Hollywood Husbands

by Jackie Collins

  ‘In the booth, I guess,’ she replied.

  ‘Goddammit!’

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘Get a message to Aretha and tell her to call Jade Johnson. Have her say I can’t make it, I’m going to be held up at the studio, and I’ll contact her later. I want that taken care of at once.’

  ‘Yes sir!’

  * * *

  Jade changed into jeans and a sweater. Then she changed the sweater three times. Then she changed the jeans for tracksuit pants, hated the way they bagged, and changed back into jeans.

  First, she had scrubbed off her studio makeup, applying a much more subtle look, and had washed her hair, leaving it to dry naturally – framing her face with a wild tumble of shaggy curls.

  High on pure energy, she went to work in the kitchen, marinating the veal in lemon, slicing potatoes, chopping parsley, stringing mange-tout.

  Next she soaked strawberries in Grand Marnier, and whipped sour cream with brown sugar.

  Not bothering to set the table, she laid place-mats on the coffee table in front of the television, just in case he felt like watching Hill Street Blues. And if he didn’t, she put Sade on the stereo.

  After opening a bottle of cold white wine, she switched on the television, just in time for the beginning of his show. Face to Face with Python.

  Happily she settled down to watch.

  * * *

  The Senator was affable and slippery, a true politician who answered all questions with bland good nature, at the same time getting in every point he wished to make.

  Jack found him an interesting study. How could one man talk such a crock, and still manage to come across as disarmingly nice? Senator Richmond succeeded. And for once Jack let him get away with it – his mind elsewhere.

  ‘That was one prize of a sluggish hour!’ a frustrated Aldrich complained after the event. ‘You gave him the chair. For Christ’s sake, Jack, it was the Peter Richmond show.’

  ‘Where’s Aretha?’ Jack asked tightly, ignoring the criticism.

  ‘I said—’

  ‘I heard what you said. I’m not in the mood to discuss it.’

  He found Aretha in the office. When she saw him coming she gestured helplessly. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry. What can I tell you?’

  ‘You can tell me what the fuck happened.’

  ‘I did telephone Danielle earlier. She wasn’t in, so I spoke to some foreign person who seemed to understand the message I left.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That you had to cancel dinner. I even spelled your name, just to make sure.’

  Shaking his head he paced around the office. ‘Now not only do I have to take her to dinner, I’m stuck with the goddamn Senator too. You’re incompetent, you know that?’ He snatched a cigarette from her desk. ‘What did Jade say?’

  ‘Uh… Jade,’ she said blankly.

  ‘Don’t tell me you screwed that up, too?’

  Aretha looked vague. ‘Was I supposed to do something?’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Now he was really angry. ‘Haven’t you phoned her yet?’

  Frowning, she said, ‘Stop screaming at me please.’

  Taking a deep breath he said patiently, ‘I told Genie to pass you a message in the control booth to call Jade and tell her I can’t make it tonight. Did you do that?’

  ‘Oh yeah, yeah.’

  ‘How did she sound?’

  ‘Calm.’

  He gave a resigned sigh. ‘Book me a table for three at Chasen’s.’

  ‘You got it.’

  As soon as he walked out of the room she grabbed her phone book. Genie had passed on no such message, and Aretha knew that as soon as Jack heard the news he would fire the girl. Genie was new and enthusiastic, and Aretha didn’t want to see that happen.

  Covering up for her, she made the call. It was nearly nine-thirty.

  * * *

  Putting down the phone, Jade couldn’t help feeling a wave of disappointment. Why hadn’t he called himself? Why had he waited until nearly nine-thirty to have someone phone and cancel for him?

  ‘Jack has to have dinner with the Senator,’ his assistant had explained.

  If that was so, why hadn’t he asked her to accompany them? Maybe she was expecting too much. After all, she knew her own feelings, but to Jack Python perhaps she was just another one-night stand.

  Anger flushed her face. He had a reputation, Shane had warned her – why hadn’t she listened? The roses were probably standard practice. And she had acted like a gullible idiot.

