She was surprised, “Don’t you like it?”
“Utter trash,” he said. “But it’s what Barbara’s fans want.”
Nita was shocked by his attitude. “Doesn’t your wife have the privilege of choosing her own starring vehicles?”
He shook his head. “Lew Meyers makes all the decisions here. He’s a business wizard but he has no taste at all!”
Nita was to hear this over and over again at the studio. Yet everyone gave in to Meyers because he had the touch of gold and none of them wanted to risk offending him. Occasionally he came onto the set and sourly watched the shooting. He generally left after a short stay, having given Mirnoff some suggestions.
Once again Nita met Dr. Phillip Watters, this time in the café reserved for stars and executives at Master Films. He sat with her and congratulated her on her move up in the world.
She asked, “What about you?”
“It’s an interesting experience,” he said. “But I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life on the lot.”
“What would you like to do?”
“Specialize.”
“In what?”
“Treatment of diabetics,” he said. “If I can manage it I’m going to New York City and open my own clinic there. I have a number of theories about the disease. My mother had a bad case.”
“It sounds worthwhile,” she agreed. “Quite a change from playing nursemaid to movie stars.”
He grimaced. “Too many of them are only interested in prescriptions for drugs.”
Nita thought it was a good time to ask, “Is there as much drug abuse in Hollywood as gossip has it?”
“It could be even worse,” he frowned. “Wallace Reid collapsed midway through the production of ‘Mr. Nillings Spends His Dime’ and had to be replaced by Walter Hiers. He’s in a sanitarium right now being treated for drug addiction.”
“I was told there was nothing to the story of his being addicted,” she said, remembering Thelma’s indignation.
“I’ll stake my medical reputation, such as it is, on the truth of it,” Phillip said. “And he’s not the only one. There’ll be more casualties before long.”
Nita and Phillip saw each other nearly every lunch time after this, which led to evening engagements. Phillip had become popular in the community and was invited to many private parties. On one particular night they had drinks with Richard Dix and his wife, went on to dinner with Lew Meyers and some of the great man’s relatives, and ended the eveing at a dancing party at the Trocadero with Richard Barthelmess and a host of his friends.
Nita rarely saw Thelma. But one afternoon as she drove up from work she saw the blonde girl enter her bungalow. She went over and pressed the bell and Thelma answered. Nita was at once surprised to see that she had been crying and that she looked thinner and more fragile than when they’d met last time.
“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Nita said.
Thelma dabbed a hanky to her eyes. “Sorry. You caught me at a bad moment. Do come in.” She was wearing a blue cloche hat and matching suit.
“I’ve been busy,” Nita told Thelma as she seated herself in an easy chair. “We’re just finishing the new Barbara Lamont film.”
“I heard you were over at Master,” Thelma said, standing and staring at her. “You look well. How do you like it?”
“I feel I’m getting somewhere at last.”
“Master Films is a fairly good outfit,” Thelma said rather grudgingly.
“What are you doing?” Nita asked.
Thelma sighed and sat down. “I’m going to New York. I’ve an offer to do a part in a new play there. I’ve had enough of Hollywood for awhile.”
“When are you going?” Nita asked in surprise.
“Tomorrow,” the blonde said. “I’m settling with Mrs. Denny and taking the train in the morning.”
“But why?”
“I’m tired of this town,” Thelma said and took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.
“You look weary,” Nita said, alarmed by her loss of weight. “Have you had problems?”
“I’ve had plenty,” the other girl said, puffing on the cigarette.
Nita ventured, “I’ve heard that Wallace Reid had to give up his latest film and he’s in hospital.”
Thelma froze. “They’re saying that now, are they?”
“Isn’t it true? They say he’s badly addicted to drugs.”
“Wally’s ill,” Thelma said. “Very ill. He many not live.”
“Have you seen him?”
The girl shook her head grimly. “They won’t let me near him. None of his old friends can see him.”
“That’s too bad,” Nita said.
“What about you?” Thelma asked. “How’s your love life?”
She smiled. “I have none. I go out with Dr. Watters occasionally. He’s the studio doctor at Master.”
“I know him,” Thelma said. “My friends don’t like him. He’s very bigoted and arrogant. Thinks a lot of himself.”
“I’ve never noticed that in him,” said Nita.
Thelma smiled wryly. “You’re fond of him. Makes a difference how you see him. What about Billy Bowers?”
“I see him now and then.”
“Not too often?”
“No. Not all that often.”
“He’ll be the next one in hospital,” was Thelma’s warning. “They say his drinking is worse than ever.”
“He seems to want to destroy himself,” Nita said sadly.
“Don’t we all?” was Thelma’s enigmatic reply.
That was the last Nita saw of the blonde girl. The cottage was rented to a middle-aged couple who’d deserted a tend show in the Middle West to try and find a niche in Hollywood. They were both older than Nita and so she did not make friends with them. She was too busy preparing for a new film at Master and having an exciting social life.
At a party given by the Francis X. Bushmans she told Phillip she was going to spend the weekend with Barbara and her husband.
