He had a passion for high ceilings, black granite, mirrors
'and other huge expanses of glass. His home was dramatic, to say the least.
The guests had been instructed to arrive before eight, giving Ron plenty of time to see that they were served drinks and a wonderful array of hors d'oeuvre. An army of servants worked ful force while a parade of Hol ywood luminaries kept arriving at the door. Ron didn't know everybody, but Venus Maria's name was enough to get them al out.
Among the first to arrive were several married couples: the Tony Danzas, the Roger Moores, and Michael Caine with his dazzlingly beautiful wife, Shakira. They were fol owed by a smiling Susie Rush in the company of her husband.
Singing star Al King entered next, with his exotic-looking wife, Dal as. And then came a few studio executives, including Zeppo and Ida White, Mickey Stol i, and a disheveled-looking Eddie Kane, whom Ron couldn't remember inviting.
The vibrations were good. There was a definite buzz in the air.
Ron personal y greeted legendary film director Bil y Wilder with his elegant wife, Audrey, unquestionably the chicest woman in town, and waved at the Jourdans, Poitiers, and Davises. The evening was shaping up.
Johnny Romano's silver limo snaked its way along the driveway. Warner sat beside him, knees firmly together, skirt riding high somewhere near the tops of her thighs.
"Hey, baby, how about a little feel?" Johnny encouraged, trying to wriggle his hand between her tightly closed knees.
"Not now," she objected. "Later."
"Now, baby," Johnny said, fingers fighting their way toward his goal. "Johnny says so. C'mon, baby, open up for Daddy."
She slapped his hand away.
"Oh, boy, you got a sharp slap."
"I've been practicing."
He grinned. "Yeah?"
His bodyguards traveled in the car behind. At private functions they attempted to make themselves unobtrusive.
Not easy, but insisted upon by most of the hosts.
"You ever fucked in the back of a limo?" Johnny asked, leering al over her.
She didn't want to tel him that this was the first time she'd been in a limousine, although she'd given out a few tickets in her time. "No," she said.
"Hey, baby--Johnny says your education is not complete.
Johnny's gonna help you out!"
"Not now," she repeated vehemently.
"When?" he demanded. "Tomorrow? You want I should send the car for you in the morning?"
She was planning to spend the night. "I'l be with you in the morning, won't I?"
"Oh, yeah, sure, baby, if that's what you'd like." "That's exactly what I'd like, Johnny." Warner Franklin was not about to get fucked in the back of his car and sent home.
"O. K.,' I'l tel you what, baby. We'l drop by the party, stay an hour, an' when we leave I'l fuck you in the back of the limo. Hey--I'm gonna fuck you al the way home. How about that?"
Warner couldn't help getting excited at the thought. As long as it was his home.
There was something about Johnny Romano that turned her to jel y.
Adam Bobo Grant wouldn't have missed this party for the world. He'd got word of it in New York, telephoned Ron personal y and requested an invitation. Ron had been only too delighted to oblige. Bobo had hopped a plane and flown right out. He was certainly not regretting it. There were stars everywhere. Enough to fil his column for a month.
He cruised the room with a happy little smile*and a retentive memory.
"Amazing house," he complimented Ron. "Simply . . .
different."
Ron was pleased. "Do you real y like it?"
"I just said so, didn't I?" Bobo said tartly, spotting Lionel Richie and his pretty wife, along with Luther Vandross and the Bacharachs.
"Then maybe you'd consider being my house guest, perhaps sometime in the future?"
Bobo didn't commit himself either way. He waved at Tita and Sammy Cahn, who were just coming through the front door, and took off in pursuit of Clint Eastwood.
Eddie wandered around looking for people he knew --for anyone who would talk to him, in fact. Word spread fast, and it was general knowledge he was out at Panther.
He bumped into an actor friend.
"Hey, man, how you doin'?" said his friend.
"Good." He nodded, managing to control his twitch.
His friend glanced around before asking, "Got any blow?"
What was he? A fucking dealer? Why was this schmuck asking him? As a matter of fact, he didn't have any, and if he did, he certainly wouldn't share it with this asshole.
