by Rona Jaffe
“Oh, nothing,” Fred squeaked. “I’m an heiress.”
“She’s my favorite model,” Franco said. “Did you see her picture in Time with me?”
“Yes,” Gerry said. “You looked very lovely,” she said to the girl. The girl shrugged, bored.
“What do you do?” Fred asked Mad Daddy.
“I have a television show.”
“Oh? I never watch television.”
“You should watch him,” Gerry said. “He’s marvelous. The Mad Daddy Show.”
“Oh, all right,” Fred said pleasantly, as if she was doing them all a favor. Mad Daddy seemed to be cringing. The girl obviously frightened him as much as the socialites at the party.
Libra came plowing his way through the crowd, alone. He patted Franco on the shoulder and gave Fred a look of pure, slavering lust. “Glad you could come,” he said to her.
“Mmm,” Fred said.
Gerry figured that Fred was window dressing for Franco and had really been brought for Libra. She wondered if Libra was considering replacing the deceased Douglas Henry with a model-turned-starlet, but figured with her voice the girl didn’t have a chance. If she could be in a silent movie she could capture the world.
“A very good turn-out of clients,” Libra said approvingly to Franco. “You’re here, Nelson and the B.P.’s are here, of course, Arnie Gurney, Dick, Daddy, the King James Version and Silky and the Satins are coming, and Zak Maynard’s in the other room. You know him,” he said to Gerry. “The super-beauty new male star, a male Fred.” He winked at Fred. “The only ones who aren’t here are Shadrach Bascombe, who’s at training camp getting ready for his next fight, and Sylvia Polydor, who wouldn’t go across the street to go to a party, especially fly from California. Do you know that Sylvia won’t fly? She still hires an entire car of the damn train, just to come here. An entire car! She’s wonderful.”
“Zak Maynard isn’t a male me,” Fred said. “I went out with him once. He’s a moron.”
“Mrs. Einstein ought to know,” Libra said sarcastically. “Come on, Gerry, I want to borrow you and introduce you to Zak.”
Gerry hoped Dick would follow them, and he did. She was flattered. He had evidently gone out with enough Freds not to be impressed any more. She followed Libra into the living room, which was more mobbed than ever, and was pleased when Dick casually took her hand in preparation for her exposure to Zak the super-beauty.
Zak was in the corner talking to Lizzie Libra. He had thick, sexy, golden-brown hair, broad shoulders, slumberous golden eyes, and a young, sensual mouth. He towered over Lizzie by about a foot He looked just like his pictures: cinemascope and pure technicolor.
“Zak Maynard, my new assistant, Gerry Thompson. And Dick Devere, who, if you’re very lucky, might direct you in a show one day.”
Zak enveloped Gerry’s hand in his and threw her a few sparks from the golden eyes. “Hell-o,” he said, looking her up and down. Finally he released her hand and shook hands with Dick.
“I think he’s wonderful,” Lizzie said to her husband. “Why haven’t you ever brought him around to the office?”
“Because he sleeps all day,” Libra said.
“Are you in love with this man?” Zak asked Gerry, indicating Dick.
“I love all the clients,” Gerry said sweetly. “And they love me. I formerly worked at the 4-H Club.”
“I was in the 4-H Club when I was a kid,” Zak said. “I took all the little girls behind the haystack.”
“That was before you started to sleep all day,” Lizzie said.
“Dinner is served,” a butler said discreetly.
They went into the dining room, which was decorated like an arbor, with a roof of leaves lit mysteriously from above and rows of real trees and bushes planted all around the edges of the room. In the center of the dining room was a long table with a flowered Porthault cloth, bearing silver chafing dishes and silver platters artfully decorated with exotic food. The lobster salad was crowned with a whole lobster, there was some sort of fish mousse, salad, rolls, and all the accompaniments for an Indian curry, which was what the chafing dishes contained. The silverware was heavy, bearing the crest of the Potter family, and the napkins were from Porthault too.
