Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life (10 page)

Betsy smiled
and extended her back hand for Mick to kiss.
 
“That’s my stage name,” she said.
 
“I don’t tell anybody my real name.
 
Is Mick Sinatra your stage name too?”

Mick shook,
rather than kissed her hand.
 
“No,” he
said.
 
“I have no stage name.
 
Nice to meet you, Betsy.”

“Thanks for
paying me,” Betsy said.
 
“A hundred
dollars for what was nothing more than a little audition, was very generous.
 
We actresses can use it wherever we can get
it.”

Bed action
chick, he thought.
 
“I’m sure that’s
true,” he said.
 
He only hoped she wasn’t
rubbing off on Rosalind.

Betsy
smiled.
 
“So what are you doing here?”

Mick looked
at Roz.
 
His eyes said what his mouth
didn’t have to:
get rid of her
.

“Can you
give us a minute, Bess?” Roz asked her friend.
 
“I think he wants to talk to me.”

Betsy was
surprised.
 
Usually the guys picked her
first.
 
Roz was usually the one they went
to when Betsy turned them down.
 
Not the
other way around.
 
“Sure,” she said.
  
Then she smiled at Mick.
 
“Nice seeing you again.”

“Same here,”
Mick said with a smile.
 
“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,”
Betsy said, looked at Roz again as if it was some kind of conspiracy going on,
and then headed for their building’s entrance.

“I didn’t
know she was your neighbor,” Mick said.

“Yeah, she
is.
 
We live in the same building.
 
That’s how we met.”

“I thought
it would be at that acting studio, in your class.”

“That came
afterwards.
 
She found out I taught
acting and decided she could use some pointers.”

“Is she any
good?”

“Actually,
she is.
 
She’s one of those natural
talents you spoke about.”

Mick nodded.

“Her
question, however,” Roz said, “was a good one as well.
 
What are you doing here?”

Mick felt a
little embarrassed by the question.
 
It
revealed, he felt, more than he ever wanted to reveal.
 
But it couldn’t be helped.
 
“Do you have plans this evening?” he asked
her.

Roz didn’t
have plans, and she wasn’t going to pretend she did, or that she had to check
her calendar first, as if she wasn’t interested.
 
She was interested.
 
When he left her apartment building three
weeks ago, she felt as if she had missed some great opportunity.
 
She didn’t like the feeling.
 
This felt like her second chance.
 
“No,” she said.
 
“I have no plans.”

“I have a
dinner date with Barry Acker and his wife.
 
I’m sure they have room for one more.
 
Care to join us?”

It sounded
almost dream-worthy.
 
The idea that she
would break bread with the likes of Broadway Director Barry Acker and his
wife.
 
Things like this didn’t usually
happen to Roz.
 
“Actually, yes,” she
said.
 
“That sounds great.
 
But will I have time to change?”

Mick glanced
down at her attire: a nice gray pantsuit.
 
She undoubtedly always dressed nice.
 
But he understood.
 
She wanted to
freshen up.
 
“You absolutely have time to
change,” he said.
 
“I have some phone
calls to make so I’ll wait for you out here.
 
Take your time.”

Roz was
pleased to know it was no rush situation.
 
She looked at Deuce, who seemed pleased too. “I won’t be long,” she
said, as she made her way across the sidewalk and entered her building.
 
As soon as the door closed, she ran
upstairs.
 
If there was a way that feeling
like a million bucks could be personified, she was the personification of that
feeling.

Mick was
sitting in the backseat of the limo finishing up yet another business call when
she came back out of the building.
 
He
looked at her, intending only to glance, but he found himself looking again.
 
And then lingering in his look.
 
Talk
about hot
, he thought.
 
She wore a
form-fitting black pencil skirt with red piping at the hem, a tucked-in white
sleeveless blouse, and matching heels that elevated her average height.
 
Her thick, wavy hair was lifted up and held
together by a tasteful pin, while the back of her hair dropped down in curls
along her thin neck.
 
The socialites of
his past, the wealthy businesswomen and supermodels, did so little with so
much.
 
Rosalind was different.
 
She did so much with so little.
 
Because that simple, understated outfit she
wore looked more tasteful and ladylike to him than all of those name brand,
impractical, and uncomfortable clothes his prior ladies wore as if it were
their birthright.
 
Roz looked so sweet to
him, and so vulnerable to him at that very moment, that he felt a sudden need
to protect her.
 
He felt a sudden need to
keep her close.
 
He felt a sudden need to
want to do right by her.
 