He tried to spot Arnie or Frankie, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Mickey was at the bar speaking to Zeppo White. Eddie was surprised they were stil talking. He'd heard that Zeppo had no intention of quitting Orpheus without a battle. Right now Mickey was out of a job--unless Martin was paying him for doing nothing.
But this was Hol ywood, and in Hol ywood you put on a good face and hoped for the best. Mickey was a survivor--
just like Eddie.
A long line of cars approached the driveway.
"Are you sure we're invited?" Rita asked yet again, anxiously checking her reflection in her compact mirror.
"What if we're thrown out? I mean, I couldn't stand it, Emilio.
I've never been thrown out of anywhere in my life." Which wasn't strictly true, because Rita had been fired from three jobs and thrown out of a topless bar for refusing to sleep with the owner. This of course was in her past, long forgotten. After al , she'd had three speaking roles in movies. She was an actress now.
"What's the matter, don't you trust me or something?"
Emilio snapped. "I'm tel ing you, me and Venus are real tight."
"Did she give you her permission to write al these things about her?"
Emilio wished Rita would quit with the nagging. "I don't have to ask. She understands. When I get the money I'l probably share it with her."
"Oh, like she needs it. Right," said Rita sarcastical y.
"So I won't give her any. It don't matter. We're family. Wil you shut up?"
Rita sighed. "If you say so. But what about the new story?
Al that sex stuff Tony told you? Like how she is in bed, and the first time she did it--al of that?" Christ! What did he have to do--gag her? "Who cares? She won't."
"I don't see how they're going to print it anyway," Rita added, clicking her compact shut.
Emilio wished he could click her mouth shut. She talked too much.
Their car reached the front of the house and valet parkers leaped to attention, opening both doors.
Rita slid from her seat, stood stil for a moment, and pul ed her dress down over her hips. Two of the valet parkers nearly col ided. And then, head held high, she took Emilio's arm and entered the house.
"Who the fuck is that?" Ron muttered, watching Rita sashay into his front hal . She looked like a Hol ywood Boulevard hooker. At least Madame Loretta's hookers presented themselves like ladies.
Ron inwardly groaned when he noticed Emilio on her arm.
This kind of move took bal s. And Emilio didn't have any.
As Ron began to head toward them he was cut off by Antonio. "Ah," said the diminutive photographer, "where is your friend? I talk to him about the photo."
Ron was enraged. Was this midget Italian creep stil after Ken? "He's not here," he said disdainful y. "Not here? I don't understand," replied Antonio, confused.
"Do you have a message?" Ron said. "I'l see he gets it."
Antonio was not to be fobbed off. "Ah, no, I promised to talk with him personal y."
Lecherous little brute. Ron stalked off, forgetting that his purpose had been to throw Emilio and his trampy girlfriend out.
By the time he remembered, they'd vanished into the crowd.
Rita was hot to cruise. They'd actual y gotten into the party, and she wasn't about to hang around with Emilio in his cheap leather outfit. He resembled a Hol ywood Boulevard pimp.
; "Get me a drink, honey. I'm going to the powder room," she purred. "I'l meet you at the bar." Before he could object, she wriggled off.
Heads turned as she passed. She knew she looked outstanding. Why else were they staring? Tonight was the night to make a very big impression. A career impression.
Rita was al set to knock 'em on their Hol ywood asses!
Chapter 98
When Saxon arrived to col ect Abigaile Stol i he was faced with a truculent thirteen-year-old girl.
"Who are you?" Tabitha demanded, staring him down.
What a precocious child. "Saxon," he replied. "You don't look like any of my mother's friends," Tabitha said rudely.
Thank God for that, Saxon thought to himself. "Is your mother around?" he asked. "I'm supposed to be taking her to a party."
Tabitha laughed. "You're taking Mommy to a party? Huh!
Wait til Daddy hears about this." "Aren't your parents separated?" Saxon remarked. "None of your business,"
Tabitha sneered. Fortunately Abigaile chose that moment to appear, quickly waving Tabitha away.
But Tabitha was having none of it. She glared at her mother. "You look stupid," she said. "Why've you got al that makeup on? It doesn't suit you. It's gross. Ugh!"