Phillip and she were standing alone on the patio. The young doctor said, “You’re going to spend the weekend with Barbara and Eric? How did you get to be so friendly with those two?”
“I worked with them in ‘Desire’,” she said. “And they were both very kind to me.”
“I’ll bet,” he said quietly.
She stared at him. “Why do you say that?”
“Nothing,” he said. Then hesitating a moment, he went on, “I think you should know that he and Barbara are not the ideal happily married couple they seem.”
Puzzled, Nita said, “They seem happy enough.”
“They may be genuine in their liking for you,” he said. “But be on your guard. Don’t be surprised at anything.”
She said, “Are you suggesting that her husband might make a play for me?”
“That would be surprising, indeed,” Phillip told her dryly. “Let us see what happens.”
“I’ve been looking forward to it,” she said. “I’m told their beach home is lovely. You can walk from the bedrooms out onto the sand, and into the ocean if you like. In addition there’s a huge pool.”
“It has also been the scene of some wild parties,” he warned her. “Did anyone tell you that before?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“I don’t think they expect any company this weekend,” she said. “Just me.”
“Perhaps I’m doing them an injustice,” Phillip said. “This might be a pleasant experience.”
“I certainly hope so,” she said. “Though you haven’t helped any.”
He laughed and said, “Maybe it’s because I’d rather you spent the weekend with me. I’m becoming terribly possessive of you.”
“Phillip!”
“I mean it,” he said, taking her in his arms. “I don’t like seeing an innocent like you running about loose in this jungle.”
She smiled up at him. “You can’t be serious!”
“When it comes to y
ou, I’m most serious,” he said. “The trouble is, you have your eyes fixed on stardom.”
“And you want your diabetic clinic in the East.”
“Guilty,” he agreed. “But what would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
“Would that change anything?”
“I’d leave Hollywood tomorrow and take you with me. Far away from this crazy place!”
She laughed. “That’s why I won’t marry you. In spite of everything, I intend to make it here. I’ve gone through too much to give up now.”
His arms still around her, he said, “May I warn you that you might have to go through much more before you get what you want?”
“Then I will,” she said.
“Why have I let myself fall in love with you?” he wanted to know.
“I’m just a stand-in until the right girl comes along,” she teased.
His answer was to silence her with kisses. She was still in his arms when someone came out onto the patio to join them. The young doctor released her and they both turned to see their smiling host, the romantic leading man, Francis X. Bushman.
The big, blond man’s eyes held a twinkle as he said, “I never indulge in moments like that unless it’s before a camera and I’m being paid!”
Chapter Seven
Barbara and Eric’s beach house of exceeded Nita’s expectations. Its ideal location on white sands with the ocean only steps away was awe-inspiring. The various bedrooms including Nita’s were located on the side of the house facing the beach. Each bedroom had its own bath and balcony. Steps led from the balconies to the perfect beach. All that was required for an ideal weekend was good weather and it also was just right. Warm air and azure blue skies with plenty of sunshine blessed this special holiday excursion.
When Nita arrived on Friday evening Barbara and Eric hosted her to a candlelit dinner. She was amazed at their interest in her and decided they were two of Hollywood’s nicest people.
At the table, she said, “How can I thank you for being so kind to me?”
The exotic Barbara, at her best in a low-cut yellow gown, reached over and patter her hand. “By merely being your sweet self,” she said.
Eric Gray, handsome in white dinner jacket and black tie, smiled at her and said, “It’s not easy for people like us to make new friends. We have to be wary of being wooed for our position. And too often people try to use us in one way or another.”
Barbara daintily touched her napkin to her full lips and agreed, “Eric is so right. We must be extremely discreet.”
After dinner they sat in the living room with its fine view of the ocean and its array of fine paintings on beige walls. Only after an hour or so did Nita notice that the elegant Eric was drinking a good deal. Occasionally his voice would slur and he would sit for long periods saying nothing and smiling vacantly.
Around nine o’clock a visitor arrived, a young leading man who Nita had seen in several Eric Gray pictures. He was English, and had a rather feminine manner and a girlish style of good looks. The most masculine thing about him was his small moustache, which Nita felt had been grown in an attempt to minimize his female qualities.
Eric Gray seemed delighted to see the young man and greeted him warmly. With an arm around his shoulder, he brought him over to her and said, “Nita Nolan, I want you to meet Richard Wright, my closest friend!”
Wright smiled at her and said, “Delighted to meet you, Nita. Eric has spoken to me about you.”
Barbara Lamont did not seem to be particularly pleased with the arrival of her husband’s friend. She puffed on her cigarette in its long holder and asked him, “Aren’t you supposed to be working on location in Mexico?”
Richard Wright smirked over his martini. “Murnau gave us the weekend off. He’s having a big party at his place.”
Eric explained, “F.W.Murnau is the director of Richard’s film.”
Barbara gave her husband a cold look and said, “Everyone in Hollywood knows about Murnau.”
Eric took it in good nature. “I’m sure Nita doesn’t. Do you Nita?”
She smiled. “I’m fresh from the two-reel lot. I know little about the big names.”
“You see!” Eric declared triumphantly. And to her he explained, “Murnau is a very talented foreign director.”
