Sins of the Flesh

by Fern Michaels

  Bebe nodded. She had no desire to tear down anything that had proved successful for Reuben. The studio was in the black, which was all she was interested in at the moment. Until she understood the studio’s policy 100 percent, she wasn’t going to tamper with anything, and that included employment contracts.

  Bebe dove into the mound of folders on her desk while Willie snoozed contentedly under her desk. By four o’clock she had a fairly good idea how scripts were acquired and why some were chosen over others that were rejected outright.

  Two things happened when she tossed the last folder onto her “finished” pile: Tillie ushered Nellie Bishop into her office and at the same time announced that the United States Army was on the phone. Bebe blinked in surprise and motioned Nellie to sit down across from her desk. On the telephone she announced herself briskly and then listened while the person at the other end of the line boomed out his request.

  “General Barrows, let me see if I have this straight. You want my studio to make three featured shorts with scantily clad girls selling war bonds. You did say scantily clad, did you not?” She listened carefully. “I see; you want female Uncle Sam outfits on the girls, short skirts full of sparkles and pretty smiles. You want the shorts filmed at actual bond rallies and not here at the studio.” She looked up to see Tillie holding a card with huge dollar signs on it and had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from laughing. “Gratis, General! Tell me something, how many of the other studios turned you down?” This time she did laugh when the general sputtered into the phone. “Everyone here at the studio is extremely patriotic, but our stars have contracts and clauses in them that forbid outside employment…. Of course, I understand that we control our stars. I’ll take the matter up with our board tomorrow and get back to you by the end of the day.” She copied down a phone number where the general could be reached. When she hung up the phone she signaled to Tillie.

  “Find out who handles any charity work we do and which department could take this on. I think we should do it, what do you think, Nellie?” she asked suddenly.

  “I think it’s wonderful!” Nellie cried. “It’s very good exposure for the studio and patriotic as well. The public will appreciate our efforts. I’ll be glad to help. When I’m finished in production, of course. On my own time,” she added.

  Bebe smiled at her. “That’s very nice of you, Nellie. My goodness, you’re all grown-up. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. Your doting father was telling me this morning how pretty you’ve become, and he didn’t exaggerate a bit.” Nellie flushed becomingly. “I was sorry to hear about your mother.”

  Nellie lowered her eyes. “Thank you. It…it was so sudden. She was so…so very unhappy for a long time.” She sniffed delicately. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry. Tell me, are you grasping how things are done in production?” Bebe asked.

  Nellie nodded. “More or less, but I have a lot to learn. I’m going to be an apprentice for a long time. It’s fascinating work.”

  Bebe riffled through the folders on her desk. When she found what she was looking for, she handed the folder to Nellie. “Do you by any chance know why Jane rejected this?”

  Nellie pretended to read the proposal inside the manila folder, although she knew exactly what it was. Jane had asked her opinion on it, and she’d criticized the outline as being rather silly, nothing more than an inane idea for a Saturday afternoon serial. Of course, she’d known that Jane had been considering the proposal seriously until she’d voiced her opinion. Now she realized that Bebe must like it, too, since it was the only file she had pulled from the thick stack on her desk. After a moment’s hesitation, Nellie gambled.

  “I think Danny’s Raiders is a wonderful idea. As a matter of fact, I even interjected some ideas of my own for plots. I’m not so old I don’t remember what it was like to be fourteen and fifteen. I also made one other suggestion, that Danny should have two girls in his group to offset the whole thing. Girls go to matinees, too, and they like to have adventures just the way boys do. I told Jane that young people with brothers in the military needed some respite from their concerns. Maybe I’m not expressing this in the right way.” She was careful to allow just the right amount of anxiousness to creep into her voice. She relaxed when she saw Bebe smile.

  “Did Philippe see this?” Bebe asked.

