Tidal Wave (13 page)

“There is a Dr. Crawford, but he’s my brother. I’ve never been married.”

“That’s so hard to believe. It amazes me that no man has been clever enough to make you his wife.

“What are
you
doing on this ship? Why have
you
chosen to take this maiden voyage? Where are you going and what have you left behind? What’s waiting for you on the dock in New York, or, should I ask,
who
is waiting at the foot of the gangway on the other end of this voyage?”

Nicholas’s questions were interrupted by the appearance of a curly-haired man who stopped at their table. At the same time two waiters appeared with a platter of assorted cheeses, breads, biscuits, butter and fruits of all kinds.

The curly-haired man said, “The cheese looks terrific. Smell that Camembert and just look at that
chèvre
, Nicholas!
I can also recommend the Stilton. By the way, how was lunch?”

Nicholas stood up laughing and said, as he went to shake his friend’s hand, “Hello, Marvin. Been watching Julia Child again, eh?” He patted him affectionately on the shoulder and said, “Marvin Kandy, I’d like you to meet Arabella Crawford.”

“How do you do, Miss Crawford?” he said, shaking her hand.

“Hello,” Arabella said.

“Won’t you sit down with us for cheese and coffee?” Nicholas asked graciously.

“No, please sit down, Nick. I’m going over to my table and have some lunch. I am famished. I really don’t want to intrude on you.”

“I don’t think we should let you eat alone, do you, Arabella?”

“No, certainly not. Please join us.”

Marvin was given a chair immediately, and a place was set for him. He looked at the menu briefly, made a quick choice, and placed his order with the
maître d’
who had been hovering by his shoulder.

Nicholas was telling Arabella, “Marvin is my agent. We started out in Hollywood together, didn’t we, Marv?”

“Yes, we did,” he answered.

“The only difference was when we started out, Marv started at the top and I began at the bottom. His father was vice president of Cougar Films. His grandfather owned the largest block of voting shares in the two greatest studios when Hollywood was in its heyday. His mother was a chorus girl in the line for Busby Berkeley, and his brother is an actor.”

“You forgot to mention that my Aunt Sarah has been an extra at Cougar Studios for forty-six years,” added Marvin.

The two men laughed.

“I think I should explain,” said Nicholas. “Sarah Pinsky, otherwise known in the family as the ‘extra,’ is Marv’s father’s eldest sister. She’s the richest one in the family,
owning enormous blocks of stock in several movie companies. She’s never been on the board of directors, has no decision-making power in the companies, yet she’s more Hollywood than Hollywood. She knows and loves the movie business more than all of them put together.

“Having been born rich and in the business, she was determined to start from the bottom and make her way up to the top as an actress without the influence of her family. She fell for the old Hollywood image of the face in the crowd or the girl on the Schwab’s drugstore stool being discovered and made into a star.”

Marvin continued the story. “Sarah has not one fraction of ability as an actress, and I am not being unkind. It’s a fact. Over forty years ago she registered as an extra with our father’s studio and she’s been driven there in a chauffeured car at least twice a week, checking in for work, ever since. Sarah Pinsky is a legend in the business. I’m sure you’ve seen her time and time again in crowd scenes, costume dramas, walk-on parts. She’s the only extra important enough to be thrown off sets for interference in production.”

“Who knows? Hollywood is so crazy, she may very well have her day yet,” added Nicholas.

“You’re the real, original Hollywood baby then, Mr. Kandy?”

“I certainly am. Don’t call me Mr. Kandy, please. Nicholas calls me Marv. My wife calls me Marvin, although she hates the name. My friends call me Sweets, and the guys in the business call me Kandy. I answer to all of them.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

Marvin turned and looked at Nicholas, then he turned back and looked at Arabella and said, “I think you had better call me Marv.

“I just came up in the elevator from A Deck,” he continued. “Two women got in on the promenade deck. They were upset because one of the women had left her glasses in this dining room. The other one told her that she wouldn’t have forgotten them if she hadn’t been so busy watching that couple at lunch. And then they tittered on about how
he
looked like Jay Gatsby, and
she
could have been the heroine of
Tender Is the Night
.
They
could have been Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald. Anyhow, I had a hunch I’d find my Nick here, but I’m delighted to meet you, Arabella.”