"Good night, dear," Abigaile said through clenched teeth.
In the car she apologized for her daughter's behavior.
"Tabitha's upset. It's been a most embarrassing time for al of us. I'm sure you heard about my husband's . . .
indiscretion."
Heard! The entire salon had talked of nothing else for days!
He shrugged. "These things happen." Abigaile was wearing a chic Valentino suit, lots of real jewelry, and an abundance of Joy.
"You smel good, Mrs. S.," Saxon said, sniffing the air.
"Thank you." She stared straight ahead. It wouldn't do to encourage him too much. After al , he was merely her escort for the evening, nothing more.
When they arrived, she noticed a few heads turn. Saxon was tal , good-looking, and hardly the man anybody would have expected to replace Mickey.
Ha! Abigaile reveled in the attention.
Spotting Zeppo and Ida White, she took Saxon by the hand and dragged him over.
Ida's lecherous eyes checked him out. Then she drew Abigaile to one side and whispered in her ear, "You came with your hairdresser? It's not on, darling, don't do it again. I know you must be desperate to get back at Mickey--but this kind of behavior is not acceptable."
Abigaile bristled. How dare Ida White give her advice, the permanently stoned old cow.
"He's not my hairdresser, he's my lover," she spat. Ida's eyebrows shot up. She was shocked. "I'm sorry, I . . . I didn't realize," she stuttered.
Abigaile smiled. "Why do you think Mickey had to go to a whorehouse? 1 haven't slept with him in months. Saxon and I are very close." She leaned toward Saxon and gave him an intimate squeeze.
Saxon was as surprised as Ida.
"Come along, darling." Clinging to his arm, she led him away, leaving an openmouthed Ida behind:
It was almost time for Venus Maria to arrive. Ron checked out the guests. Everybody appeared to be having fun, and most people seemed to have got there on time. The only person missing was Martin, but Ken would be bringing him from the airport in time to surprise Venus Maria.
Ron knew Cooper had the plan down pat. He was to col ect Venus Maria, make out they were going to dinner, and, in the car, say, have a surprise for you," blindfold her, and bring her straight to the house.
Venus Maria would go for it. She loved intrigue. When she arrived, Ron had instructed, everyone was to be quiet. He planned to take her into the middle of the room, whip off the blindfold, and have everybody scream "Surprise!"
He made a little announcement to that effect. There was a smattering of applause and some laughter. But they would go along with it. This was Hol ywood, after al . And Venus Maria was a superstar.
Warner held tightly onto Johnny Romano's arm as he made his usual flamboyant entrance. Heads turned. What a couple!
Warner wished her family in Watts could see her now, strol ing into a big Hol ywood party on the arm of a movie star. And not just any old movie star. Johnny Romano! The King!
She wondered how many people in the room she'd given parking tickets to when she was a traffic cop. This was something. Thig was real y something. Warner Franklin and Johnny Romano!
Johnny had a big smile on his face. Tonight was an important night for him. It was the first time he'd been out in public since the Motherfaker receipts had dropped so disastrously at the box office.
Gotta put on a face.
Gotta show them that he didn't give a flying fuck. And with Warner by his side, he felt pretty damn good. She wasn't just another Hol ywood bimbo. She was a woman. Al woman. Six feet of woman.
The first person they ran into after Ron greeted them was Mickey Stol i.
Mickey was shocked.
Warner was delighted.
After saying hel o, Mickey was about to make an excuse and escape, when who came up behind them but Abigaile, dragging some long-haired hunk behind her!
She ignored Mickey altogether. "Warner, dear!" she exclaimed, as if they were the oldest of friends. "How are you? And Johnny, you're looking handsome, as usual."
Mickey could hardly believe this little scene. When had this group gotten al pal y?
He threw Abigaile a low aside. "What are you doing here?
And who's the creep?"
"Creep?" She looked puzzled. "I've no idea what you are talking about."
"The jerk with the heavy metal hairstyle?"
"Oh, do you mean Saxon? Haven't I ever mentioned him to you before? Saxon owns that wonderful salon on Sunset.
