"Oh, no," Brigette cried, "you and Lucky are so great with each other. Please don't have any problems. Please."
"If life were only that simple." He took her hand. "Listen, I promised you the summer. You'l bring your girlfriend and we'l go to the South of France or Spain or Greece--
somewhere. We'l put it together."
"But I was looking forward to being with you and Lucky,"
Brigette said in a sad little voice. "And Bobby. I real y miss Bobby. I haven't seen him in ages."
Lennie ignored a blonde at the next table who'd decided to fixate on him. He groped in his pocket for a cigarette.
"Yeah, wel , life's a bitch, huh?"
"Can I cal Lucky?" Brigette asked, staring at the checkered tablecloth, wondering why everything always had to go wrong.
"If she's got time for you," Lennie replied. "She's busy buying a studio."
"A movie studio?"
"Yeah. You'l read about it in the papers. She's bought Panther Studios." dragged on his cigarette. "My wife the mogul. Not content with running the biggest shipping empire in the world, she now wants to own Hol ywood."
"Is that why you're mad?" Brigette ventured.
"Hey--it's a long story. If that's what she wants to do. . . . But I wish she'd told me about it. Where do you think she was for the last six weeks while she was supposed to be in Japan?"
"Where?"
"In Hol ywood, playing secretary. She went in undercover."
Brigette's eyes widened. "Real y? Sounds exciting to me."
"Yeah, if you don't have any other responsibilities. But Lucky is my wife. I'd like to see her once in a while. I'd like to have her support." He stubbed out his cigarette after two puffs. "Ah, hel . Why am I bothering you with this?"
"Because I'm a good listener?"
He laughed. "Yeah, you sure are. Let's change the subject.
What's going on with you?"
"Nothing," she said vaguely. "Actual y I was going to ask if we could come to L. A. like tomorrow or the day after.
Nona's mother is throwing a fit. There's this stupid magazine with a picture of Nona's brother Paul in it with Deena Swanson. She's the wife of that bil ionaire."
"Oh, yeah."
"Anyway, Paul was photographed with her, and Deena is Effie's best friend--that's Paul's mother. So, as Nona puts it, we've got to get out of here. But since you're obviously not going to L. A., I suppose we can't, either."
She looked so deflated that Lennie decided he had to cheer her up. "Tel you what," he said. "We'l eat lunch, we'l talk, and then we'l stop by a travel agent and plan a trip.
How's that? You, me, and what's this girl's name?"
"Nona."
"O. K. You got it, kiddo."
"What about Lucky and Bobby?"
Lennie shook his head. "Another time, another life."
Chapter 70
There were photographers outside the gleaming Swanson building when Deena left. Usual y they were only around when she and Martin attended an event. But she smiled anyway and climbed into her chauffeur-driven car.
At Le Cirque she got her usual ebul ient greeting from the charming proprietor, Sirio Maccioni, and was led to a table where Adam Bobo Grant sat waiting. "Darling!"
"Darling!"
They had the Hol ywood kiss down pat, New York version.
"You look delightful, as usual," Bobo said, "lime green is your color."
Deena smiled. "Thank you,- darling. Martin thinks so too."
"Does he?" said Bobo, waving to people at every table.
"And how is the big man?"
"Fine," Deena said. "In fact, very soon we're going to have an exciting story for you."
Bobo raised an eyebrow. "You are? And what might that be, my sweet?"
"Martin would kil me if he knew I was going to tel you, and you have to promise not to print anything until I give you the.
go-ahead."
"If you can't trust me, who can you trust?" Bobo said in his best sincere voice.
"Martin is taking over Orpheus Studios in Hol ywood,"
Deena announced. "What do you think of that?"
Al the better to star Venus Maria in movies, Bobo thought to himself. Was this the reason for the romance? "How very interesting," he said, eyes darting around the room, checking everyone out.
"Isn't it just?" Deena smiled; she had lovely teeth. "We'l have to spend more time in L. A., of course. But I think it wil be fun. Don't you?"
Bobo nodded. Trust Deena--queen of the understatement.
