“We enjoyed seeing you.”
“Can you give me a lift?” Darling Girl asked. “I’m going to Ninetieth and York. It’s on your way.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I’ll go down to the car with you,” Sam said. He went to the foyer closet for our coats.
“So long, Uncle Steve,” Junior smiled. We shook hands. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone was near. “Myriam’s been in love with you ever since she was a kid,” he whispered. “That’s why she was so shook up when she saw you.”
I looked at him with relief. At least there were some things he didn’t know. “So long, Junior.”
We went out into the elevator. Sam looked at me. “What are we going to do about those pictures?”
Darling Girl was watching us with peculiar concentration. I didn’t answer.
The elevator door opened. “You go on to the car,” Sam said to her. “I want to talk to Steve for a minute.”
She kissed his cheek and ran out. I saw the chauffeur hold the door for her. When it closed Sam turned to me.
“That girl’s a problem. She’s running with all the bums in New York. I don’t dare tell her mother.”
“She’s young yet.”
“I hope she finds some nice boy and settles down,” he said.
“She will. Give her time.”
The words seemed to come reluctantly to his lips. “We’ve always been friends. I’ll lay it right on the line for you. If we don’t make a deal and make it quick, I’m bust.”
I saw Darling Girl looking back through the window of the car at us. I turned to him. “How much do you need?”
“Four million dollars.”
“What about Dave Diamond?”
“I can’t go to him. I’m into him for ten million now and he’s hollering.” He took a deep breath. “I had a run of bad luck, but I got a couple of pictures almost finished that I think will be winners.”
That was film talk. Nobody ever made a picture that wasn’t going to be a big winner. I looked out at Darling Girl. She was still watching us.
“What have you got that isn’t in hock?”
“Nothing.” He thought for a moment. “Except the stock in my company.”
“What can you get for that?”
“Right now?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “Not a penny. But if I had the room to operate with the four million it would be worth twenty-five million in a year.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take twenty-five percent for four million dollars and give you an option to buy it back within one year for the same money or book value, whichever is higher.”
“You mean Sinclair will buy twenty-five percent of my company?”
“No. Sinclair won’t,” I said. “I will.”
He took my hand and gripped it hard. For the first time since I knew him, he was speechless.
“Tell your lawyer to call me at the studio tomorrow,” I said and went out to the car.
It was a hell of a price to pay for fucking his daughter.
She moved to the far end of the seat as I got into the car. “Ninetieth and York,” I said. “Then American Airlines at Kennedy.”
“No,” she said. “That was just an excuse to get out of there. I’ll go to the airport with you.”
“What for?”
“I want to talk to you.”
I was silent.
“You could at least listen,” she said.
“Skip York Avenue,” I said to the chauffeur. “We’ll go right to the airport.”
She pressed the button near her and the glass partition went up, blocking the chauffeur from us. I took a cigarette and lit it. She looked at me. I held the pack toward her.
She dragged on the cigarette and leaned back in the seat. She looked at the chauffeur’s head, not at me. “I love you,” she said.
The car went two blocks.
“You don’t believe that, do you?” She still wasn’t looking at me.
I didn’t answer.
“I’m not a child,” she said. “I’m not crazy. I got hung up on you when I was a little girl. It’s always been like that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were when you came in that night?”
“At first it was a big joke,” she said. “Then I was afraid. Afraid you’d be angry and stop seeing me.”
Suddenly I was tired. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “It doesn’t matter now,” I said wearily. “It’s over.”
I heard her move on the seat and opened my eyes. “Because of last night?”
“No,” I said.
“Then why?”
“Because I’m too old to start teaching kindergarten to emotionally disturbed children.”
“Is that what you think I am?”
“What do you think you are?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she kept looking at me. “Like everyone else,” she said. “A little mixed up, a little frightened. Trying to grab it all in before the bomb. What makes you think I’m so different from every other girl you’ve been balling?”
“Maybe that’s just it,” I said bluntly. “You’re no different.”
“Oh!” She gasped as if I had physically hit her. She closed her eyes. We didn’t speak until the car came off the Van Wyck Expressway into the airport. He turned onto the ramp at the terminal.
“Steve,” she said.
I looked at her.
“Take me with you,” she asked.
“No.”
She seemed to shrink at the coldness in my tone. Her voice grew very small and very tight. “Don’t close me out, Steve. I’ve nowhere else to go.”
The car stopped and I got out. I leaned back into the car. “Myriam,” I said. “Would you like to do yourself a favor?”
She just looked at me with wide dark eyes.
“Do what your father wants. Find yourself a nice boy and settle down.” I started to close the door.
She put her hand on the door and held it open. “Steve. Please.”
“Turn it off, Myriam. You’re a big girl now,” I said wearily. “Can’t you see it just won’t work?”
I pushed the door shut and walked into the terminal without looking back.
