"Happy? I'm ecstatic!"
"If she likes the idea, I'l set up a meeting for al three of us."
"Anytime."
"And I want to see a screening of Strut. I understand there's a rough cut. I'm meeting with Cooper Turner, so I'l discuss that with him."
Venus Maria nodded. "You'l like Cooper, he's a good guy.
Don't believe al the stuff you've read about him. Oh--" she added jauntily--"and don't believe al the stuff you've read about me either."
Lucky laughed. "I've had a few headlines of my own.
Believe me, I understand."
"So . . . how are the boys taking your arrival?" Lucky took a drag of her cigarette. "I guess they're not used to having a woman walk in and take over." "No way."
Lucky blew a smoke ring or two. "I always did love a chal enge."
Chapter 72
Emilio Sierra had booked a double room at a fancy hotel in Hawaii overlooking the sea. What he and Rita actual y got when they arrived was a room overlooking the vast outdoor parking lot--a far from spectacular sight.
"This is not good enough," Emilio yel ed angrily.
"It's fine, honey," Rita soothed. "At least we can see the ocean in the distance."
Dumb broad. Why did he always manage to pick the dumb ones?
"It's not fine at al ," Emilio fumed. "I'm kickin' up a stink."
He swaggered down to the reception desk and demanded to see the manager.
Ten minutes later the manager appeared, a tal , thin man with a congenial manner and a constipated smile. "Yes, sir, how may I help you?"
"I requested a room with an ocean view," Emilio said, trying to drag his eyes away from a busty redhead in shorts and a clinging T-shirt as she sashayed on by.
"You're not happy with your room?" questioned the manager, sounding hurt, as if Emilio's complaint was a personal affront.
The redhead swayed out of sight, al owing Emilio to concentrate. "No way, man. It stinks."
"I'm sure it doesn't stink, Mr. --?"
"Sierra," Emilio obliged. "S--I--E--R--R--A," he spel ed out.
"You've no doubt heard of my sister, Venus Maria."
The manager wasn't sure if he believed him or not. But he looked impressed anyway. "Venus Maria?" he said, with just the right note of reverence in his voice. "The singer?"
"And movie star," Emilio boasted. "I'm from Los Angeles.
Wel , Hol ywood, real y. I'm an actor too." The manager nodded. They'd had bigger celebrities. than Venus Maria's brother staying at the hotel. Try the President of the United States.
"Wel ," the manager said, "right now, Mr. Sierra, we don't seem to have anything else. But I can promise you as soon as something becomes available you wil be the first to know."
"Not satisfactory," growled Emilio, deciding he loved having money. It gave him a certain amount of power for the first time in his life.
"It's the best I can do," said the manager, wishing this uncouth-looking person would elect to stay elsewhere.
"Get me somethin' else, or I'm campin' out in the lobby,"
Emilio threatened, continuing to complain until they moved him into a bungalow on the beach. It cost more, but for once Emilio figured he'd go for the big bucks. Now that he had them, he might as wel live it up. Not that Rita appreciated it. She was hot. She was also stupid.
No sooner were they settled in the bungalow than Rita thought she spotted a sand mouse running across the floor.
"Oh, my God!" she screamed hysterical y, jumping on top of the bed: "Emilio! Emilio! There's a mouse!" "So what?" he said, completely unconcerned. "It ain't gonna eat you."
"I'm frightened," she squealed, refusing to get off the bed.
Emilio remembered New York back in the good old days when Venus Maria was just a kid and he could boss her around. She'd been frightened of mice too. He and his brothers had caught three one day and stuffed them in her bed under the sheets. When she'd discovered the grisly surprise, she'd screamed for an hour. But he had to admit she'd gotten her revenge. Two nights later she'd cooked a thick and juicy stew with what appeared to be chunks of chicken in it. Only it turned out it wasn't chicken. She'd cooked the goddamn mice and served them up for dinner!
Rita was not to be placated, so Emilio had to march back to the manager and complain again.