  Well, there was no way she was going to sit around and cry. Corey had called yesterday and invited her to a private party for Petrii, the New York dress designer.

  Antonio had also left a message on her machine insisting she be there. And that’s exactly what she intended to do.

  * * *

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the very married Senator had eyes for the provocative French actress. With a little creative match-making, Jack decided he could be out of Chasen’s in an hour, and if Jade still wanted to see him…

  He thought about her as Danielle droned on in her monotonous smoky voice, and the Senator’s eyes feasted hungrily on her cleavage. There was something wonderfully different about Jade. Beautiful and exciting as she was, those attributes were not the main attraction. She was a free spirit. He’d sensed it the first time he saw her, and now that they’d embarked on a relationship he wanted to get to know her properly. In fact, he couldn’t wait…

  Glancing impatiently at his watch, he decided he could slide off and phone her without being missed. ‘Excuse me,’ he said politely.

  As if they’d notice.

  * * *

  The doorman summoned a cab, and she was on her way, having quickly changed into a short black leather dress worn with masses of silver jewellery.

  ‘Chasen’s,’ she told the Iranian driver, who took off as if he was being pursued by half the L.A.P.D.

  In the cab she lit a cigarette, had one drag, then stubbed it out. Opening up her purse she took out her compact and carefully checked her makeup. She noted – with a buzz of annoyance – that she had that look about her. The glow of really great love-making. Ah… if only someone could bottle it, they’d make the fortune of all time.

  God damn Jack Python. Why had he walked into her life?

  The cab driver began to talk, while executing his death-defying dash along Wilshire. ‘Where you from, lady?’

  ‘New York,’ she muttered, not wishing to engage one second of his concentration.

  ‘I thought so. You look New York. I got two brothers live there. One – he marry this beautiful girl. The other, he…’

  She stopped listening, wishing that she’d taken her car instead of subjecting herself to the driver’s family history.

  * * *

  There was no answer in Jade’s apartment. Her machine wasn’t on, so he couldn’t even leave a message.

  She’s probably gone out, he thought. After all, he couldn’t expect her to just sit around waiting for his call. Now, if he could only get rid of the Senator and Danielle at a reasonable hour, he might drop by her apartment and wait for her.

  The thought cheered him. He wasn’t prepared to be patient.

  As soon as he returned to the table, Senator Richmond jumped up. ‘I have an early appointment tomorrow morning,’ he said, by way of explanation.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Seven-thirty.’

  Danielle extended her hand. ‘Au revoir, Senator.’

  ‘Goodnight, Miss… uh…Vadeeme. It was a real pleasure.’

  ‘My pleeeasurrre, Senator.’

  Jack looked from one to the other. What was going on here? He had thought they were all set.

  The Senator made a fast exit, leaving him stuck with Danielle.

  Snaking her hand along the back of his neck she moved closer. ‘He want me to sleep with heem,’ she whispered huskily. ‘I promise to veesit hees hotel later.’ With a mysterious smile she added, �
��What I do, Jacques?’

  Without a doubt she expected him to tell her no way. And normally he would have done so, but now things were different, and all he desired was to get rid of her.

  ‘Hey… Danielle,’ he said sensibly. ‘A promise is a promise.’

  Disbelief crossed her face. Danielle Vadeeme was used to men getting down on their knees. ‘You sonofabeetch!’ she exclaimed in surprise.

  ‘I may be a sonofabitch, but I’m a truthful one,’ he said, lightening his words with a killer smile.

  Staring at him knowingly she said, ‘What happen, Jacques? You fall for someone?’

  Nodding, he was almost embarrassed to admit such a weakness.

  With a Gallic shrug she said, ‘Then why you weeth me, chéri?

  ‘Circumstances.’

  ‘Ah, Jacques. You sooo Américain.’ And she patted him on the hand matter-of-factly. ‘We go. I veesit the Senator. And you…’ Another shrug.

  Miss Vadeeme was a very understanding lady.

  * * *

  Naturally the cab driver did not have change for the fifty Jade offered him. It just wasn’t her night.