“My pleasure,” she said, smiling.

Marvin told Nicholas that he’d found out Cotille was on board and had asked her to lunch. She was unable to do so but agreed to meet him later. Arabella was amused by the banter between Marvin and Nicholas. Their friendship was obviously deep, their affection for each other touching. She liked Marvin and everything about him. Arabella Crawford had risen to the top of the financial and business worlds by intuition and by judging people correctly. She saw Marvin as honest, honorable, quick-witted, intelligent; a good, kind, caring human being. There was a sexiness about him as well.

The two men kept Arabella amused with jokes and anecdotes until she pleaded with them to stop. They had convinced her that Los Angeles was now a must on her list of places to visit. Their descriptions of the high times and low life that existed simultaneously in “the business” offered a fascinating inside glimpse into a world which thrived on portraying mindless perfection. Every once in a while, it seemed that quality accidentally crept onto the scene and when it did, anything could happen. They spoke about Ingrid Bergman, Jane Fonda, and Nicholas Frayne. Suddenly Nicholas realized it was getting late. He apologized to Marv for leaving him to finish his meal alone but said that he needed to walk, get some fresh air, and have a few telexes sent before noon time in New York.

Marv said, “Please do go ahead, but there are just a few things I’d like to talk over with you. It’ll only take a minute.” He looked at his watch then went on. “I’ve got to telex our broker by four o’clock, our time.

“Do you mind, Arabella, some boring money talk? I know how women hate to hear men talking business.”

Nicholas grinned at her and, turning full toward her so Marvin could not see, gave her a big stage wink.

Arabella tried to stifle her laugh and nodded yes, like a docile little girl, saying “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll just powder my nose.”

She reached into the bone color Hermès alligator handbag hanging from a heavy gold-linked chain hooked over the arm of her chair. She pulled out a Fabergé powder box of gold inlaid with stripes of rose-cut diamonds. The clasp was a circle of Cabuchon sapphires with a large oval diamond in the center.

Marvin continued, “Nick, I’ve had a telex advising us to sell our stock in Abcore, Telecone, Diamine, and Execair and put it all into Hero Ashimo and Great Britannia. The word out is that there has been an enormous merger, that Hero Ashimo and Great Britannia are the new parent companies and their stock will double its present value within a year.”

Arabella was, in fact, still powdering her nose as she said, “Eighteen months; sixteen at the earliest. Sell all the Abcore and Telecone. Hold all you have of Diamine. Sell half your Execair.”

Marvin looked at Nick and then they both looked at Arabella. She still had her compact held up in front of her eyes, the powder puff at work on her nose. She closed her eyes for a second, opened them, and put the puff back on its jewel-encrusted box.

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest, never taking his eyes off Arabella. This was a woman to reckon with. This woman was his equal. It thrilled him and frightened him all at once.

With his eyes still riveted to hers, he said, “Marv, how does that sound to you?”

Marv looked first at Arabella, hardly believing what he had heard, then he looked at Nicholas. “It’s a smart move,” he said. “But I don’t know. I’d have to make some phone calls.”

“Never mind the phone calls. Do what Arabella says.”

“Wait a minute, Nick. Do you know how much money we’re talking about?”

“No, but just do what Arabella says.”

“We’re talking about three quarters of a million dollars.” Marv turned to Arabella. “How do you know that’s the way to handle the stocks, Arabella?”

Biting her lip, she broke her gaze away from Nicholas’s eyes and said, in a sure, calm, cool business voice, “Selling the Abcore and the Telecone is a perfect move: In four days Diamine will announce the discovery of an enormous diamond strike in one of their mines. Their stock is undervalued now and no further stock will be issued. The stones mined from that strike are under analysis right now. The preliminary reports are that they are perfect — blue-whites, extremely large, all over thirty carats each.

“Execair has a small stock issue. It’s about to receive a massive injection of capital backed up by the announcement of a new jet contract from the United States Government, irrevocable for five years.”