Final y, probably to get rid of him and his bitching, they were ushered into the suite of his dreams--two rooms consisting of a luxurious bedroom complete with vibrating bed and a wel -appointed living room leading out to a large terrace overlooking a blanket of white sand and a gorgeous blue ocean. This was more like it. Even if it was probably going to cost an arm and two legs.
"Satisfied?" he said to Rita.
She nodded.
Later, he stood on the terrace while she unzipped his jeans and showed him exactly how satisfied she real y was.
Sometimes it paid to be extravagant.
The next morning he sent her down to the newsstand instructing her to buy a copy of Truth and Fact. When she brought it back to the room and he read it he was outraged.
Where was the story Dennis had recorded? There wasn't even a picture of him--just the one he'd stolen of Venus and Martin. What kind of deal was this?
In a fury he telephoned Dennis Wal a in Los Angeles.
"Where's my story?" he screamed over the phone. "It was supposed to appear this week."
"Next week," Dennis said. "Read the blurb." "You told me this week, and you've used the picture I gave you," said a disgruntled Emilio. "Listen, man, I've only gotten paid for one week. This is a swindle."
"Hang on a moment, mate," said Dennis, thinking, Here we go again. Why were the relatives of the stars so bloody greedy? "You're making plenty of moola outta this. Your story runs when we decide to run it. You can't tel us what to do."
Emilio slammed down the phone in a rage. Now it would be awkward returning to L. A. Venus Maria had advance warning his story was going to appear. She'd be furious and would certainly be tracking him.
"What's the matter, sweetie?" asked Rita, pirouetting in front of the mirror, admiring her short but otherwise perfect legs.
"Nothing." He wasn't about to confide in her. "Come here."
They made the bed vibrate for ten minutes before going outside to sample the Hawaiian sunshine. Emilio was disappointed to discover there wasn't much Hawaiian sunshine to sample. It was a cloudy day with strong gusty winds.
He chose two prime positions by the pool and they settled down, Rita in a bikini that attracted the attention of every man within fifty yards.
Emilio was pleased. Maybe she wasn't so stupid after al .
He enjoyed' being with a woman who scored so much attention.
At lunchtime Rita suggested that perhaps they should go inside. "It may be cloudy," she said wisely, "but there's stil a real strong sun coming through. You'd better be careful."
"Me?" he boasted, "I never burn, I tan."
"I don't," she said, pul ing up her bikini top which was just about to slip and reveal a perky nipple. "Do you mind if Igo in?"
He didn't mind. He was too busy enjoying the parade of beautiful women in various smal bikinis and great tans.
Come five o'clock Emilio was burned to a crisp. "Jesus!
Why didn't you warn me?" he complained when he final y got back to the suite.
"Honey, I did," Rita pointed out, busily slathering scented cream al over her naked body.
"I don't understand," he whined, feeling sorry for himself. "It was cloudy--how could I burn?"
"It doesn't matter in Hawaii," she explained. "The sun burns right through the clouds. I tried to tel you." "Were you here before?" he asked suspiciously. "Once or twice," she said, deciding not to mention her last trip with two stunt men and a bewigged director with a penchant for discipline.
Emilio was in serious pain. Rita rushed down to the pharmacy and came back with soothing lotions. They didn't help. He suffered al through the night, and not silently.
The next morning, wh
en he regarded his lobster complexion in the mirror, he decided they were going back to L. A.
"I'm not spending al this money to lie around in bed," he complained. "We're gettin' outta here." Rita shrugged.
"Whatever you want."
She'd already decided Emilio was only good for a short ride. While he had the bucks, she was there. Who knew how long it would last?
Chapter 73
"There s a Harry Browning to see you," Otis said. "No appointment. He looks kind of agitated."
Lucky nodded. "It's O. K., show him in."
Harry took a few steps into the room and stopped. He waited until the secretary shut the door behind him and then he stared at Lucky accusingly. "You're Luce, aren't you?"
Final y! Somebody had busted her disguise. "You're the only person who's recognized me," she said. "Pretty sharp of you."
"I thought you were working for Abe Panther." "In a way, I was. We both thought it was a good idea for me to come in undercover. An interesting exercise. I found out plenty."