  Nellie’s mind raced again, and she gambled a second time. “I don’t know if he actually saw it, but we talked about it. He liked the idea, we both did, but because Jane is such a good friend of his father’s, he was reluctant to…step on her toes. Uncle Reuben has told me more than once that Jane never makes mistakes. It wasn’t my place to…you know.” Nellie hesitated, then added delicately, “You won’t say anything to Jane about what I just said, will you? She isn’t…what I mean is she…she isn’t that easy to…work with.”

  Bebe had never really known Jane Perkins on a personal level, but she’d heard Reuben talk about her often enough. He’d ranked her so high in the industry, she’d been jealous of the plain woman with the plain-sounding name. Jealous of her ability and her position at the studio.

  Now, as head of the studio, she had final script approval, as did Reuben. Should she go ahead and option Danny’s Raiders and undermine Jane, or should she let it go? She had a gut feeling about the script, an instinct that said it would work if properly developed, and Nellie’s suggestion was a good idea. After all, young people and women were the biggest moviegoers.

  Nellie was sitting on the edge of her chair waiting for Bebe’s decision, and something in the young girl’s eyes—some hint of speculative anticipation, perhaps—led Bebe to rise, signaling the end of their meeting.

  “I understand, Nellie. Of course I won’t say anything. And I’ll let you know when I’ve made my decision on Danny’s Raiders. We’ll talk again…soon.”

  Nellie’s direct gaze shifted to the open door as she stood in response to Bebe’s dismissal. She’s annoyed, Bebe thought. The tight set of the girl’s slim shoulders reminded Bebe of herself when she was her age. When things didn’t go the way she planned, she used to draw into herself, tightening her shoulders as she started to scheme to make things work the way she wanted.

  Bebe laughed at herself when the door closed. Nellie was Daniel’s daughter. No, Rajean’s daughter, she corrected herself. In the future she would have to pay attention to that.

  Sensing his mistress’s distress, Willie whined and slinked out from his position under the desk. He belly-whopped over to Bebe, his tail thumping on the carpet. “I don’t know why, Willie, but that girl unsettles me,” Bebe murmured. Willie growled low in his throat, his way of showing support.

  Nellie was bristling with suppressed anger when she returned to her cubicle outside Jane’s office. She hadn’t meant to come back to the office, but she’d stupidly forgotten her purse. Jane was talking on the other side of the partition, and she listened shamelessly, knowing her boss was unaware of her presence. Some sixth sense alerted her that Jane’s phone call had something to do with her. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to listen.

  “It isn’t any one thing, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is exactly that’s bothering me. She’s amenable, she takes direction well, she asks the right questions, perhaps she asks too many, I don’t know…more than anything, I’m just not comfortable with her. Sometimes I have this feeling that she’s waiting…waiting for me to make a mistake. And then she’ll pounce. Tell me I’m being silly.”

  Nellie’s hands clenched into tight fists. She was talking about her. But to whom? Bebe? Certainly not to her father or Philippe. A friend, obviously a close one, someone she confided in. Nellie continued to listen as Jane’s voice changed subtly.

  “Daniel is a gift, something I never thought I’d have in this life. Every time I see him it’s like getting a present; now, isn’t that silly?” She laughed softly. “Oh, Aaron was nice and comfortable, but there was no sparkle, no deep, heavy breathing, if you
know what I mean.” She laughed again, an intimate sound, one shared only between friends who understood each other. “Daniel makes my blood sing, and at my age that’s a remarkable feat, don’t you think?”

  Nellie wished she could hear the person on the other end of the line. Jane’s voice changed again, the worry and anxiety was back. “Daniel thinks the world of his daughter. He thinks she’s more wonderful than peanut butter, and, yes, you’re right, it’s going to be a problem. He talks about her all the time, and he should, she’s his daughter and he feels this tremendous responsibility toward her.” Jane’s voice grew stronger, more confident. “I’m sure I’m imagining things. Look, I have to go now; I’m meeting Daniel and I want to freshen up…. Good heavens, Gloria, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I don’t think the girl is gunning for me or anything like that…. Yes, I understand, and I will be careful. Look, I’m sorry if I burdened you with…it was…I needed to talk to someone. Let’s just forget the whole thing. Lunch on Friday sounds great. Off the lot, okay. I’ll meet you at the gate and we’ll drive down to the wharf for a nice fish lunch. Remember, fish isn’t fattening.”