Arabella picked up her handbag and put the compact away. Marvin was speechless. Nicholas was awestruck. Neither of them knew quite what to say to her.

Marvin turned to Nicholas and said, in a subdued voice his friend had never heard before, “Nick, you say go, I say we go.”

“Well, that’s it then, Marv,” said Nicholas. He stood up, walked around to Arabella’s chair, and took her by the hand.

She stood up, slightly embarassed, and said, “It was a lovely lunch. Your stories about L. A. are wonderful. It was nice to meet you, Marv.”

Marv stood up, picked up her hand and kissed it. He said, “You are quite a lady, Arabella Crawford. I wish I had found you first.”

Nicholas and Arabella walked from the dining room and he said, “You never did answer how you knew to make those moves with the stocks.”

“No, I never did, did I.”

They walked a bit farther in silence and then Arabella said, “Oh, I hope that wasn’t a blunder, advising you about stocks. You see, I’m still in transition from being a woman
in power to a woman at play. In the ‘old world’ it would have been just as natural for me to order those moves. You see, it was, after all, my work. I blurted out the right moves for Marvin to make because it’s a habit of taking over and directing, built up over many years. I suppose it was natural. You don’t shake off a habit overnight. I’m no longer interested in stocks, bonds, and conglomerates. It was an automatic reflex of having to make a quick decision, do the right thing at the right moment, of having to win, having to succeed. It’s hard to believe that the ‘having to’ for me is over, but that’s why I acted that way. How I knew the information about those specific stocks is another matter. Nicholas, when the right time comes, I’ll tell you more about it, okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Arabella. Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything. We have a lifetime to talk to each other.”

He slipped his arm through hers, held her hand, and squeezed it as they walked on.

It’s too soon to tell him, she thought. I knew what to do because those were my companies, which I sold yesterday. I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out I’ve just pulled off the largest sell-off any businesswoman has ever made and that, as of yesterday, I’m one of the richest women in the world? How am I going to feel about shedding the old skin and getting into a new one? I wonder if a fantasy can ever be lived out and be as satisfying as the dream!

Arabella’s mind wandered as they walked arm in arm through the shopping arcade on the promenade deck while they waited for a steward to bring a coat from Arabella’s stateroom. They were doing what Arabella called “serious window shopping,” barely saying a word to each other, looking at the extravagant array of clothing and jewels, crystal and china. Suddenly she wondered whether Nicholas was spoiled, a handsome but spoiled film star who expected her to fall at his feet, body and soul, babbling about her life story. Perhaps he was too egotistical to care or too proud to ask questions; he would learn what he wanted by not asking but creating a silence between them.

They were looking in a window at exquisite handmade lingerie, but all she was seeing was his reflection in the glass. There was no getting away from it. She was madly attracted to him. The man had sexual charisma and beauty — a lethal combination for a woman. Was it any wonder that women spoiled and adored him?

He turned from the window to face her and said, “When next you come to me in the night you need not bother with any of these enticing bits and pieces. Come to me naked, natural under your coat.”

“Oh,” she said — a very haughty “oh” — “you seem very sure that I’m going to come to you in the night. Do all your women?”

“Yes, mostly. I don’t usually have to chase after the women I’m interested in.”

“Oh, are you chasing after me?”

“Courting, that’s what I’m doing with you — courting you. I told you that.” He smiled down at her.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re laughing at me, Nicholas?”

“Because I am. You’re angry with yourself because you gave away something about yourself that you would rather not have.”

Arabella started to defend herself, but Nicholas kept going. “Now, simmer down. I won’t ask you anything. You and I will tell each other whatever we like when and if we want to, voluntarily. Nothing has changed. I’ve known from the very first moment I set eyes on you that you are an extraordinary woman. Beautiful and full of life.” He bent close to her ear and whispered, “And very, very sexy. Don’t be anxious and try to look for a wedge to put between us. Relax, give us a chance!”

Thoughts were racing through her mind. Was this some old movie he was replaying? Was it true emotion? Was he more ready for this than she was? Why did she feel so out of control?