Mick ended
his business call and got out of his limo before Deuce could get back out and
make his way around to the passenger door.
 
Roz was smiling as she came.
 
“Hope I didn’t take too long,” she said.
 

The way she
walked with such bounce in her step, and the way her bright, white, beautiful
dimpled smile lit up the night, made it clear to him that she could have taken
hours and he would not have complained.
  
“Not at all,” he responded.
 
He
was not the kind of man given to sentimentality or any kind of romanticism
either, but he felt both tonight.

He placed
his hand on the small of her back as she sat in the backseat across from where
he had been sitting.
 
He could smell her
fresh perfume as she moved past him, and he felt a jolt in his penis when she
accidentally brushed against him.
 
If he
loved touching her while she was fully clothed, he could only imagine how he
was going to enjoy touching her naked body.
 
But all things in time, he thought, as he got on the seat across from
her, and Deuce closed the door.

As Deuce got
behind the wheel and they began their trek to Jersey, it wasn’t long before
Mick found himself slouched, his arm on the middle armrest, and enjoying the
fact that she was near.
 
He was a man who
always felt tired and on the brink of collapse given his increasingly stressful
line of work, but he felt just the opposite around Roz.
 
He felt younger, and vibrant, and bursting at
the seams with life and all of its possibilities.
 
It was a strange feeling for Mick, and he was
going to savor it.

Roz, too,
felt alive and vibrant as they drove to Barry’s house.
  
Although Mick spent a good deal of the ride
fielding phone call after phone call, Roz spent that same time observing
him.
 
He looked drained to her, as if he
was working too hard but had to keep working anyway and nothing or nobody was
going to stand in his way.
 
Some women
would be offended by his lack of attention, but Roz wasn’t one of them.
 
It was a good sign to her.
 
It was the sign of a man who had his
priorities straight.
 
Business and then
pleasure.
 
Later, if their association
led to something serious, and they actually did become a couple, it would have
to flip.
 
Roz would insist upon it.
 
But expecting him to change his style for her
now, when he barely knew her, would be ludicrous.
 
Let him handle his business.
 
She was fine with that.

She still didn’t
know the true nature of his business, just that he was a businessman, but from
the bits and pieces of conversation she couldn’t help but hear, it seemed as if
he oversaw a vast empire.
 
She heard him
fire somebody, promote somebody, cuss somebody out.
 
He didn’t give a nickel and didn’t take
one.
  
Roz was impressed.
 
He could be the most consequential man she’d
ever met.

  
He could also be the most dangerous.
 
She couldn’t say why she felt that way, but
she felt that way.
 
He was a bad boy.
 
He’d already made that clear to her.
 
But the fact that he had another side, and
she was getting through to that side of him, was exciting.
 
Bad boys didn’t get turned down sexually by
some random woman and then show up at her doorstep three weeks later if they didn’t
have another side.
 
Mick showed up.
 
He came back.

That meant
the world to Roz.

By the time
the limo pulled up at Barry’s big suburban house, Mick was ending his last
call.
 
And he waited for the nag.
 
Every woman in his past complained whenever
he had to handle business while transporting them to dinner, and he always had
to cuss their asses out and remind them that they didn’t mean shit to him and
he could put them out right here and right now if they didn’t like it.
 
He was that kind of man.

But Roz
proved her mettle again.
 
Because she
didn’t complain at all.
 
She seemed
perfectly content to sit back and enjoy the ride.
 
Being with him seemed to be enough.
 
Mick wasn’t used to that.
 
And he loved it.
 
She proved her differentness again.

“What are
you writing?” Mick asked.

Roz had
pulled a slip of paper out of her purse and was writing something on it.
 
“My cell phone number,” she said.
 
“Give me yours.”

Mick smiled
at the way she commanded him that way, and then reached into his pocket, pulled
out a business card, and wrote his cell phone number on the back.
 
He handed the card to her.

“Thanks,”
she said, as she handed her number to Mick.
 
“I like to keep the cell phone number of the person I’m out with in case
we get separated.”

Mick smiled
again.
 
It would be some trick to get
separated like that at a house party, but he didn’t quarrel with her.
 
He liked her efficiency.

Barry Acker
and his wife Agnes met them at the door.
 
What surprised Roz was that Barry, a man in his sixties, had a wife who
looked younger than Roz.
 
And movie star
beautiful too, like a clone of Nicole Kidman, down to the flowing red
hair.
 