  Nellie moved quickly away from her cubicle. If Jane was going to freshen up, she would pass her desk on her way to the restroom. Quickly she left the office and ran across the lot to her father’s office, zigzagging so she wouldn’t bump into the work crews on their way home. When she reached the top of the steps she was gasping for breath. She burst through the private door to Daniel’s office and planted a loud kiss on her father’s cheek.

  “I ran all the way,” she said. “I wanted to get here before you left. I’m taking you to dinner, and I don’t want to hear you say no. I never see you anymore. You’re always with Jane. I might as well have stayed in Washington,” she babbled, knowing guilt would get her what she wanted.

  She was right, Daniel thought guiltily. Over the past few weeks he’d virtually abandoned his daughter. And now she wanted to spend a little time with him, take him to dinner for the pleasure of his company. How miserable she looked, how unhappy. My God, how could he have neglected her like this?

  “Listen, honey, dinner sounds wonderful,” he said warmly. “I’ll even let you pay if you insist, but would you mind if Jane comes with us? I did make plans with her, and this is pretty much last minute.”

  “I don’t mind,” Nellie said listlessly, all the sparkle leaving her face. “It’s, oh, I don’t know, I see her all day at the office and I sort of wanted to be alone with you. But I don’t mind. Look, Daddy, this was last minute, too, so why don’t you go ahead with Jane. I’ll take Philippe to dinner.”

  Daniel’s heart turned over. How woebegone she looked. Jane would understand if he explained it to her, and maybe if he and Nellie made an early night of it, he could see Jane later. She was so understanding; that was one of the things he loved about her.

  “Not on your life,” he said, squeezing her hand fondly. “I’ll call Jane now and tell her you’re taking me out. She’ll understand. Honey, I’m so sorry I’ve neglected you the way I have. From now on we’re going to do more things together. I promise. Forgive me?”

  “Oh, Daddy, you are so wonderful! It’s just that I get blue sometimes. I’ve been thinking about Mother all day today, and I guess it sort of got to me late this afternoon when I saw Bebe. You’re all I have in the whole world and…” Nellie dabbed at her eyes and swallowed the way she had when she was little. “I…I’ll go powder my nose while you call Jane.”

  Jane hugged her arms to her chest when she hung up the phone. How cold she felt…how very angry. She didn’t like the feeling. She didn’t like Nellie Bishop, it was that simple. Nellie Bishop was starting to frighten the hell out of her.

  All day she’d looked forward to seeing Daniel, had worked conversations through her mind, things they would say to each other, imagined looks, soft touches. Dammit, she needed Daniel. Tonight was supposed to be special, at least she’d thought so. And now this. Something about it bothered her…it seemed a little too coincidental, Nellie’s overwhelming desire to spend time with her father on this of all nights.

  Impulsively, she picked up the phone and called Philippe’s office. Without meaning to she blurted out, “Will you be seeing Nellie this evening?”

  Philippe’s voice was cold and sounded hostile to Jane’s ears. For God’s sake, what was his problem?

  “Our plans were canceled.” You should know, he wanted to say, you’re the reason they were canceled, you and your determination to introduce Nellie to every available man in California. “Is there anything else?” he asked curtly.

  “No, I’m sorry I bothered you, Philippe. It wasn’t all that important, it can wait till morning.”

  The shiny black telephone glared at Jane. Suddenly she hated it. But how could she blame a telephone for what was happening? It was merely an instrument people used to convey their thoughts and opinions.

  Jane felt shame and rejection as she prepared to leave the office for a lonely evening at home. And she wasn’t overreacting; she wasn’t being a silly, jealous woman. What she was, she decided later in the evening, was a frightened woman, afraid of losing the man she loved. She tried to quiet her jangling thoughts by remembering Daniel’s last words. He’d said he would call or stop by if it wasn’t too late. Yes, that’s what would see her through the evening.