"Great fun, my dear," he agreed.
The wine waiter came by the table and they ordered drinks.
Deena decided on a martini. Bobo ordered straight vodka.
"It makes such a refreshing change to lunch with somebody who actual y drinks hard liquor," Deena said with a tinkling laugh. "When I lunch with the ladies, nobody touches anything except Perrier or Evian. It's incredibly boring. I rather enjoy a martini before lunch."
Bobo nodded and leaned toward her, speaking
confidential y. "Now, Deena," he said, lowering his voice,
"tel me the situation."
"What situation, Bobo?"
Surely she wasn't trying to hide it from him? "Why, you and Martin, of course."
She looked at him blankly.
"You have seen Truth and Fact, haven't you?" He moved closer, daring her to lie.
Deena continued to look blank. "Truth and Fact? What's that?"
Bobo was rapidly losing patience. "It's one of those magazines. The kind they sel in supermarkets."
"Oh, you mean like the Star, or the Globe. I simply adore the Globe. 'Headless woman gives birth to triplets'--
marvelous stuff. My maid brings it in."
"Then I'm surprised your maid hasn't presented you with Truth and Fact."
She gazed at him, perfectly innocent. "Is there something in it I should know about?"
"Yes, Deena, there certainly is." He took her delicate, manicured hand in his pudgy little fist. On his pinky there was an enormous sapphire ring, surrounded with diamonds.
She stared at the glittering ring and sensed she was about to hear something she wouldn't like. "What, Bobo?" she asked, her tone even and wel modulated, her slight accent thickening.
"There's a story about your husband and Venus Maria,"
Bobo said, getting right to it.
Her stomach tightened, but she managed to remain in complete control. "There is?" she asked careful y.
"Everybody's always trying to link Martin with some little popsy or other. Surely not another one?" "There's a photograph of them together," Bobo said. "And the story goes into quite a few details." "What kind of details?"
Deena asked, withdrawing her hand.
"Oh, that they've been seeing each other for several months. And that Martin is supposed to be crazy about her, and that she loves him." He paused, then zeroed in. "I wouldn't bring this up, Deena, but I hardly wish to see you eaten alive by the press. The magazine only came out today, and I'm trying to protect you." He paused again, waiting for her reaction. She remained cool, so he continued, "I'm ready to hear your side of the story. And to report it any way you like."
"There's no story to hear," Deena said through clenched teeth. "I'l have to look at this magazine, Bobo. When I've seen it, perhaps I'l be able to comment."
He reached for the manila envelope he had with him and handed it to her. "It's in here, Deena. Go to the powder room, read it, come back and talk to me."
She took the magazine and, head held high, walked toward the ladies room.
When she read the story her blood ran cold.
When she stared at the picture of Martin with Venus Maria she knew she had to act.
Venus Maria had signed her own death warrant.
Deena Swanson was about to make sure of that.
Chapter 71
After getting together with al the department heads, Lucky decided she should meet with the various stars who had deals at the studio. She had set up her off
ice in the conference room as a temporary measure, giving Mickey Stol i a couple of days to get out. He'd robbed her of the pleasure of firing him. Too bad. - Morton Sharkey had found an experienced assistant and promptly stolen him from another studio on her behalf. Otis Lindcrest was an efficient black man in his late twenties. He certainly seemed to know his way around, and he worked hard setting appointments and making Lucky feel as comfortable and secure as possible.
There was so much to do that she couldn't quite decide where to start. The most important thing of al was overseeing the projects the studio had in post- and preproduction, and then deciding on the direction of Panther's future.
Out of the executives she'd met with, she wasn't sure whom she could trust. It would take a while to get to know them as individuals and assess their loyalty.
Her immediate plan was to sit down with them one by one over the next few weeks. In the meantime, she'd sent for Lennie's contract and told Morton she wanted it rescinded.
"Send him a letter," she'd instructed, "saying he's out of his deal with Panther. We're releasing him--unless he wants to stay."
"Why are you doing this?" Morton had asked.
