Lovers and Gamblers (53 page)

They all got in the car. ‘Where to now?’ asked Al.

‘Drop me at the hotel,’ said Paul.

‘You’d better take me home first,’ suggested Dallas.

‘We haven’t finished our list,’ objected Al. He sneezed.

‘You’ve caught a cold,’ Paul accused. ‘You should get some sleep before tomorrow. All we need is for you to lose your voice.’

‘I can sleep all day.’

‘You’re taping the Johny Carson show in the afternoon.’

‘Anyway, I’m beat,’ interrupted Dallas. ‘Whacked out. So if you want me to come tomorrow…’

‘If I take you home now is that a promise?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘OK, we’ll drop Paul…’

‘We won’t drop Paul. You’re both at the Beverly Hills, aren’t you? So drop me first.’ She gave Luke the address. ‘I thought…’ began Al.

‘I know what you thought, and you thought wrong.’

He grinned. It was good to be in on the chase once more – gave the whole game a little excitement. The big E had been missing from his life for far too long.

They dropped Dallas at her house. ‘See you tomorrow,’ Al said.

‘Probably,’ she replied.

‘Don’t give me that – it’s a definitely.’

‘Well…’

‘Tomorrow,’ he said firmly.

‘If you say so…’ She walked in the house and they drove off.

Al felt marvellous. Paul was glum.

‘Put on one of my tapes,’ Al instructed Luke. ‘No – don’t. Put on the Womack tape we were playing before.’ He sang along with it. ‘Isn’t she great?’ he asked Paul. ‘She’s the kind of girl I could really like – you know, she’s different, kind of ballsy. She’s there. Know what I mean? She’s not just standing around waiting to get humped. Makes a nice change.’

For how long? Paul wanted to ask. None of them lasted more than five minutes. He only liked this one because she was giving him a hard time.

At the hotel the red light was flashing on Al’s phone indicating there were messages. A memo pushed under his door read, ‘Contact the front desk – urgent.’

Perhaps Dallas was calling him to tell him she had changed her mind.

He picked up the phone. ‘Al King here,’ he snapped. ‘What’s the message?’

‘One moment please, Mr. King, I’ll put you through to the front desk.’

There was a pause, then a man’s voice came on the line. ‘Mr. King. Sorry to bother you –but we have a young man here claiming to be your son. An Evan King. He has a passport from England verifying the fact. Shall we send him over? I didn’t want to do anything until I’d checked with you.’

‘Send him over,’ said Al dully.

What the fuck was Evan doing here?

Linda saw no reason why she should hang around and watch Paul discuss business with revolting Lew Margolis.

Paul had apologized to her. ‘I’m sorry my wife caught us in bed together but what was
I
supposed to do?’ If he didn’t know, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Now he was saying Al wanted them to join him at Pips.

Did he honestly expect one little apology to make everything all right? If he did, he was more of a fool than she had thought. And to add insult, he was already saying, ‘Al wants us to…’ Well, screw what Al wanted.
She
didn’t have to trip ass over elbow to do what Al wanted. Let them all run – Dallas too, if that was her scene. But she was free, white, and twenty-one… Well, maybe not exactly twenty-one – but free and white for sure.

She slipped quietly away from the party, and she hadn’t given the parking boy a second thought until he gunned her rented Chevrolet up the drive for her, hopped out and said, ‘I’m getting off now. Could you drop me on the Strip?’

She looked him up and down. Surveyed him as she would a prime leg of lamb in the supermarket. He was young, but certainly experienced. That cocky grin – she tried not to laugh at her choice of adjectives – bulging jeans, muscle-bound T-shirt.

‘Sure,’ she said casually, ‘jump in.’

He slouched in the passenger seat, chewing gum. ‘Where’s your friend?’ he asked.

As if you don’t know – she thought. You saw her leave and planned your exit with me because I’m the only woman on my own and you probably do this all the time, you randy little stud. ‘She had to leave.’

‘Yeah?’ He blew a bubble with the gum.

Bubble gum yet! She really was baby snatching!

‘You connected with the movie business?’ he asked.

‘I’m a photographer.’

‘Neat!’ he sat up very straight. ‘I’m an actor, you know.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yeah – I’m just parking cars for a friend – like helpin’ him out. I’ve been in a
Marcus
Welby
and
Bionic Woman
.’