Richard Wright waved a slim hand gracefully declaring, “He’s a complete and utter genius.”
Barbara showed increasing annoyance. “I do not intend to spend the evening listening to the virtues of Murnau.”
“Sorry,” Eric apologized. He turned to his friend and said, “It’s a lovely night. What do you say we take a walk on the beach, Richard?”
“Fascinating idea,” his friend said to Nita and Barbara, he added, “Do excuse us. We’ll join you later.”
When the two men left the room Barbara made herself another drink and told Nita, “I’m sorry, but I can’t bear Richard or any of his crowd.”
“Oh?”
Barbara frowned. “He’s a bad influence on my husband.”
“They seem so friendly. And he’s in all Eric’s films,” Nita said.
“Eric sees to that,” the exotic black-haired beauty said with disgust. “I’m certain he does it to annoy me!”
“But you have such a happy marriage!”
Barbara lifted her eyebrows. “You think so?”
“The fan magazines are always extolling you as the ideal married couple.”
“You surely don’t read that rot!”
Nita blushed. “I used to when I was younger. I think most young girls read some of that sort of thing.”
Barbara sipped her drink. “There are some truths you must soon learn about Hollywood, my dear. You must be friendly with the people who can help you. I plan to have you in every film I make from now on. The rushes show you are excellent in ‘Desire’.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say so,” Nita said. “I’ve been really worried.”
“Don’t worry any more. As long as I have any say you’ll have work at Master Films.”
“You’re too kind.”
“If Eric can have his favorites in his films so can I,” Barbara said.
“I must find out more about the director they were discussing, F.W.Murnau,” said Nita.
Barbara grimaced. “I wouldn’t give him a second thought. I consider him an undesirable person.”
“Why?” Nita asked innocently.
Barbara turned away from her. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
They talked for a little longer. Then Barbara went over to the big windows overlooking the beach and pulled back one of the drapes which had been drawn closed when darkness came. The beach was floodlit to keep burlars from approaching the house by that way.
Staring out the window into the darkness broken only by the beams of the floodlights, Barbara said, “Jesse Lasky has the place next door.”
“He’s the producer, isn’t he?” Nita said.
“The best of the group here in Hollywood,” Barbara answered. Then all at once she froze and gasped as she went on staring outside.
Nita saw her stunned reaction to whatever was happening and went to her. “What is it?”
“Look!” Barbara said in a taut voice.
It took Nita a moment to see what had so disturbed her hostess. Just to one side of the floodlight’s glow two figures stood in the bushes. Two male figures, embracing and kissing.
“Why, it’s — ” she turned to Barbara in dismay and didn’t finish.
“It’s my husband and Richard making love,” Barbara said bitterly. “We won’t see them again tonight!”
Nita stared at her incredulously “What …?”
“They’ll go off to one of their private places. Perhaps to Richard’s apartment. He has one near here. Or maybe to the orgy at Murnau’s. He’s having another one of them tonight, so Richard said.”
The shocking truth was now dawning on Nita. She said, “Richard Wright is a homosexual — and your husband?”
“Is ‘
double-gaited,’ if you want to be especially kind to him. The truth is, his homosexual nature takes over every time he has an opportunity.”
“How awful for you!” Nita gasped.
Barbara put out her cigarette in a nearby tray. “I’ve grown used to it. I go my way and he goes his.”
“He’ll spend the night with that man?”
“Yes.”
“And when he returns?”
“He’ll tell some preposterous story for your benefit, make it seem an innocent case of drinking too much and falling asleep on a friend’s couch. Eric is an old hand at explaining his pecadillos.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nita said.
Barbara smiled at her sadly and took Nita’s hands in hers. Her soulful eyes studied her closely and she said, “Now you know why I sought you out. I’m desperately lonely and in need of companionship.”
“It’s a hateful position for you,” Nita said. “Why don’t you divorce him?”
“It would ruin both our careers,” the lovely, pale woman said. “Neither of us can afford that just now. Later, when it is more convenient, we’ll surely separate.”
“In the meantime you’re living a sham existence! How unhappy you must be!”
Barbara bent close to her so that her perfume filled Nita’s nostrils and kissed her gently on the cheek. “It helps me having you here, dear Nita. I need feminine friendship.”
Nita said, “There are many fine men. You should pay Eric back by seeking out some good man to keep you company!”
Barbara sighed and moved away. She said, “I have suffered too much at the hands of men. Eric is only the latest sad example of the misery I’ve known.”
“Really?” Nita said. “I was married, you know.”
“And?” her hostess said.
Nita sighed. “He was killed in an accident. I was deeply in love with him at first. But he drank a lot. I almost left him but towards the end he seemed to be straightening out. I think he did truly love me.”
“There’s always some flaw,” Barbara said despondently. “Men are invariably inconsiderate of women in one way or another.”
“I think it’s just that they don’t understand,” Nita suggested.
Barbara touched a hand to her temple. “I think I’ll go to bed if you don’t mind. And you should also. You’re here for a rest. The camera seeks out every wrinkle. Rest is all important.”
Vintage Love Page 223