  It was a quarter past ten when Daniel picked up the phone to call Jane. Nellie snatched the phone out of his hand. “Oh, Daddy, you are so inconsiderate. It’s ten-fifteen, Jane is probably asleep. She was complaining today about how tired she was. She’s probably sleeping right this minute. You’ll wake her, and then you’ll feel just terrible. I swear, Daddy, I’m going to have to teach you how to treat a lady,” she said in mock seriousness.

  “I suppose you’re right, but I did say I’d call,” Daniel said lamely.

  “Daddy, ladies, especially ladies like Jane, do not sit around waiting for men to call late at night. Aaron was always a perfect gentleman.”

  “Aaron who?” Daniel asked.

  “I guess he was her last gentleman friend. I heard her telling someone today what a gentleman he is and how fond she was of him. Maybe he’s a business associate, and I…She’s very fond of you, Daddy,” she said hastily when she saw her father’s face darken.

  Without another word, Daniel kissed his daughter good night and went upstairs to bed. He would take his daughter’s advice. She might be young, but she was a woman, and women understood other women. Men, as Reuben had pointed out, never did and never would understand the female species.

  When the phone rang at eleven-thirty Nellie snatched it up on the first ring. As she’d expected, it was Jane. Nellie made her voice sound sleepy and groggy. “Wha…time is it?…My goodness, Jane, Daddy fell asleep the minute we got home, around eight-thirty or so. Do you want me to wake him? I will if you want me to, but Daddy is a bear when you wake him out of a sound sleep.”

  “No, don’t wake him, Nellie. Just leave a message that I called.”

  “I’ll do that.” Nellie deliberately scribbled something on the pad by the phone that even she couldn’t decipher. And why should she be expected to remember phone calls late at night, especially those that woke her out of a sound sleep?

  Nellie waited a full five minutes before she picked up the phone a second time. She dialed Philippe’s number from memory and waited until he answered on the fifth ring. His voice was gruff, and he sounded annoyed. Well, she would change all that in a second, Nellie thought. “Hi, Philippe, I just called to say good night. I hope you aren’t angry with me for canceling our plans this evening. I had no other choice, you know.” She rushed on, not giving Philippe a chance to respond. “I kept wishing I were with you and wondering what you were doing. I just got home this minute and decided to call you. What did you do all evening?”

  Philippe’s voice thawed and grew warm. “I read most of the evening. I wrote a letter to my mother I know will probably never reach her. A quiet evening. Did you en
joy yours?” He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but he wanted to know.

  “It was all right. He smiled all night long. I guess movie stars have to do that. He had so many teeth, Philippe, he reminded me of a shark. He talked a lot about himself and how much money he made and how really, really famous he was going to be someday. He said I was prettier than a movie star. Dinner was terribly expensive. I hardly ate a bite. You know, Philippe, now that I’m home I can’t even remember what he looks like.” She giggled, and Philippe laughed, which was exactly the response she wanted.

  They talked for another ten minutes or so and then hung up. Philippe would dream about her all night long, and she would dream, too—-about attending the Academy Award ceremonies as the wife of the most powerful man in Hollywood. In her dream she’d wear a virginal white gown, but when the time actually came, she’d wear a stunning red sheath, off the shoulder, and full of sequins or maybe rhinestones. Diamonds in her ears, of course, and on her wrists. She’d have her shoes dyed to match the dress and full of the same glitter, but maybe just on the heels so they shimmered and sparkled when she walked. Smiling, she reached out to sleep, welcoming it.

  In the morning she was disappointed that her sleep had been dreamless.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The winter sun bathed the French countryside in a dazzling, blinding light, but only for a moment. Clouds, thick and gray, were moving in, and new snow would fall, hopefully enough to obliterate the footprints of the Resistance members as they made their way in a single file to what they had been told was a deserted village—deserted by the French, but not by the Germans, who manned a command post outside the village church.