Sins of Omission (50 page)

Assaro raised his eyebrows. “They were right, you are gallant.” He smiled devilishly. “I'll remember what you said. Lunch next week? Thursday at say…noonish? I'll call you.”

Thunderstruck, all Reuben could do was smile knowingly and nod. The man's eyebrows were painted on, and there was a hint of color on his lips. Wait until he told Max about the competition. When Bebe jerked at his arm, he suddenly remembered his manners and introduced her.

“How…sweet you look,” Assaro purred. “Where are your pigtails, darling?”

“Home in my drawer.” Bebe smiled innocently.

Assaro's face rearranged itself. “Meow. You'll do, darling.”

“He's a cat,” Bebe snorted the moment they were out of earshot.

Reuben tried not to smile. “Now, now, we're his guests, so let's be nice. You are going to behave, aren't you?”

“Of course I am. I won't embarrass you, if that's what you mean.” She huffed. “Lunch…noonish…I'll call you…And what does he mean, ‘do business with you'?…I think I
know
what he means, but—”

“That's none of your business, and it's not what you think,” Reuben said gently. “Let's just enjoy the evening, shall we?”

“Well, for heaven's sake, Reuben, you must admit his lip color is pretty vibrant…everyone know she's a flaming—”

“For God's sake, lower your voice. Where did you hear that?”

“From my father, who got it from some of the men he—I can't believe you'd have anything to do with those big eyes and rouged cheeks. Sweet, my foot,” Bebe snarled.

Reuben tried changing the subject. “There must be at least two hundred people here,” he said, his eyes scouring the room.

For the next two hours Bebe and Reuben were approached by directors and producers, actors and actresses, from all the major studios and from Fairmont. Not a moment passed without someone either waving in their direction or stopping at the cozy table. At one point champagne was brought over, compliments of Paramount.

“Sometimes it's embarrassing to wave or greet someone you don't really know,” Reuben blurted out after their waiter had placed pheasant under glass for two in front of them. “I recognize their faces, but I really don't know too many of these people personally.”

“That's all right,” Bebe reassured him. “It's obvious they know you. You wouldn't have been invited otherwise. They're all watching you, or me in this red dress. Our party started the ball rolling, and now…just smile, like you're enjoying things. Don't you understand, it's all a game. You're becoming well known in this town. My father used to be invited to occasions like this all the time; then the invitations stopped, he refused to conform, it's that simple. I guess it's your turn. Just don't give them what they think they want.”

“What's that?” Reuben asked, puzzled.

“Any indication that you're going to get the jump on them. It's too early yet to do that. I told you, it's a game,” Bebe said quietly. “One by one they'll all come around to you. You were invited here for a reason, Reuben. Just relax and enjoy the limelight.”

Reuben looked at her long and hard, studying her as she smiled and waved to people and spoke to them with a smooth social ease. She was born and bred for this, he mused.

“Eyes are boring into your back,” Bebe whispered.

“I know.” Reuben chuckled; he was beginning to enjoy himself.

Zukor and deMille were next, asking him and Bebe to join them for dinner. “We'd love to, but we have another engagement.”

“You're leaving!” Zukor said in surprise.

“What could be more important than this opening?” deMille asked, abashed.

Reuben just smiled and raised his champagne glass to them. He was still smiling when Bebe kicked him.

“What do you mean, we're leaving? We just got here and we've just been served…I'm hungry. When you take a girl out you're supposed to feed her.”

“All right, we'll stay just a few more minutes, until dinner is over. But remember—always leave them wanting more. After we're gone they'll have something to talk about. Not that you need to know, but I'll tell you anyway: I won't be lunching with Assaro, at least not this week. Feel better?”

“He'll eat you alive. Look, there's the guy he's been known to hang around with. Eli knows him. In fact, I think Eli gets most of…of his merchandise from him. Russell Stark. He's a married man,” “Bebe concluded virtuously.

Reuben grinned and shook his head. “Let's say good night to our host. Do you see him?”

“Who could fail to miss those teeth? Real teeth can't ever be that white,” she said.