CHAPTER NINE
My first stop in the morning was Dave Diamond’s office on the second floor of the California Consolidated Bank’s head office on Wilshire Boulevard. He came out from behind the walnut executive desk that made him look half his size and held out his hand. “This is a surprise.”
I took his hand. Over in the corner of the room a small television set was running the latest market figures. It was one of the services of our UHF station. It was amazing how big an audience it pulled. Everybody was interested in money.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, as his secretary put a cup of black coffee in front of me.
“Two things,” I said. “First, I want you to give me a complete rundown on Joe Regan and Symbolic Records.”
“You’ll have that in ten minutes,” he said. “We keep a current file on all companies we do business with.” He spoke a few words into the telephone and turned back to me. “What’s the second?”
“I want to borrow four million dollars.”
“Personally?” he asked.
“Personally.”
“Money’s very tight,” he said.
“I know. That’s why I’m here. This is where you come when it’s hard to get.”
He laughed. “You guys must think I print it.”
“Don’t you?”
He laughed again and became serious. “What’s your collateral?”
“Sinclair stock,” I said.
“Good collateral, but do you have enough stock to cover the loan? We’re allowed to lend seventy-five percent of the market value.”
“I have enough.”
“Okay,” he said. “When do you want the money?”
“As soon as I can get it.”
“I’ll put it in the works.” He picked up the telephone aga
in and spoke a few minutes to his loan department. “See how easy it is? Just visit your friendly neighborhood banker.”
I smiled.
“If it’s not a secret,” he asked delicately, “what do you want the money for?”
“I’m buying twenty-five percent of Samarkand.”
He stared at me incredulously. “Sam Benjamin’s company?”
I nodded.
“I don’t believe it. You gotta be too smart for that. Do you know how much he owes us that he can’t pay back?
I had nothing to say.
“Eight million dollars!” he said vehemently. “And I was the world’s prize shmuck to give it to him!”
I smiled. Sam even had to exaggerate his disasters. “Well, now you don’t have to feel so bad. You’ve got company.”
“It may sound crazy to you,” he said. “Like I’m talking against myself. Your loan is good business for us, we charge the highest interest rates in town. Besides that, we’ll grab a million dollars of that money right off the top before he even sees it because that’s what’s due right now. So you see we can’t get hurt by it and still, I’m telling you just one thing—” He paused to catch his breath. “Don’t do it!”
His secretary came into the office and put some papers on his desk. “The report on Symbolic Records that you asked for, Mr. Diamond.”
He nodded and she left the office. He looked down at the report and then back at me. “Now if you wanted to but this company I would say it’s a smart thing. They’re doing good business and once you get rid of the shylocks and put in proper management you got a chance. But the other’s like throwing the money into the sewer.”
“I appreciate your honesty, Dave,” I said. “But I’m committed.”
“Nothing’s committed until the money is passed,” he said. He saw I wasn’t going to answer. “Okay. But I’m your friend. At least you can tell me why.”
“Let’s put it this way,” I said. “Everybody has to pay his dues. I’m paying mine.”
***
By the time I completed the arrangements at the bank, signed the papers, had the stock certificates brought up from the vault, it was almost twelve o’clock.
“Everything’s clear on this end,” Dave said. “I’ll credit Sam’s account as soon as you notify me.”
“I’ll call you from the studio.”
Joe Regan was waiting by the time I reached my office. “Give me ten minutes,” I said. “And we can go right over to the commissary.”
“Take your time, Steve,” he said.
I went into my office and placed a call to my attorney in New York and another call to Sam. The attorney’s call came through first.
“It’s a simple transaction, Paul.” Briefly I explained it to him.
“I understand,” he said.
“I’ll arrange for Sam and his attorney to go over to your office,” I said. “As soon as I hear from you that they have delivered the stock and signed the repurchase option, I’ll have the money transferred to his account.”
“It would be preferable if the money could be paid over at the time of the closing,” Paul said.
“All right. Notify me when you set the closing and I’ll have Dave Diamond at the bank on a conference hookup.”
“That’s better,” Paul said. “I’ll get back to you.”
Sam was on the line as soon as Paul got off. “The money is ready for you,” I said. “Have your attorney get in touch with Paul Gitlin. He’ll handle the closing for me.”
“Why Paul Gitlin?” Sam snorted. “I’ve done business with him before. He’s a monster.”
“For four million dollars you can afford to love him,” I said.
“Can I get the money today?” Sam asked.
“He says all you have to do is deliver the stock, sign the agreement, and you’ve got the money.”
“I love him already,” Sam said.
I put down the telephone and had my girl bring Joe Regan into the office. “How about a drink before we go over to lunch?” I asked. “There’s no hard liquor sold in the commissary.”
“Bourbon and water,” Joe said quickly.