She wondered if his wife had been
one of those brownnosers in one of his plays who had a talent, not for acting,
but for wooing directors and producers as if they were born seductresses.
 
But Roz wasn’t going to judge.
 
Maybe it was love.

But when
they entered the foyer of the home, and Mrs. Acker made it a point of hugging
Mick and then kissing him on the lips, Roz knew better. Love her ass.
 
She was a seductress from way back and even
with Barry at her side, she had her sights set on Mick.

Mick,
however, immediately pulled back from her, placed his hand on the small of
Roz’s back, and pushed Roz slightly forward.
 
“I want you to meet Rosalind,” he said to Agnes.
 
“Rosalind, this is Barry’s wife Agnes.”

Agnes had
some acting chops too, Roz thought, because she put on an excellent,
Tony-caliber,
how thrilled I am to meet
you
performance.
 
“Hi, Rosalind.
 
It’s so wonderful to meet you!”

“Nice to
meet you too, Mrs. Acker.”

She expected
Agnes to tell her to call her Agnes or whatever nickname, but she did not.
 
She wanted to keep her superiority
intact.
 
But Mick cut her down to size.
 
“Call her Agnes,” he said to Roz.

Roz could
tell Agnes didn’t like it, but being the trooper she was, she went along with
it.
 
“Yes, please,” she said
dramatically.
 
“Or Aggie.
 
That’s what Micky calls me.”

Roz didn’t
respond to that.
 
And Barry took
over.
 
After finding out what they all wanted
to drink, he headed for the bar in the living room while they headed for the
sofa.

Agnes placed
her arm in Roz’s arm and escort her to the sofa.
 
“Did Micky bore you with silence on the ride
over?” she asked.
 
Mick followed behind
them.
 
“He’s no big talker, you know.”

“It was a
nice ride over,” was all Roz would say about it.

“Yes, but
were you bored?” Agnes asked.
 
“Micky
never bores me, but I’ve heard from his previous ladies how inattentive he can
be.”

But as Roz
was about to sit on the sofa, Agnes steered her to the flanking chair.
 
“The best seat in the house for you,
Rosalind,” she said, as Roz sat down in the chair.
  
“Or can I call you Roz?
 
Most Rosalinds prefer Roz.”

“Roz is
fine.”

Agnes sat in
the middle of the sofa, and patted the seat for Mick to sit beside her.
 
He did, but not on the cushion where she was
patting, but on the seat beside Roz’s chair.
 
Mick didn’t play games, not even with Agnes.

“So,” Agnes
said to him, that award-winning smile again.
 
“I was absolutely blown away when Barry told me you were actually going
to come and break bread with us.
 
It’s
been such a long time.”

“You know
Barry,” Mick said.
 
“He doesn’t take no
for an answer.”

“He loves
you,” Agnes said.
 
“He worries about you
like a brother.”

“I wouldn’t
go that far,” Barry said from across the room, and everybody laughed.

Actresses
who worked with him before told Roz that he was a straight shooter who called
it like he saw it.
 
He never cast Roz in
any of his Broadway productions, only his off-Broadway shows, so he apparently
didn’t see any great acting chops in her.
 
But she couldn’t hold that against him.
 
He preferred a certain type of actress, and she wasn’t that type.
 
That didn’t mean she wasn’t a good
actress.
 
That didn’t mean she was going
to steer clear of every one of his productions.
 
No way.
 
Broadway, and by
extension Broadway producers and directors, were as fickle as the rain.
 
One day you’re the toast of the town, the
next day you’re just toast.
 
On any given
day, any decent actress could get any part.
 
Actresses like Roz lived for those given days.

Mick leaned
back and crossed his legs.

Agnes leaned
back too, putting herself shoulder to shoulder with Mick.
 
“I was going to set you up with this very
nice lady,” she said, “but Barry told me not to do it.
 
He said that was the only way you would
come.”

“That’s
right,” Mick said.

“I see why
now,” Agnes said with that smile again, as she looked at Roz.
 
“She’s lovely.”

Mick looked
at Roz too.
 
“I agree.”

“Not the
drop dead types I’ve seen you with, but she’s cute.”

The dagger,
Roz thought.
 
And Mick looked at her, as
if she was going to argue Agnes’ point.
 
But Roz knew her worth.
 
She held
her peace.

But Mick
didn’t.
 
“I think she’s stunning,” he
said to Agnes.
 
“Inside and out.”

Barry, from
the back of the bar in the back of the room, watched Mick as he watched
Roz.
 
Mick almost never gave his date a
compliment like that.