Ivana's. Are you sure I haven't mentioned him, Mickey?" At which point she grabbed Saxon's hand and squeezed it.
"Darling, meet my soon to be ex-husband, Mickey Stol i."
Saxon towered over Mickey, as did Warner. "Hey, man, nice to meet you," he said. "Heard a lot of things about you."
"Come on, Saxon," Abigaile said gaily. "We have to circulate." She favored Mickey with a triumphant smile and swept off.
He didn't believe what was going on. Abigaile? Enjoying a party? Smiling? Dragging some guy around? Abigaile was supposed to be sitting in her Hol ywood mansion, sulking.
Mickey Stol i decided this wasn't his night.
Rita caught Mickey on the rebound. "I know you," she said, excitedly pouncing. "I saw your picture in the paper. You're .
. . you're Mickey Sul y. Yes?"
"Stol i." He stared at the cheap-looking girl in the red dress.
Too tight. Too much makeup. Too much hair. "Who are you?"
"I'm Rita."
"Rita who?"
"Rita, the girl who's gonna be the next Venus Maria,"' she said, taking a random shot. "I dance, I sing. In fact"--she moved in a little closer--"anything you want, I do." In case he didn't get the message she added, "And I mean anything."
. Before Mickey could reply, Emilio marched over and yanked her away. "I was waitin' for you at the bar,"_he said accusingly. "Where were you?"
Rita looked at Mickey apologetical y. "My friend--he's a little uptight," she tried to explain.
"Who the fuck's uptight?" Emilio exploded.
"Please excuse us, Mr. Scul y." She hesitated. "Uh . . . are you casting? 'Cause if you are, I'd appreciate it if you'd think about me. Rita. I sing, I dance, I--"
Emilio dragged her off.
In the car heading toward Ron's house, Cooper suddenly pul ed over to the side of the road.
"Oh, no!" Venus Maria mocked. "Remember what happened last time we pul ed over?"
He began to laugh. "This is different."
She put on her businesslike voice. "O. K., what is it this time?"
"I want you to do something for me."
Now she was back to teasing him. "A blow job is out of the question, Cooper."
"Wil you shut up."
"Why?"
>
"Just shut up and put on this blindfold. I've got a surprise for you."
"O000h," she squealed with delight. "I get off on surprises."
"I know. So be a good girl and do as you're told." "I love it when you're firm with me, Cooper."
He took a silk scarf from the glove compartment and tied it around her eyes.
"This is sexy," she said. "I'l have to remember this one.
Where wil I end up, Cooper? Naked in your bed?"
"You're such a flirt, you real y are. And another thing--you're al mouth."
She was amused. "Hmmm, don't you wish." "Can I concentrate on my driving?"
"Can you?" she teased. "Just thinking about me naked in your bed--"
"Enough," he said sternly.
"Tel me where we're going."
"And spoil the surprise? Forget it."
Deena drove down Sunset. The doors of her car were locked. She'd studied a street map of L. A. and Beverly Hil s and knew exactly where she was going. When she reached Doheny Drive she turned right and drove up into the hil s.
Very soon she would be outside Venus Maria's house.
Chapter 99
Lucky thought about tel ing Gino of Carlos Bonnatti's threat, then decided against it. Why worry him? She could handle Carlos. She could handle anything that came her way.
In her evening purse she carried a smal gun for protection.
It was a habit she'd acquired, and it certainly made her feel more secure. Especial y now.
"Goddamn it," Gino groaned. "I hate these parties. Why'd I let you talk me into it?"
"Maybe you'l meet a beautiful movie star and she'l whisk you away from New York and you'l come out here to live,"
Lucky teased.
"Big deal," he snorted. "You've seen one movie star, you've seen 'em al ."
"Whatever happened to Marabel e Blue?"
"She married a bul fighter, and then she married a singer, and after that I don't know."
"Is she stil around?"
"Who cares?"
"If you like, I'l find out."
Gino burst out laughing. "What for? I'm lookin' forward to a quiet life. I'm an old man."
"Wil you stop saying that? It's real y pissing me off. One moment you're tel ing me you're forty-five forever, and the next you're an old man. What happened in between?"
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