"You weren't honest with me," Harry said stiffly, obviously uncomfortable with this confrontation.
She wasn't about to explain things further. "I'd be happy for you to stay at the studio, Harry. We're changing things around here. And I'd also like you to report to me personal y."
"Why?" he asked suspiciously.
"Because you want what I want. We're both into making Panther great again. No more exploitation flicks. No more executives playing casting couch with every actress who walks through the door. Are you with me?" *
Slowly he nodded.
Shortly after her meeting with Harry, Susie Rush arrived.
Susie was used to dealing with male executives. She appeared wearing fril s and flounces and a pink ribbon in her hair. Lucky thought she looked like a Kewpie dol .
Susie pursed her lips in a girlish way and said, "Wel , this is quite a shock to the system."
"What can I offer you?" Lucky said, playing it nice and friendly. "A drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"An explanation would be nice. After al , when I signed with this studio, Mickey Stol i was in charge. A change is something I hadn't considered."
"The first thing you should know," Lucky said easily, "is that although you have a development deal at the studio, you're free to do ,anything you want. I'm not holding anybody at Panther against their wil ."
"Oh," Susie said. She hadn't expected that. "However, I also know," Lucky continued, "that you're one of this studio's great assets, and as I've told everyone else, my goal is to bring Panther back to the forefront again. And I love your kind of movies. You make films the whole family can see. You're real y a wonderful actress."
Susie looked at her suspiciously. She wasn't used to receiving compliments from other women. She also wasn't used to seeing women who looked like Lucky Santangelo in positions of power.
"Here's what I'd like you to do," Lucky said, al business.
"Tel me the kind of movie you want to do. I know you're developing a couple of projects at the moment, and if you're happy with those, then we'l certainly consider them."
"Actual y," Susie said, "I feel like a change of pace. My career is in a rut. I have the desire to play a different kind of role."
"What kind of role is that?" Lucky asked.
"I want to play the lead in Bombshel ," Susie said. "As a matter of fact, Mickey promised me I could."
This was a surprise. "Bombshel is a Venus Maria project,"
Lucky pointed out.
"Oh, yes, Mickey had mentioned Venus might be interested. But when I told him I liked the script, he immediately said I could test. I should remind you that normal y I wouldn't dream of testing for anything. But I know I can capture this role. She's me."
"I'l tel you what," Lucky suggested. "Venus Maria is definitely set for Bombshel . But if you have another script, we'l see what we can work out."
Susie's lips tightened into a thin line. "I want to do Bombshel ," she said. "I've been offered another film at Orpheus."
Lucky smiled pleasantly. She wasn't about to be blackmailed by stars and their egos. "Susie, if the role is what you want, then I suggest you take it. As I said before, I'm not holding anybody back."
Susie departed, not quite sure where she was at.
So far so good. Lucky's last meeting of the day was with Cooper Turner. He was in one of the editing rooms, and instead of asking him to come to her she decided to run over there.
Lucky was not impressed by movie stars. She'd observed them al her life. When Gino opened his Vegas hotels, they'd come down for special gambling junkets, openings, and al the big parties. And when she was married to Senator Richmond's son, Craven, celebrities had often made the trek to Washington.
Movie stars equaled fragile egos--she was wel aware of that. Now, dealing with them on a one-to-one basis was interesting and a definite chal enge.
Cooper Turner was better-looking than on the screen, with his boyishly handsome face, rumpled hair, and penetrating ice-blue eyes. He had a devastating smile, which he put into immediate action. "So you're my new boss, huh?"
"Yes," she said, going for a handshake.
He took her hand and gave it an extra squeeze. Behind his horn-rimmed glasses he favored her with a penetrating look. "You're a surprise," he said. "I was expecting a dragon lady."
"Looks don't matter," she said.
"Sure they do," he said casual y, removing his glasses.
"Beautiful women always get more attention. Not that I'm saying you're not smart, but looks help. And honey--you've got 'em."
She threw it right back at him. "And, honey, so have you."
He laughed. "Touche, Miz Santangelo."