"I don't want him thinking he has any obligation to Panther just because I own it. If he decides to come and work here, that'l be great. But if he doesn't, he's free to go elsewhere."
"Lucky, he's an asset," Morton pointed out. "A big one."
"He's also my husband," she replied firmly. "And I can't have him feeling he's tied here."
Flowers began to arrive from various people she didn't know. They were accompanied by warm and welcoming notes. They were from agents, producers, and managers.
The stars didn't bother to send them. Being a star meant you never had to send flowers--merely to receive them.
Otis gave her a rundown of al the players. For a young man he certainly knew plenty.
"How long have you been in this business?" she asked curiously.
"Started as a set P. R. Moved on to the mailroom at CAA.
Almost got into producing. And I've been personal-assisting for five years."
She noted that he'd like to produce. Somewhere down the line, she thought. Right now Otis was invaluable exactly where he was. .
She didn't leave the studio until nine o'clock at night.
Boogie handed her a copy of Truth and Fact in the car. "I thought you'd want to see this," he said as he drove her home.
She glanced at the magazine, skipped over the stuff about Martin Swanson and Venus Maria. Who cared? She never believed anything she read in these papers anyway. But when she saw the picture of Brigette, she was immediately concerned. After Brigette's bad experience with Tim Wealth, Lucky knew she was far too young and vulnerable to get involved with another renegade. And that's exactly what Paul Webster looked like with his long hair and intense eyes. "Remind me to phone Brigette first thing in the morning," she said. "And cal London and alert Mike Baverstock at British Airways to watch out for Bobby and his nanny. They're flying in on Friday. Oh, and tel Otis to clear Friday afternoon for me, I'l meet them at the airport."
By the time they got back to the beach it was past ten.
"Any messages for me, Miko?" she asked hopeful y.
Miko bowed. "No, madame, no messages." Apparently Lennie didn't feel like cal ing.
She was too tired to eat. Too tired to do anything except fal into bed and drop off into a deep sleep. She awoke refreshed and invigorated, showered, dressed, sat down for breakfast. The trades were ful of news: LUCKY SANTANGELO TAKES OVER PANTHER
MARTIN SWANSON MOVES IN ON ORPHEUS
She couldn't wait to get to the studio. There was a lot of hard work ahead, but one thing she knew for sure--running a studio was becoming an addiction.
Johnny Romano was her first appointment. He swaggered into the conference room, entourage hovering close behind.
As soon as he walked in the room he did a double-take.
This woman was beautiful.
"Can we talk by ourselves, Mr. Romano?" she asked.
"Hey, baby, my pleasure." He signaled his entourage to leave.
Lucky got up from behind the conference table and walked over to shake hands. "The name is Lucky Santangelo," she said. " 'Baby' doesn't cut it."
He took her hand and pul ed her toward him. "You're a very beautiful lady," he said in a husky voice. "Welcome to my life."
She removed her hand from his. "That's about the corniest line I've ever heard. How many times have you used it?"
He laughed. "It usual y goes down pretty good." "Not with me."
"O. K., O. K., so you're a beautiful woman and I-- Johnny Romano--am coming on to you. Such a terrible thing?"
She decided to ignore his remark. "You know, Johnny, your movie grossed big this weekend." "Sure, baby," he said confidently.
"But I think we'l see a substantial drop next weekend."
He lifted his chin displaying a great movie-star jaw-line.
"What you sayin', baby?"
She didn't hold back. "I'm saying Motherfaker is a sexist piece of crap."
Johnny's face darkened. Nobody ever spoke to him like that. "Are you out of your mind, woman?" he glowered.
She shook her head. "No, just giving you some useful advice."
"What's that?" he said arrogantly.
"You can take criticism, can't you?"
"You think I can't?" he countered.