‘That’s exciting. How old are you?’ If he was over eighteen she would allow him to have her. She would even pay for the motel room. Younger, and he was on his own.

‘Nineteen, nearly twenty,’ he said.

She smiled.

Two hours later they lay on their backs, smoking pot that he had thoughtfully produced, in a Westwood motel.

‘Again?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’

He rolled her onto her stomach, forcing her on all fours, entering her from behind. He performed like well-oiled machinery. In. Out. In. Out. All pistons working. He was bringing her to her fourth climax. She groaned. He mumbled what she took to be a few obscenities. ‘I’m gonna come,’ he announced.

It was his first time. ‘Go ahead,’ she murmured, ‘you deserve it!’.

He exploded inside her wiping out all thoughts of Paul. He didn’t collapse. He was still rock hard. She came a little after him. She had to force him off her. ‘Enough!’ she gasped, ‘I can’t take any more!’

Why was it would-be actors were such amazing lays? And how come when their star rose their cocks diminished?

She giggled softly. It was a problem she would probably never find the answer to.

Dallas was asleep when Linda finally got back to the house at four a.m.

She took her clothes off and swam in the invitingly warm pool. She had dropped her parking boy off on the Strip as she had promised him hours before.

‘I’ll call you,’ she had said.

‘I’m not on the phone, I’ll call you,’ he had countered.

‘Impossible,’ she had said. ‘You must have a number where I can reach you.’

Reluctantly he had produced a number where she could leave a message for him. ‘Why can’t I have your number?’ he had complained.

She hadn’t answered. She had blown him a kiss and driven off.

The danger was in trying to make a relationship out of one night of lust. Men had learned that lesson long ago. Women were only just beginning to learn.

In the morning the doorbell rang waking them both up at the same time.

‘Linda – you there – can you get it?’ yawned Dallas from the bedroom.

‘Got it,’ retorted Linda, inspecting an amazing array of flowers through the spyhole in the door.

She signed for them, baskets and baskets of red roses. The card was addressed to Dallas. Paul wouldn’t know about displaying such unbridled generosity.

‘Here.’ She wandered in the bedroom handing Dallas the card. ‘There’s a flower shop outside.’

Dallas opened up the card. ‘Al’ was typed neatly in the centre. Nothing else, just ‘Al’. She handed Linda the card to look at.

‘He really likes to commit himself, doesn’t he?’ mused Linda. ‘But you’re one up on everyone else, I’ve never heard of him sending any of his girls flowers.’

‘I’m not one of his girls,’ snapped Dallas irritably.

‘Don’t tell me the great A.K. struck out?’

‘I’m telling you.’

Linda clapped her hands together, ‘Hurrah! The Master has finally failed.’

Dallas stretched and yawned. ‘But I must admit I was tempted. If it hadn’t have been for what I
knew
about him…’

‘The original fuck-and-run merchant,’ interrupted Linda.

‘I know. But, Linda, you know me. I am
never
tempted. I don’t even like sex.’

‘So what makes you think things would be different with Al?’

‘It’s just a sort of feeling – more a sensation. He held my hand, it was so goddamn exciting I wanted to faint!’

‘Oh Christ!’ exclaimed Linda. ‘You sound like you’re in love.’

‘In love! Are you kidding? I’ve
never
been in love. I wouldn’t even know what it felt like.’

‘Exactly. Did you get stomach cramps? Couldn’t eat? Sweaty armpits? A feeling of euphoria?’

‘Well, now that you mention it…’

‘Shit!’ Linda clapped herself on the forehead. ‘Why did you have to pick on a creep like Al? Couldn’t you propel those feelings in a nice guy like Cody’s direction?’

‘We bumped into Cody last night. He seems to have taken the whole thing very well. He was with a blonde who resembled that dragon he turned up at lunch with in no way whatsoever.’

‘What do you want him to do – sit at home and cry?’

Dallas climbed out of bed. ‘I’m going to look at my flowers. By the way, what happened to you?’

‘San Jose.’

‘Huh?’

‘The song – remember? Would-be actor pumping gas and parking cars. He was pumping all right!’

‘You didn’t?’

‘I did, and it was a truly beautiful experience – apart from which he’s a great lay!’

Dallas screwed up her face in disgust. ‘I don’t know how you could do it.’

‘You did it for long enough.’

‘That was for money.’

‘Well, this is for like. I
like
screwing.’