After they helped themselves to food a butler directed them into the Turkish Room, where small round tables had been set up, each covered with the same Paisley print that covered every wall of the room and all the chairs, couches, and floor pillows. It was a little dizzying. There were tall, delicate crystal wineglasses on each table, and three of the butlers were busy filling them part way with wine.
Gerry saw Mad Daddy and Elaine sitting at a table which had two empty seats, and she and Dick went there and sat down. Elaine had her drink on the table next to her wineglass, and she really was looking drunk by now. Mad Daddy’s plate contained salad and a roll.
“What is that stuff?” he asked, looking at Gerry’s plate.
“Curry.”
“I hate curry,” he said morosely. “And that fish stuff scares me. I wish they’d have hamburgers or something.”
“You have no class,” Elaine said.
“Maybe I have class,” Mad Daddy said, “but my stomach has the same old class I was born with. Waiter!”
“Yes, sir?” the butler said.
“Do you think I could get a Coke?”
“Of course, sir,” the butler said, looking as if Mad Daddy had asked for hemlock.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Elaine said, taking Mad Daddy’s wine and pouring it into her already empty wineglass. “Do you know what he did once? We went to Pavilion, and he asked them for a club sandwich. I was so embarrassed.”
“They gave it to me, didn’t they?” Mad Daddy said. “They have more class than you do. They aren’t snobs.”
“Don’t you call me a snob in front of those people!” Elaine snapped. Mad Daddy tried to take her wine away but she pulled at it and spilled it on the tablecloth.
“The evening is finally getting interesting,” Dick said.
“I’m not going to fight with you, Elaine,” Mad Daddy said mildly.
“Just take your hands off me, that’s all,” Elaine snapped. She beckoned to the butler. “More wine, please. My clumsy husband spilled his.”
Gerry felt embarrassed for Mad Daddy. She smiled at him and he smiled back. He cut his roll in half to make a sandwich and filled it with some of the salad.
“Oh my God,” Elaine said. The butler appeared with more wine and refilled all their glasses. She drank hers down defiantly. “I hate those people in there,” Elaine said. “And those people in here. They’re all stinking snobs.”
“I think they’re pretty nice,” Mad Daddy said, just to annoy her.
“You would! The big star, getting all the attention.”
“You didn’t mind that I was a star when you met me.”
“Are you going to start on that again?”
“You brought it up.”
“I’m going to bring up my dinner if you don’t shut up.”
“What dinner?” Mad Daddy said.
Elaine gritted her teeth and glared at her husband, evidently trying to decide whether to waste the wine by throwing it in his face. She decided against it, and lapsed into a seething silence. Gerry and Dick ate as fast as they could.
When the dessert was served, chocolate mousse, the sound of a band tuning up was heard from the Chinese Room. It was the King James Version, assaulting the ears with electronically amplified experiments. Then they began to play in earnest and it was not bad at all, especially since they were a room away. It was almost as loud as if they had been right in there with the diners. Gerry hoped the building was soundproof. She looked around the room and saw that Lizzie was still with Zak; Franco was with Libra, the B.P.’s, Fred, and a man whom she recognized as the Senator. Libra must really like Fred if he had maneuvered to have her at the same table with the brass, since most of the couples had split up. Penny B.P.’s mother was sitting with the Senator’s
wife, the Ambassador, and the Ambassador’s wife. Arnie Gurney was with some people she did not know, regaling them with jokes, and Arnie Gurney’s wife was across the room looking uncomfortable with Nelson and the two fruits and a terribly jet-set looking girl who was wearing a wedding ring and a diamond engagement ring the size of a pigeon’s egg. There was demitasse after the mousse, and an assortment of fine brandies, and then the B.P.’s led the people at their table into the room where the music was pounding. Almost everyone followed them. Dick and Gerry jumped up instantly, said good-bye to Mad Daddy and Elaine, and hurried to the Chinese Room as fast as they could.