"I'm looking forward to viewing a rough cut of Strut. When can I?" she asked, getting down to the purpose of her visit.
"How about next week sometime?"
"Sounds good. Was this your directorial debut?" Without the glasses, his eyes were lethal weapons. "You mean you haven't been fol owing my career?" She returned his stare, matching his gaze with her black Santangelo eyes. "Let's put it this way--your career has not been the center of my universe."
He laughed again. "No--as a matter of fact, I've directed one dog before, but this one's going to be better. Venus Maria gives a very special performance."
"So I've heard."
"Ah, the rumor is around the studio. That's good." "It appears your movie is the only decent one we've got going for us. Have you seen Motherfaker?"
"My time is valuable. I don't believe in self-punishment."
Now it was her turn to laugh. "I know what you mean. Can we have lunch together next week? There's a lot I feel we need to discuss. The marketing of Strut is crucial."
"Why don't I take you to dinner?" he suggested. She put the meeting back on track. "Have you met my husband, Lennie Golden?"
"You're married to Lennie?" he said, surprised. "You didn't know?"
"Hey--I've fol owed your career about as closely as you've fol owed mine."
"My turn to say Touche, huh?"
He dazzled her with a movie-star smile. "I guess so. Lunch, then. I'd like that."
The only star she had yet to see was Charlie Dol ar, and he was out of the country, due back in a couple of weeks.
Charlie had nothing in preproduction. She put out the word:
"Find a property suitable for Charlie Dol ar. Something sensational."
Her final meeting of the day was with the Sleazy Singles, Arnie Blackwood and Frankie Lombardo. Arnie, the lean and lanky one with the greasy hair pul ed back in a ponytail, and mirrored shades covering watery eyes, was the first to speak. "Congrats, sweetie. This is gonna be a piece of pie."
Frankie, with the freaked-out brown hair and unruly beard, joined in, "Yeah, cutie, we're al gonna work together like we been in bed al our lives."
"Fortunately," said Lucky with a pleasant smile, "we haven't."
They both guffawed.
"She's got a sense of humor," Arnie said.
&nbs
p; "What's a good-looking broad like you doing in a job like this anyway?" Frankie asked, col apsing his bulky frame into a chair.
"Probably the same as a handsome man like yourself,"
Lucky replied sarcastical y. "And may I remind you, it's not a job--I own Panther."
Frankie didn't like that.
Arnie walked over to the conference table, put his hands on it, and leaned across it. "Are you here to stay?" he demanded. "Or is this a temporary measure? What's the deal, Lucky? Have you bought the studio to sel out the land and then get out, or what?" "I'm here to stay," she replied with a cold smile. "How about you?"
"Oh, we're here to stay, al right," Arnie replied, taking off his mirrored shades, polishing them on a corner of his shirt, and putting them back on again. Frankie brushed his hands through his unruly long hair and pul ed on his scruffy beard.
Both men appeared to be stoned.
"I'm canceling your two current projects," Lucky said. "I may as wel get straight to it--I don't like 'em. They're not the kinds of films Panther is going to continue to make."
"You're doing what, baby?" Arnie questioned disbelievingly.
"Aren't I making myself clear?" she replied, cool and in control. "If you need an interpreter I'l be happy to supply one."
"Where have I seen you before?" Frankie got to his feet.
"Let's just say I've been around the studio for some time. I know everything that's going on."
"Everything, huh?" Arnie sneered.
"That's right," she replied, trying to stay calm, although these two assholes could real y send her out of control.
"O. K., sweetie, we're gonna give you a break. We won't take you seriously. We got two movies shooting now, an'
three in preproduction. Our movies keep Panther in the black. You know what I mean? Our movies score al the profit around here, while your so-cal ed superstars make al the flops."
"Yes," Lucky said calmly. "But I'm here to tel you the system just changed. I don't care for the kind of movies you make. I don't appreciate seeing girls having their clothes ripped off and heads bashed in. Rape and mutilation don't do it for me. Am I making myself clear?"
"Wake up and smel the box office," said Arnie with an insulting leer. "It's what's goin' on out there."
Lady Boss (1990) Page 41