Jo. You know, those maniacs are stoned most
of the time but the public doesn’t know for sure. She could hurt you. The
public can love easily and become very righteous, quickly.”
Jo frowned.
“I’ve
got to get going, Holton said. He placed the empty bottle on the kitchen
sink’s sideboard. “Got some writing to finish tonight. Are you OK, Jo?”
“Yeah. But I wish these
phone calls would stop.”
“By the way, where’s
your houseboy? I can never remember his strange name.”
"He’s
off tonight, Friday, tomorrow and Sunday. I forgot. Sometimes I don’t even
know what day it is, especially when I’m shooting: up at four, home at
ten. You know the routine. But, he’s got the whole weekend off. I think
he flew to Frisco to visit his family. His father is ailing.”
“Too bad. Well, I’ll
get going, Jo. I’ll call you later or tomorrow. I’ll just go out the back
door here. Call you tomorrow, OK?”
“Right!
Thanks, Holton.”
Holton
winked as he closed the door gently behind him.
Jo ran his hands over
his body. He enjoyed the feeling, the tight fit of his jeans, the loose
fit of his red plaid shirt and looked down at his ankle high cowboy boots.
As he touched himself, he felt sexy and decided to take a sauna bath. I’ll
get naked and nasty in the sauna before climbing into the sack. He
enjoyed talking to himself and the sauna and expressions about his manhood
made him feel like a kid again.
As he
walked up to the third floor level, he undressed and sauntered into the
exercise room toward the sauna. Stepping out of his briefs, Jo looked at
the blond hair that covered his tan body, turned both ways and checked
his trim profile. “You’re looking great Jo. You still got it man.”
Jo set
the sauna timer that looked like a big alarm clock, a gold, platinum and
silver-plated gift from Nicki, and door safety latch, to lock the door,
as he grabbed a long white towel and entered the sauna. He laid the towel
on the slats of one of the benches and lay down. He stretched out, pulled
his arms high over his head and enjoyed his lean feeling. As he touched
his body in different places, he was troubled by the rumors about Nicki
dealing dope. He hoped she wasn’t. I’ll kill her if she is.
He frowned
at himself for thinking the thought. I could never kill my Nicki.
He sat up, stood up
and stepped into the sauna tub.
To The Top
Chapter Three
“I dun
give a chit ’bout you quotas or anytang else,” Rosalee said, as
she spoke into a mouthpiece of what appeared to Sylvia to be a telephone
receiver.
“What is that?” Sylvia
asked Vera.
“I think
it’s a sender. Like a radio or something. It’s not a telephone. It looks
like a telephone but it’s not. It has to be a radio. I think a transmitter
is what Rosalee called it.
Sylvia nodded then hunched
her shoulders. It looks like a telephone but it’s a radio. What a world!
The frayed
cord gave the appearance of having been used a long time and looked old.
Rosalee
glanced sternly at Sylvia then Vera. They sat in the limo’s single seats
facing backward. Sylvia sat on the left of the rear bench seat, crossed
her legs and motioned the driver to roll up the divider window.
“Ju
dun nee to listen, Señor. Dun listen. Ju hear? Vuelve tu cabeza
alrededor y maneja--Turn your head around and drive, she said in Spanish.
Estás
sólo un chófer--You are only a driver. And dun forgat
dat one, you bum!” she added in loud and her idea of spoken English.
“Rosalee,
for crying out loud,” Sylvia said as the window rose and closed behind
her. “You don’t have to be rude to people.”
“Ju
get tangs done being loud. Besides, lady Chylvia, who’s da boss
here?” She continued with her phone conversation. “So what I’m staying
is Brentwood, dose hills and all of Hollywood, gonna be mine or I gonna
fly sout and talk to Alec. I’m chure you dun want dat. Or, do you
want dat?”
Rosalee’s
anger mounted and amused Sylvia. She listened to her accent and wondered
if she actually spoke English that badly or is she really a phony,
for some reason.
Vera was as bored with
Rosalee’s performance as Sylvia seemed to be. She sat silently observing
the passing large homes and expensive landscaping. She glanced periodically
at Rosalee and remained silent with her arms folded across her chest. The
driver turned the corner sharply. Sylvia saw the street sign of Beverly
Hills pass. Beverly Hills, she thought.