‘But what about Paul?’

‘He’s different. I love him – correction, I loved him – I’m not sure how I feel any more. But while I’m finding out I’m certainly not going to give up my sex life. Coffee?’

‘If you’re making.’

Dallas arranged her flowers around the house. They looked beautiful. She showered, washed her hair and dressed. She couldn’t stop thinking about Al. Aarron phoned.

‘Why did you leave so early?’ he wanted to know.

‘I didn’t feel good,’ she lied.

‘Why don’t you come to Palm Springs with me today? I’ll fly you back in time for the studio tomorrow morning.’

‘No, Aarron. It’s my only day off and I want to do a lot of things around the house.’

‘I’m going to New York tomorrow. Perhaps next weekend.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘I’ll telephone you on Wednesday.’

She hung up. He had behaved like the perfect gentleman with her apart from hands that lingered too long on her knee. She knew if she wanted to she could get him to marry her. She could be Mrs. Aarron Mack. He was old. How many years did he have left? But the days of wanting to be married to a rich man were far behind her. She wasn’t sure what she wanted now – but it wasn’t that.

Al phoned at four o’clock. He sounded different – edgy and cold. ‘I’ll send a car for you,’ he said, ‘there’s no room in the helicopter.’

‘Hey – listen,’ she replied, ‘maybe I shouldn’t go.’

‘I
want
you to be there.’

‘Well I’m not traipsing out there all alone in a car.’

‘Christ! Don’t you be difficult, I’ve got problems enough.’

‘I don’t want to add to your problems,’ she snapped icily, and hung up on him.

He phoned back immediately. ‘What’s with you?’ he demanded.

‘What’s with
me
? What’s with
you
?’

‘Aw – shit. My son arrived out of the blue, just flew in and dumped himself on me.’

‘Why don’t you send him back?’

‘It’s not as simple as that – he’s got problems.’

‘What problems?’

‘If you’re really interested, he’s got a dose of the clap.’

‘Oh!’ She was silent. There wasn’t really much to say to that.

‘Did you get the flowers?’

‘They’re fantastic. Thank you.’

He sighed. ‘Look, how about if you bring Linda to the show?’

‘I don’t think so…’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s busy.’

‘Have you got any other friends could come with you? We could take them with us to the Rush party after.’

She thought of Kiki and Chuck. They would probably love to go. ‘I’ll make a phone call. Can you call me back?’

‘Please understand if
I
can’t call you back – I’m right in the middle of an interview. Bernie or Paul will call you. Tell them how many tickets you want. The plan is we’ll meet back at my hotel after the show, we’ll go to the party from there. Does that suit you?’

‘If you say so.’

He hesitated. ‘I wish I was with you now. Did you sleep?’

‘Yes. Did you?’

‘No. I lay awake thinking of what you and I
should
have been doing.’

She laughed softly: that was exactly what
she
had been doing.

‘Listen, I’ll see you later,’ he said. ‘Don’t let me down.’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘I’ll be singing just for you.’

Sentimental bullshit! She hung up the phone and wondered how the hell she had got into this state. She had been determined not to be affected by him, and for some stupid reason she was walking on air at the sound of his voice.

Linda was crosslegged in front of the television watching a rerun of
Starsky and Hutch
. ‘He’s a horny little devil!’ she remarked.

‘Who is?’ asked Dallas.

‘Little. Dave Starsky. Who else?’

‘I thought perhaps you were talking about your boyfriend from last night.’

‘You’re kidding – I’ve forgotten about him already.’

‘I don’t suppose you fancy coming to Al’s concert at the Hollywood Bowl tonight, and after, a party for Al at Karmen Rush’s?’

Linda lit a cigarette from the butt of one she was just finishing. ‘I honestly don’t think I could sit through one more Al King concert. Besides, it would mean seeing Paul, and I really don’t want to.’

Dallas nodded. ‘I knew you’d say that, although I can’t understand why you don’t want to see him. He was in a terrible state last night – really miserable.’

‘Good. Let
him
be the unhappy one for a change. I’ve had it with his weak excuses –
other
people get divorced when they have young kids. What’s so different about Paul?’

‘Maybe he’s frightened about the money she would take him for.’

‘He’s too smart to get taken financially – she would get exactly what he wanted her to get. Did you know he’s tight to the point of being mean? He’s never even bought me so much as a flower!’