"Johnny, you're a sensational-looking guy. Everyone loves you. You're macho, handsome, and sexy. But this movie cancels out a huge audience for you. Kids can't see it, old people won't want to. I don't understand it--for some crazy reason you make yourself into an anti-hero. The result is that everyone ends up hating the character you play. And every other word is 'motherfucker.' You wrote the film, Johnny. Surely you have a larger vocabulary than that?" He glared at her. "This movie's gonna make a fuckin' fortune for Panther and you're criticizing it?" "I'm saying I know you're capable of so much more. And I'd love you to do another movie for Panther. But I'm wil ing to tear up your contract and let you walk, because I'm not prepared to make another Motherfaker. If you're after a lasting career, you have to build it, not tear it down. What you're saying to your audience is 'Fuck you. I can do what I like and get away with it.' It doesn't work anymore, Johnny."
"You're a crazy woman." He laughed. "I can go anywhere in this town an' get any deal I want."
"Then maybe that's what you should do," she said evenly.
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was this broad insane? "O. K., lady, if that's what you want, maybe that's what I'l do."
"Go ahead," she said, chal enging him. "But if you're smart you'l listen to me. Don't make an instant decision. Think it over, and we'l talk next week."
When Johnny Romano left the room he was not a happy man.
Venus Maria was Lucky's second appointment. The blond superstar breezed into her office with a big grin on her face.
"This is real y great," she said enthusiastical y. "A woman in charge! My wildest dream come true. Howdja do it?"
Lucky grinned back. "I thought it was about time. My plan is to kick a little ass. Are you on for the ride?"
Venus Maria's grin widened. "Oh, have you picked the right star here!"
"I hope so," Lucky said. "I need al the support I can get."
"You know so," Venus Maria replied, flopping into a chair and sticking her legs out. She wore cutoff jeans, a Save the World T-shirt, and a long vest covered with pins. Her platinum hair was bunched on top of her head. And on her feet she wore short white socks and Reeboks. "I'm rehearsing," she announced, "for my upcoming video. It's gonna be a trip!"
"I'm delighted you're with Panther," Lucky said warmly. "I know you're committed to do Bombshel , and I also know you're not happy with the script." "How do you know that?"
"Because you told me."
Venus Maria looked puzzled. "I told you? Have we met before?"
Lucky reached for a cigarette. "Oh, yeah, we've met. Only you d
on't remember, do you?"
"In New York?"
"No. Right here at this studio. You bitched to me about the script, and now that I've read it, I couldn't agree more.
There's a rewrite in the works. In fact I met with the writer before you came in. He knows what we want."
"He does?"
"Oh, yes."
"Fast worker."
"No point in sitting around. I . Know the kind of movie you're after. Bombshel should be a statement about women and the way they're used. Am I right?" "Absolutely." Venus Maria looked perplexed. "I stil can't figure out where we met."
"Mickey Stol i's secretary."
"Huh?"
"Remember Mickey Stol i's secretary? The one with the pebbled glasses, bad hair style, and terrible clothes? You were real y sweet to her."
Venus looked perplexed. "Yes, so?"
"It was me."
Venus Maria jumped out of her chair. "You?" she said in amazement. "Oh, come on. You've got to be kidding. You!"
Lucky burst out laughing. "Yes, me. I was in disguise."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Wow!"
"Wel , I didn't want to buy the place and not know what was happening, so I worked at the studio for six weeks to find out a thing or two."
"And did you?"
Lucky drew on her cigarette and smiled. "You could say that."
"I bet!"
"I'm tel ing you because I feel I can trust you. But I don't want the suits knowing. Perhaps I'l tel 'em. Perhaps I won't. Let
'em wonder how I know so much."
"Holy shit!" Venus exclaimed. "This is the greatest. I fucking love it!"
"Anyway," Lucky continued, "the plan is this. We'l get the Bombshel script exactly right, and then we're going to make a terrific movie. I've been thinking about directors.
How about a female?"
"I love women directors," Venus said. "Only every time I mention it around here they look at me like I'm a zombie!"
"It seems to me a woman director is the only way to go. I have several in mind. Have you heard of Montana Grey?"
"I sure have. She wrote and directed that amazing little movie Street People. I think she's great, very talented."
"Good. She's coming in to see me tomorrow. As far as I'm concerned, she'd be perfect. Are you happy with that?"
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