The King James Version had established themselves on a large square of something that looked like lucite, and they were all dressed in biblical robes with long, thick, clean hair. They all looked like young studs, but even though some of the women were as close as they could get to the band, disregarding their eardrums in favor of sex, the five boys had their eyes closed, grooving to their own beat. The lead singer was standing, with his eyes shut and his hands over his ears, screaming into the microphone. There was something almost insulting about the way he had closed himself into his private world; it was not so much as if he were trying to concentrate as that he seemed disgusted by the people who were admiring him. The women who stood in front of him gazing at him raptly seemed charmed by his arrogance, and some of them were even touching him, pretending it was accidental, in order to wake him up.
The B.P.’s were dancing wildly, showing off the new dances which they knew perfectly. Gerry noticed two gossip columnists in the crowd. She felt like dancing, but Dick was just standing there, looking at the group, and he was not even tapping to the beat.
“Don’t you dance?” she asked.
“Only if I have to. Do you want to?”
“Maybe later. I’m going to find the ladies’ room.” She left the room and looked around. A maid came by and Gerry was directed downstairs.
The lower floor of the duplex was lovely, bathed in lambent golden light. The hallway and one room, which was evidently a library, were done in old Spanish style. This apartment was turning into a house of all nations. There were several doors leading into other rooms. One was half open, and she saw that it was done like a child’s room, except that there was a huge king-sized bed in the center of it. Everywhere there were tiny flowers printed on walls and material, and there was a lot of white wicker. There were various dolls and toys lined up on the dresser, and there was a dressing table covered with bottles of perfume and make-up. Since the B.P.’s had no children, she realized they were the children. Their bedroom was the only young thing about them except for their dancing; the party, their friends, and the apartment looked as if they belonged to people at least twice their age. She headed for the bathroom, but realized Fred and Nelson were already in there, Nelson recombing Fred’s hair.
Gerry was just going out into the hall again when she saw Lizzie Libra leading Zak Maynard by the hand. “Oh, Zak,” Lizzie whispered, “you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.” They opened one of the doors and looked in, then, reassured that the room was empty, they entered it and Gerry distinctly heard the sound of the old-fashioned key turning in the lock. Well, well, she thought. It would be nice if that room were decorated with haystacks.
So Lizzie fools around with clients. Well, why not? Libra fooled around with clients. Still, she would have thought Lizzie was above being impressed by these vapid people her own husband had created. Of all people, Lizzie Libra should know what a sham and a fake most of these people were. Lizzie had been around all of them from the beginning of their transformation. But Zak was beautiful and sexy, and probably the question would be more apt if she had asked herself what a young man like him saw in Lizzie.
She finally found that one of the doors led to a bathroom, deceptively done like an office, with brown marble, armoires, a petit-point toilet-seat cover, and a large, upholstered armchair with a TV set in front of it. The walls were paneled in dark wood, and you had to call a committee meeting to find the toilet paper.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Lizzie and Zak, even though she had seen things like that ever since she started working around movie people. But he was twenty-five years old, and Lizzie was at least forty. Yet Lizzie had gotten him just like that—zap! It had been rumored around the Industry that Zak Maynard would screw a snake, and that he’d probably be the first person to find out how, too. Yet there were plenty of younger, prettier girls than Lizzie Libra at this party. And it wasn’t that Zak had to be nice to Lizzie to get to Libra, for if Libra found out he would hardly consider the client going to bed with his wife nice. Libra seemed a strict double-standard man, so much so that he wouldn’t even allow himself to suspect that Lizzie was cheating, because it would upset him too much and take his mind off business.
I wonder what Lizzie has … Gerry thought. Obviously what a man found desirable wasn’t what she as a woman thought he would prefer. It certainly was a mystery. She thought about Dick. Did he think she, Gerry, was desirable? He hadn’t indicated anything, but a woman could tell there was interest there. Dick seemed like the sort of man who wanted the woman to make the first move. Or did he only act that way because he was taken?
“Hello.” The soft voice was unmistakable; it was Silky. Gerry turned around.
“Hi!”
“You’re staring at the mirror like Alice Through the Looking Glass,” Silky said with a giggle. “Are you goin’ to jump right through it?”
“I’d like to,” Gerry said. “This party is a drag.” She wondered if Silky knew she had come with Dick. “Are you going to sing soon?”