I nodded to the girl and she went to the bar and fixed our drinks. She brought them to us and left the office.
“Cheers,” I said.
He nodded and we drank. “Ah, that helps,” he said. “I’m glad you called. I really couldn’t speak the other day. I had some people in the office and I had to put you on the box.”
“I guessed as much.”
“They’re beginning to squeeze,” he said. “They want to move in the way they did on that company back East.”
I let him talk.
“I was getting ready to turn it over to them. It’s getting so that I can’t sleep nights.” His glass was empty. “Can I have another?”
I got up and walked over to the bar. I refilled his glass and went back behind my desk.
He took a swallow of the drink. “I was going to give it to them and walk away from it. Can you imagine that? Fifteen years of my life and I’m ready to chuck it.”
“What does it take to get them out?”
“Just pay them what I owe them,” he said. “They don’t own any stock—yet. That was the next step. They offered to knock off half the loans for fifty percent of the company.”
“How much do you owe them?” I asked.
“About a million seven.”
“That’s not bad.”
“To you,” he said. “But not to me. As much money as we make, I can never seem to catch up.”
“Relax,” I said, putting down my empty glass. “Let’s put our heads together. We ought to be able to work something out.”
I started to get up and the phone rang. It was Paul on the line from New York. “I just heard from Benjamin,” he said. “They’ll be over at my office at five o’clock. If you set up the conference call for five thirty, everything should be in order. That’s two thirty your time.”
“Will do,” I said.
“Steve,” he said.
“Yes.”
“It’s none of my business, I know, but have you thought about this?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Speaking as an attorney,” he said, “I’m not familiar with your employment contract, but there could be a clause in it that prohibits you from doing something like this.”
“There isn’t.”
“There’s also a question of ethics,” he said. “After all, they are a company with whom your company does business. There could be a question of conflict of interest.”
“It can never come to that,” I said. “It’s actually nothing but a loan; I’m taking the stock merely as a form of security. That’s why the repurchase agreement.”
“Then why don’t you let me draw it up that way?” he asked. “It might not help much, but it will look a little better if anything does come up.”
“You’re the lawyer, you do it anyway you think right. Just have it ready for him today.”
“I will,” he said. “I feel better about it already.”
“So do I, Paul. Thank you.” I put down the phone and turned to Joe. “Come on, let’s go to lunch.”
“I could just as well sit here and drink,” he said.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “I’ll have something sent in.”
He was smashed by the time he left. But I had a hunch that it wasn’t the liquor as much as it was relief. He was going to get two and a half million dollars of Sinclair stock for his company and we were going to pay off the debt.
The conference call came through almost as soon as he had left. Sam was on the line as soon as the formalities were completed. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “Just make it work and you get your stock back.”
“I will. Everything will be all right now. It really will be a happy New Year.”
That was the first time I realized that it was New Year’s Eve.
***
It was too late to make any plans. Besides I wasn’t in much of a mood to hit any of the parties. I was tired and all I wanted was to go back to the hotel, take a hot bath, have some dinner, watch a little television, and go to bed. I made only one mistake. I never should have turned on the television set.
Television on New Year’s Eve is filled with nostalgia. I began to drink. At nine o’clock, I watched the lighted ball drop down the Times Building at midnight in New York while Guy Lombardo played; at ten o’clock I caught Woody Herman at midnight in Chicago. By that time I had killed almost a bottle of Scotch and I stumbled into bed.
I thought I would go right to sleep, but the whiskey was working on me. I was too high to drift off. I lay there half in and half out of the world while the sounds of the approaching midnight grew louder around the hotel.
It was five minutes to twelve when the front doorbell of the bungalow began to ring. I waited a few minutes, hoping whoever it was would realize their mistake and go away. They didn’t. The bell kept ringing.
Finally I got out of bed, slipped on my robe. I threw the door open angrily, ready to blast anyone who stood there.
She was there, looking up at me with wide, timid eyes. “I was—I was afraid I wouldn’t get here in time,” she said in a soft voice. “Happy New Year.”
I opened my arms and she came into them.
CHAPTER TEN
I rolled over in the bed and looked at her. She opened her eyes. “Good morning,” I said.
She smiled. “Happy 1965.”
I kissed her. “Happy 1965.” I picked up the phone and asked for room service. I looked back at her. “What would you like for breakfast?”
She made a face. “Just coffee.”
“I’m starved,” I said and ordered the works.
“You’re not going to be able to eat all that,” she said.
“Watch me,” I said. I rolled on top of her pressing her into the bed with my weight. Her arms went up around my neck and pulled my face down to her. Her mouth was morning sweet.
“What would you have done if I hadn’t come out?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Been lonely.”
She held my cheek close to her face while she whispered, “My cunt feels so good. So warm and loved.” She drew back and looked into my eyes. “I’m still full of you. You poured. Man, how you poured.”
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