All in all, Reuben thought, it was an interesting evening. He'd even enjoyed Bebe's company and her sour comments on the host. He'd gotten some insight from her, too. Maybe the boss's daughter could be helpful to him in more ways than he thought. She was just as radiant and socially adept as she'd been at Fairmont's party. Only tonight she didn't have all those birds to contend with. He laughed to himself at the memory as Ramone Assaro rushed up to them.

“But darlings, you
can't
leave! You'll miss my grand entertainment. Duke Ellington”—Assaro smiled—“has promised to give us an evening we won't forget. You can't leave,” he said coolly. “No one ever leaves my clubs before the wee hours of the morning.”

Reuben smiled his most charming smile. “Being first at something carries its own rewards. Thank you for inviting us. I'll look forward to lunch.”

“Good night,” Bebe said sweetly, so sweetly Reuben wanted to laugh.

They left then, ushered out by the same liveried footmen in their red and white outfits. They didn't see Assaro's jaw drop or his worried glances as he searched out the other men of prominence in the room. The last thing he needed was to have a handsome man start a new trend by leaving early.

 

It wasn't quite midnight when Reuben swung the studio car alongside the Rosen front entrance. It looked pretty at night, with the moonlight bathing everything in a silvery glow. He knew there would be dew on the grass because the crickets were chirping and chattering, the sound coming from the gardens in back of the house. The mansion was ablaze with light, and he couldn't help wondering which rooms Eli and Sol were in, or if they were still awake. He felt it a blatant waste of money to burn so many lights.

“Oh, look, Reuben, a shooting star!” Bebe whispered. Reuben looked upward to the star-filled sky and smiled. He'd seen it, too.

“Now we have to make a wish, each one of us,” Bebe said in a hushed voice. “Shooting-star wishes always come true. My mother told me that when I was a little girl. Close your eyes tight and wish.” Bebe closed her own eyes and wished…for Reuben to love her as much as she loved him. She risked a glance at him from under her thick lashes. His eyes were closed and he wore a fierce look.

Mickey…please respond to my letters and reassure me of your love.
Reuben felt silly but hopeful…and if she didn't…Bebe would assure him a new place in paradise.

“I'll tell you my wish if you tell me yours,” Bebe urged.

“If I tell you my wish, it won't come true,” Reuben said.

“Are you going to kiss me good night?” she asked plaintively.

“I hadn't thought much about it,” Reuben said. It was a lie: he'd been thinking of nothing else on the ride home. Thinking about how soft her lips were, how her arms would feel around his neck, how sweet she smelled. How she was the boss's daughter, and whatever Sol owned would eventually belong to Bebe.

“You better make up your mind pretty quick, Reuben, because I'm going into the house. There really aren't any rules, you know…about kissing, I mean. Girls kind of expect it, men want to but aren't sure if they'll get slapped. I expect it and won't slap you.” She looked up at him, wide-eyed and expectant. “Well?”

Reuben got out of the car and opened the door for her. “When I want to kiss you, or anyone else for that matter, it will be because I want to, not because it's expected.”

“Oh, poo. Stop being so starchy and stiff. You don't have to kiss me. I'll continue to live if you don't, so don't go thinking it's an earth-shattering decision. I had a very nice time this evening. I think I did, anyway. I still don't understand why we had to leave just when the evening was starting to warm up. I think it was—”

“Don't think, Bebe. I know what I'm doing. Ah…it was nice of you to go with me. Maybe next time we'll stay longer.”

Bebe's sagging spirits lifted. He'd said next time. That had to mean he was going to ask her out again. She was going to have to learn patience.

“Good night, Reuben. Sleep well.”

Before he could turn, she reached up and brushed her lips softly against his. Before he could draw back, she was gone.

In the car driving back to his apartment, all kinds of doubts skittered through Reuben's head. She was so young, so beautiful…charming, actually. He'd enjoyed her company and knew he would have kissed her if she hadn't asked him so bluntly. She'd wanted him to kiss her. And then that silly business with the wish. What had she wished for? He'd give up a good deal to know. What would she have done if he'd told her what he wished for? She would have clawed his eyes out. The thought amused him, and he smiled. The smile was still with him when he let himself into the quiet apartment.