“We weren’t
expecting you to bring your own date, however,” Agnes continued.
 
“That’s my point.”

Roz knew
this date wasn’t exactly long term planning on Mick’s part, but she at least
thought he would have warned their dinner hosts that he was bringing someone
with him.
 
But apparently he had not.

“I knew an
additional person would not be a problem,” he said.

“But what if
I would have defied Barry, as I am known to do, and invited that nice young
lady along anyway?
 
This would have been
a very awkward situation.”

“No, it
wouldn’t,” Barry said from behind the bar.
 
“Not for Micky, anyway.
 
He would
have told that chick to get lost without giving it a second thought.”

“And by
hurting her feelings he would have hurt mine,” Agnes pointed out.

But Barry
snorted.
 
He knew his wife too well.
 
“You would have gotten over it.”

“And sooner
rather than later,” Mick added, and Barry laughed.

“Very
funny,” Agnes said, smiling too.

Barry
arrived with their drinks on a tray.
 
Roz
took hers, Mick took his, and then Barry gave his wife her drink and sat down
beside her.
 
Agnes, Roz noticed, slanted
away from Mick and toward Barry.

“So,” Agnes
said to Roz, “how long have you known this rascal?”

“About three
weeks,” Roz said.

“They met at
the auditions,” Barry said.

Agnes looked
at him.
 
“Your auditions?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.”
 
Agnes was surprised.
 
“So you’re an actress too?”

“I am, yes.”

“Of any
note?”

Roz didn’t
realize she had hesitated, but she did.
 
Mick and Barry both were looking at her.
 
“I’ve had some success off-Broadway,” she said.

“When?”

“A few years
ago I was in--”

“Not the
past, love,” Agnes interrupted her.
 
“The
past means absolutely nothing in this line of work.
 
You have to know that.
 
What success have you had lately, not years
ago?”

Mick stared
at Roz.
 
How did she handle
hostility?
 
Because it was clear to him:
Agnes was gunning for her.

“I have not
had any success lately,” Roz said without flinching.
 

Agnes seemed
to wait for her to give an excuse for her lack of recent success, but Roz
didn’t go there.
 
Mick was pleased.
 
Agnes was pissed.

Barry
intervened.
 
“Agnes can relate,” he
said.
 
“When she was trying to make it
she stumbled along too.
 
Until she met
me, of course.”

“I wouldn’t
characterize my career that way,” Agnes responded.
 
“Unlike her, I had success.
 
And it wasn’t off-Broadway either.”

“No, dear,”
Barry said, “it was off-off-Broadway.”

“Don’t
listen to him,” Agnes said. “I’ve had great success.”

Barry patted
her hand.
 
“If you say so, dear.”

Agnes smiled
again and placed an arm around Mick’s and her husband’s.
 
“It’s so good to have my two favorite men
together again,” she said.

And it
wasn’t until she said that did Mick remember their past.
 
And the fact that he and Barry had had a
threesome with her once upon a time, before Barry asked her to marry him.
 
It would not have bothered him at all if any
other woman was sitting in that chair looking at them.
 
But Rosalind was sitting there.
 
It bothered him mightily.

He remove
his arm from Agnes’ entanglement and leaned forward, as if he had to shield Roz
from the contamination.
 
It was an
absolute rebuke of Agnes, and Agnes and Barry both knew it.
  
Roz knew it too.
 
What she didn’t know was why.

They stayed
for dinner, and enjoyed the meal, and Roz even got used to Agnes flirtatious
behavior toward Mick.
 
What she couldn’t
understand was how Barry was not only allowing it, but seemed to be enjoying
it.
 
The sign of a man, she thought, who
was doing his own flirting somewhere.

But after
dinner, when the Ackers seemed interested in continuing to hang out, Mick said
they had to leave.
 
And they knew like
Roz knew that when Mick said he was leaving, there was no point in arguing with
him.
 
He was already heading for the
door.

The drive
back was the exact opposite of the drive over.
 
Mick had turned off his phones as they rode in relative silence.
 
She wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed
the evening, but that would have been a lie.
 
She enjoyed being with him, but Agnes Acker was a bit much.

“I’m glad
you got a chance to spend time with your friends,” she said.

“Thank
you.
 
Barry and I go back quite a few
years.
 
I own a club he used to manage,
before his days on Broadway.”

That
surprised Roz.
 
For some reason she never
thought of Barry Acker as anything but a Broadway director. “What about Agnes?”
she asked.
 
“She seemed very infatuated
with you.”