“Soon as I see how I look.” Silky peered into the mirror with obvious distaste, and wrinkled up her nose. She was wearing the group’s costume: a white brocade knicker suit this time, and the Buster Brown wig. “Ugh!”
“You look great,” Gerry said.
“From a hundred feet away maybe. I called you earlier, but you weren’t home.”
“I was here. I wanted to call you, too, but you were out of town. How did it go?”
“Great,” Silky said. “Lots of people. Good reviews. Did you see the reviews?”
“I’ve been keeping a scrapbook of them for the office. We’re all thrilled.”
“Did you come with Mr. and Mrs. Libra?” Silky asked, too casually.
“No.” Oh, well, why make it seem more important than it was? “Dick Devere brought me because I didn’t know anybody.”
“Oh,” Silky said, almost too kindly. “That was nice.”
“Look …” Gerry said. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too personal, but if you and Dick are dating or anything I wish you’d tell me and I won’t see him. He doesn’t mean anything to me except as a friend and a client. I’m new here, and if you don’t tell me I can’t help it if I tread on your property by accident, can I?”
“Property?” Silky said thoughtfully. “No man is any woman’s property unless they’re living together. Dick and I aren’t living together. He’s just a very dear friend. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it isn’t true.”
“I haven’t heard anything,” Gerry said.
“Well, then, there’s nothing to hear.”
She saw Silky’s hand was shaking as she tried to put on her lipstick. What a lot of pride that girl had! She must have been kicked around a lot. Silky’s sweetness upset Gerry more than if she had made a scene.
“I hope we can be friends,” Gerry said. “I like you … a lot.”
Silky turned around and looked at her. “It takes a long time to make a friend,” she said. Then she smiled quickly, that smile that never reached her eyes, and said: “Oh, I didn’t mean that personally. I like you very much. I’m sure we can be friends.”
“Could we have lunch next week?”
“If you don’t mind a coffee shop,” Silky said. “I can’t stand to get dressed up during the day.”
“That would be great. I’m saving money to buy furniture.”
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“Furniture?”
“I just got a new apartment.”
“I wish I had an apartment,” Silky said. “Mr. Libra makes us live in that hotel. Not that I don’t like the hotel, it’s a groovy hotel, but I’d like to own something of my own. But we travel so much I guess an apartment would be silly.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well, I have to go to work now,” Silky said. “Are you coming?” She led the way out of the bathroom. In the hall Gerry saw the four Satins emerging from another bathroom, and Silky joined them without a word. Gerry hurried upstairs to find Dick. She wondered if she shouldn’t try to meet another man here. After all, this was a party; there had to be someone here who wasn’t married or a snob. Now that Silky had arrived, Gerry wondered which of the two of them Dick would decide to take home. No matter what her mother had warned her about New York at night, she was perfectly well prepared to take a taxi home alone. She was sure she wouldn’t be mugged. After all, it was just a party. She hadn’t expected to meet her future husband here. Where she would meet him was a mystery she didn’t seem to be able to shed any light on.
Silky and the Satins had brought their own musicians—this party was going to cost the B.P.’s a bundle. Gerry found a place on the floor between Dick and Mad Daddy. Elaine was off in the corner with Arnie Gurney’s wife; they were both drunk and grouchy and looked like the two Furies, or was it the two Fates? Gerry glanced around the room and saw that the faces of all the women were sparkling with tension and false gaiety. The men didn’t look any happier. Yet this was one of the New York parties they would all sell their souls to get invited to, and if they were left out they considered it a major tragedy. Mad Daddy was looking at Silky and the Satins with respect. At least he seemed, at last, to be having a good time.
When the girls began to sing Gerry glanced at Dick. He was watching Silky with great pleasure, both for her performance and for her, that she was so good. But there was nothing really personal about it. Then Gerry stopped looking at him because whenever Silky sang it gave her such an emotional experience that she didn’t really care what else was going on. For Gerry, at least, whatever Silky sang became very personal. That girl is going to be a star, Gerry thought. Now she was sure of it.