“He’s mad,” Vera offered
as she grabbed the door and her plush crushed velvet covered seat They
all held on tight.
“He
has a right,” Sylvia offered. She stopped listening to Rosalee who continued
her angry conversation. “Are we staying in the hotel tonight?”
“Right. Then tomorrow
we go to work.”
“Good.
I like that hotel. I love luxury. Don’t you think it’s luxurious, Vera?"
“Yes, and Oh, me too.
I love nice things. Say, tell me about the lady in your house. What’s her
name?”
“Nicki
Simple. Do you know her? Vera, she’s married to that handsome movie star
Jo Simple?”
“Really?
The one with the light blond hair?”
Sylvia nodded.
“Everywhere?”
Vera added.
They
giggled. They blushed. “Wish he were staying with me in the hotel tonight.
I love that man. He’s so...so...so...handsome. Oh, jes,” she joked. “He’s
so blond. I’ll bet he’s good at ... ”
“Makes
me wonder,” Sylvia interrupted. She didn’t want the conversation to deteriorate.
“Why are they divorcing?”
“This
Nicki lady and Jo are divorcing?”
“So
she says.” Sylvia yawned.
“What
a waste,” Vera said and yawned. She covered her mouth and turned away from
Sylvia to glance out the window as the limousine turned up the long palm
shaded drive to the hotel entrance. “Ah we’re home,” she said. “I’m sorta
tired, aren’t you?”
Sylvia
nodded.
“Glad
we all got jobs so close together. Rosalee’s idea of cheap wages sure did
the trick. I thought Mrs. Grayson was going to try and get me for a hundred.
Funny ... ”
“What’s funny?” Sylvia
asked. She heard Rosalee still haranguing over the telephone. She was excited,
angry and spit into the mouthpiece as she spoke.
“Who’s she talking to?”
Sylvia asked.
“Felix,” Vera said and
rolled her eyes in disapproval.
“How do you know?”
“She
called him, Felix a few minutes ago,” Vera said, running her fingers back
through her dark hair.
“Oh,”
Sylvia said.
“How
did Rosalee know the Grayson’s didn’t have a housekeeper and would hire
one cheap?” Sylvia asked.
Vera
said using a confidential whisper: “You know Rosalee. She does her homework
as they say.” Sylvia shook her head. She didn’t like Rosalee and knew that
Vera had no use for her. Sylvia thought, She dresses like an older woman,
twice her age. She can’t be more than thirty-five. She looks like a skinny
weeny illegal alien. Sylvia laughed at her own silent joke.
“ ... and dun you forget
dat one, Felix. Oops. Not suppose use dese names.” She placed the receiver
on the hook and turned off the radio-transmitter. “Ah. We dere.” The short
limousine slowed down on the long curved drive. The crackle of white granite
driveway stones by the tires filled the limousine.
Vera
stretched then tapped Sylvia’s shoulder. “Hey chick. We gonna take a swim
before dinner? We gonna have a few drinks on this happy Friday night?”
“Not tonight. I’m gonna
get to bed early. Got to work tomorrow. Thanks, Chick,” she said to Vera
returning her friendliness.
“Good
idea. Stick with me, ladies. Brentwood, the Hills,” Rosalee said with no
accent, “...and all dis Hollywoodee gonna be our turf. Ours alone. Ju wait
and see.”
Rosalee folded her arms
and settled back into her bench seat just as the limousine rolled to a
soft stop. “I won,” she said looking directly at Sylvia.
Sylvia wasn’t certain
who Felix was or his position, but she knew two names now, Felix and Alex,
besides Rosalee. She would use them to good advantage. From Rosalee’s comment,
she understood Rosalee to mean she thought she had won a major battle with
the organization about something. Sylvia admired Rosalee’s feistiness but
knew that when danger arose, Rosalee would throw her and Vera to anyone
to save herself. She wished she could trust Rosalee as much as she trusted
Vera. She looked forward to being close to Nicki during the course of the
coming weeks.
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