  ‘I’ll get it broken,’ she said irritably, walking into Chasen’s and stopping at the front desk for change.

  The driver followed, obviously thinking she was going to vanish out the back. He was still babbling on about thieves and robbers and the dangers of carrying more than twenty dollars in change.

  She broke the fifty and gave him his money, whereupon he left with a grunt.

  Turning to go in, she was stopped by a hand on her arm. ‘Jade?’ said an unfamiliar voice.

  She turned and looked into the eyes of a complete stranger.

  Seeing she didn’t recognize him, he introduced himself. ‘Hi, I’m Penn Sullivan. We met with Beverly D’Amo a few months ago at Morton’s. I was with Frances Cavendish – the casting agent. It was a business dinner.’

  Looking faintly amused she said, ‘It was?’ Then she remembered him. Beverly had said he was an actor. ‘I hope it did you some good,’ she added, also remembering the terse exchange between him and the elderly casting woman in the parking lot.

  Brushing his hand through a wiry mass of hair he said, ‘I’m working. It beats waiting tables – which I did for three years in this town.’

  He couldn’t be more than early-twenties, and he was undeniably attractive.

  ‘I’m going to the Petrii party. Are you having dinner here?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m here for the Petrii party too,’ she said.

  ‘Alone?’ he asked, definitely coming on.

  * * *

  Jack helped Danielle from the table. As Howard would put it – the old French broad had come up trumps. Maybe as a favour he would introduce her to Howard, get him to put her in one of his films. In France she was a huge star, but in America she had yet to break through in a meaningful way. After all, she was behaving like a lady, and he admired her style.

  Putting a friendly arm around her shoulders, he began to walk her towards the entrance.

  * * *

  Just as Jade was about to repel Penn Sullivan’s very obvious come-on, Jack and Danielle strolled into the vestibule of the restaurant. They seemed entranced with each other. His arm was around the French actress’s bare shoulders, and she was gazing up at him lovingly. As they appeared, she murmured, ‘Merci, chéri,’ and stood on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek.

  Jade was momentarily stunned. What a bastard! She could hardly believe her own eyes!

  Hardly taking a beat, she recovered her composure and turned to Penn. ‘Let’s go party,’ she said boldly, attaching herself to his arm.

  ‘Great!’ he replied, happily surprised:

  At which point Jack spotted her. ‘Hey—’ he began. ‘What are you doing here? I was just—’

  She smiled, but her eyes were cold steel. ‘Jack Python,’ she said, keeping her tone light. ‘How nice to see you. Have you met my good friend Penn Sullivan?’

  He had no desire to meet the handsome young actor. And what the fuck was she doing with him anyway?

  Christ! It didn’t take Jade Johnson long to get over a broken date – and he had thought she was different.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  It was an extraordinarily balmy night. Howard could feel the sweat forming under his hairpiece before he even left the hotel. He was trying out a new glue and it worked really well, only perspiration wrecked it, and he couldn’t afford any mishaps on this night of nights.

  After visiting Whitney, he had taken a trip to the location, where Mannon and Clarissa were sequestered in her motor home. It took ten minutes of knocking loudly on the door before it was opened.

  Wonderful! Howard thought. Especially during the times they might be needed on the set immediately.

  ‘We call them twenty minutes early,’ Dirk had confided. ‘That way we get them there on time.’

  Mannon emerged eventually, rumpled and smiling. ‘Howard! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Trying to see that we get a film made,’ Howard said grimly. ‘Remember? That’s why we’re all here.’

  Grinning, Mannon said, ‘Am I giving a performance or what?’

  ‘Yup,’ Howard agreed. ‘The dailies are something.’

  ‘Something? Is that all you have to say? Clarissa thinks if we keep up this energy, and the studio does its job when it comes to nomination time – well, she reckons we’re both on for the ride.’

  ‘Nobody would like that better than me. I’d also like to see Whitney happy.’

  The sound of her name wiped the smile from Mannon’s face. ‘I hate to be the one to say this – but that lady is strictly amateur night. She shouldn’t be in this film. We need a real actress in the role.’