In the darkness of his room, with only the moon sifting through the curtains, he finally relaxed. He was moving now, upward. If he could keep up his momentum, he would make it to the top. In the stillness of his room, he analyzed his assets. Youth and his own brand of maturity, his ability to keep a poker face in business dealings, his moxie, as Sol called it. His ability to be ruthless would be his strongest point. If he wanted to survive in this business, he would have to nurture that particular trait. Then and there, he made up his mind that he would be ruthless up front and try to be fair behind the scenes. He couldn't ask more of himself.

Sleep reached out to Reuben then, soft and warm, welcoming him to that peaceful place where all worries and doubts seemed to fall away. In time he dreamed, images following one after the other. Mickey walking hand in hand with him, dropping his hand, running from him. Mickey offering him a glass of wine and then taking it back, running from him. Mickey holding out her arms to him and then turning to run away. Always he stood rooted to the ground, a disbelieving look on his face. His feet wouldn't move. He was stuck in something…his own inadequacy. “Mickey, Mickey,” he muttered in his sleep. “Don't you care? Can't you see that you've broken my heart? Mickey, please, come back.”

In the morning he wouldn't remember the dream. It was too painful.

 

“It's not that late, Bebe,” Eli coaxed. “As soon as I heard the car I went downstairs and fixed us some cocoa.”

Bebe let herself be drawn into Eli's austere bedroom. At night, with the lamps lit, it didn't seem so cold and unfriendly.

“I had a good time,” she offered, kicking off her shoes. She curled up on Eli's pillows like a cat snuggling for warmth by the fire.

“Who was there? What did they have to eat? I know I can read about it tomorrow, but hearing it from you will be better.”

“It looked like a movie set, that's how perfect it was. There were hundreds of roses, all over the place, in vases, in baskets, decorating the tables in clumps. They were kind of nestled in some kind of waxy, green leaves. The tables were covered in snow-white satin to complement the roses. All the dishes were crystal and silver. It was almost blinding. We didn't eat much, though.”

Eli squirmed, inching closer to Bebe. “Why?”

“They started to serve us, and we were leaving. Reuben wanted to leave, so I had to leave, too, but the food we sampled was scrumptious. It must have cost a fortune and taken days to prepare. Lobster, caviar, duckling, pheasant under glass, and lots of French wine. And before you can ask me, yes, there was liquor, and no, I don't know where it came from. One of your…business associates was there, Russell Stark.”

“Who else was there?”

“Everyone, Eli, just everyone. Over two hundred people. All the bigshots, little shots, too.” She giggled. “But if you mean who was there from Fairmont, I can tell you we were well represented. Clovis Ames and a lot of the newer stars that signed on while I was abroad. All the bigwigs were there—Goldwyn, Selznick, Mayer, deMille, Zanuck, just everybody. Clovis was with Lester and Damian. Reuben spoke to some of the bigwigs, they sort of introduced themselves. You should have seen him, Eli. He looked so…professional, so…important and powerful…it sort of oozes out of him. Ramone couldn't take his eyes off him, and some of the women there were positively smoldering when they looked at him. I felt very flattered to be with him. Then we left,” she finished flatly.

They were curled up together on the bed, brother and sister, their arms entwined at the elbow.

“But why? It sounds like it was just starting to liven up. Doesn't make sense,” Eli grumbled. He didn't want the night to be over, he wanted to keep Bebe to himself, to savor the closeness they'd lost.

“Ramone did his best to coax him to stay. This young black man named Duke Ellington was scheduled to entertain. It was…heavenly. I just relaxed and enjoyed being with Reuben. It wasn't anything like that disgusting party in Frisco.”

“What time did you leave? It's only a little after midnight now.”

“Around eleven-fifteen.”

“Did he kiss you good night?” Eli asked sourly.

“No, he did not. He put me in my place, but I took it with good grace. I think he'll ask me to go out again. I had such a wonderful time.” Bebe snuggled deeper into the crook of her brother's arm. “We saw a shooting star and made a wish. Reuben wouldn't tell me what he wished. If mine comes true, I'll tell you, but only if it comes true.”