  From ‘love of his life’ she had gone to ‘that lady’. Clarissa must have some heavy influence.

  ‘The thing is,’ Howard said patiently, ‘she is in the film. We have a contract. And it would be nice if she got a little support.’

  ‘Fire her,’ Mannon said callously. ‘I don’t care.’

  Howard – who never gave much thought to anyone’s morals, including his own – was shocked. ‘This is Whitney we’re talkin’ about.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Well, goddammit, two months ago you would’ve kissed my ass to get her back. Now you want her thrown off the picture?’

  ‘Listen, Howard,’ Mannon lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. ‘Clarissa knows what she’s talking about, and she says Whitney is dragging the movie down. Dirk agrees. And the crew, everyone.’

  ‘So you’d like me to fire her?’ Howard asked tightly.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Fuck you. Your contract gives you plenty of power, but you and Clarissa are not runnin’ the friggin’ studio – an’ until you are, I decide who gets the axe. And I still have some loyalty to old friends.’

  Clarissa appeared at the door beside Mannon. ‘Howard,’ she greeted him curtly.

  ‘Clarissa,’ he replied, just as curt.

  ‘We only want what’s good for the film.’

  He would never understand her success. What was it that took place between her and a camera?

  ‘I know that,’ he said. ‘And I want you to know this. Whitney stays. I’m flying in a special acting coach for her. She’ll improve. She’ll be okay.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Clarissa said stiffly.

  It occurred to Howard that neither one of them was about to invite him inside. Actors! Actresses! Stars! Phoney, insecure assholes who woke up one morning and got lucky. What made them think they were all so special?

  ‘You’re both doing a sensational job,’ he said, with insincere friendliness. ‘Keep it up, an’ try to go easy on the kid.’

  ‘Hardly a kid,’ murmured Clarissa bitchily.

  ‘Yeah… well…’ He stared at his good friend Mannon, and went for the jugular. ‘Poppy’s seen Melanie a few times. She says she looks healthy enough for someone who’s about to d
rop a baby any second. Do you want me to relay a message?’

  Mannon provided a quick flash of guilt. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I speak to her all the time.’

  Howard did not approve of the way Mannon was treating his pregnant wife. Shrugging, he said, ‘Gotta go kick ass. See ya.’

  What he actually had to do was arrange for an acting coach to be flown in at once. And then break the news to Whitney.

  She took it better than he expected, glad of the support.

  The only acting coach the studio had been able to arrange at such short notice was Joy Byron, an eccentric old Englishwoman who presided over Joy Byron’s Method Acting School in Hollywood. Her main claim to fame was that she had discovered Buddy Hudson – currently the hot new star. Joy was thrilled to be asked, and arrived on the next plane.

  Now Howard had to take them both to dinner, plus Whitney’s secretary – who apparently accompanied her everywhere on location. And her publicist, Norman Gooseberger, who had also flown in that day.

  Howard wasn’t worried about dinner. Getting through that would be a breeze. It was after he kept on thinking about. Finally, he and Whitney would be alone together. She, so beautiful and vibrant. He, so… what?

  He was short.

  Nearly bald.

  He had a paunch.

  And more pubic hair than she had probably ever seen in her entire life.

  He snorted too much cocaine before leaving the hotel, and gulped a couple of Valium. What a combination! The coke to bring him up, and the Valium to calm him down.

  Biting his nails, he allowed a limo to deliver him to his fate.

  * * *

  Howard’s snide comments about ‘loyalty’ and ‘old friends’ really pissed Mannon off. Whitney was an actress. She had a job to do, and if she couldn’t deliver, then she should be out. Clarissa had explained that to him. In fact, Clarissa had explained a lot of things to him – especially about acting, and that’s why he was giving such a great performance.

  For over fifteen years he had played movie star. Now, with Clarissa’s help, maybe he’d get a little critical acceptance as a damn good actor. And why should he feel guilty about trying to bump Whitney from the film when she deserved it? Screw Howard and his smartass remarks.