A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA (20 page)

Jeff chuckled. “Not too many cops carry these.” He examined it closely. “It’s a beauty though.”

“I got the bullets to go with it,” Winifred said, with some satisfaction.

“It’s not loaded is it?” Peter asked, trying not to look nervous. Having been on the wrong end of a gun a couple of times had made him leery of them.

“Uh uh. Don’t worry, honey. I keep them in a safe place.” She took the gun from Jeff and replaced it in its case. They then spent a pleasant hour listening to some of Winifred’s stories of her early career, and how she decided at the age of forty to quit the business. “There just weren’t enough good parts for women my age,” she told them without bitterness. “And I didn’t want to start playing

‘mother’ to all the up and coming stars. I decided it was time to call it a day. I had made enough dough to live on quite comfortably—so what the heck?”

“You never married?” Peter asked.

“No—I came close a couple of times, but I just couldn’t find anyone as wonderful as Rob. You see, once you’ve had the best, you don’t care about the rest.”

On the way up to Olivia’s penthouse, Jeff was strangely quiet. “Something wrong?” Peter asked, taking his hand. “Did my off-color remark piss you off that much?”

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“No…” Jeff smiled at him. “I was just thinking of what Winifred said about once you’ve had the best.” He looked intently at Peter. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’m not following you…”

“You and Phillip…”

“Jeff, you don’t think that I consider you ‘the rest’ do you?” Peter put his finger on the ‘close door’ button as the elevator stopped at the penthouse floor.

“You can’t think that, surely. If I’ve ever given you that impression…”

“No, you haven’t.” Jeff sighed. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. It was stupid of me—it was just that I got to thinking there was probably some truth in what she said.”

“For her, maybe.” Peter put his arms around Jeff. “God, you know how much I love you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. I’m being a jerk…sorry.”

“We’ll talk about this later. When we’re all alone, and I can assure you that you mean everything in the world to me.”

“Can we cancel dinner?”

“I wish,” Peter said, fervently.

They stepped out of the elevator into Olivia’s marbled hallway where Joyce stood waiting to escort them to their hostess.

“Hi Joyce,” Peter said. “How are you?”

“Very well, sir.” She gave them a practiced little bob.

“Don’t do that for us Joyce,” Jeff whispered. “We’re just the peons, you know.”

Joyce giggled and led them into the living room, where Olivia stood by the bar holding a glass of champagne.

“Hi boys,” she exclaimed. They could tell she’d been at the bubbly for a while as they greeted her with a perfunctory kiss on her cheek. “You both look swell.”

“So do you, Olivia.” Peter stepped back to admire the ice-blue silk sheath dress that clung to every curve of Olivia’s gym-toned body. “You look sensational.”

Olivia beamed with pleasure. “I’ve booked a table at Sardi’s for eight o’clock; so we have time for a drinkie or two. What’ll it be?”

“I’ll wait till we’re at the restaurant, if you don’t mind,” Jeff said.

“Me too,” Peter added.

“We’ve got the limo,” Olivia pouted. “You don’t have to worry ’bout driving.”

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“That’s OK,” Jeff murmured. “We’ll pass.”

Olivia shrugged her indifference and poured herself another drink. “You won’t believe who I’ve just gotten for my show…” Without waiting to be asked who, she yelled with a degree of triumph, “
Patricia Hastings
.”

“What?” Jeff gaped at her. “You must be kidding.”

“Why on earth would you want that bitch on your show?” Peter asked.

“Because it’ll be another sure-fire hit,” Olivia crowed. “Everyone’s gonna want to see her—the mother who turned her back on her kids in their darkest hours. Everyone will hate her and I can take her apart, bit-by-bit. Show the world what a prize bitch she is.”

Peter could not believe his ears. Patricia Hastings on television, spewing out her vitriol and hatred like some demented lunatic. “Oh, Olivia—I don’t know if this is such a good idea. The woman’s not dealing with a full deck.”

Olivia frowned. “Well fortunately, you’re not in charge of who’s on my show, now are you? I think it’s a great idea. I can show her for what she is—a hard, cold woman without an ounce of compassion in her soul.”

Peter chose to ignore the rebuke, though he saw Jeff ’s fists clench in anger.

“Olivia, think about this for a moment. Patricia Hastings is almost certifiably insane. She’s a religious nut. Do you really think you’re going to get an intelligent conversation out of her? It’s going to be a disaster.”

“Hey, listen to me…” Olivia swayed slightly on her heels. “This is
my
show we’re talking about…”

“I think we’ve got that, Olivia,” Jeff said. “I think Peter is more concerned about the effect this may have on Emily and Anthony.”

“Exactly,” Peter agreed. “They’ve been through enough hell already without you bringing the mother back into the equation. All you’re doing is nailing the coffin shut on any chance of a reconciliation—slim though that might be.”

“What are talking about?” Olivia fumed. “I’m giving the old broad a shot at vindicating herself, and showing that she is capable of motherly compassion.”

“Olivia,” Jeff said, trying to hold back his anger. “By doing this, you are opening up a whole viper’s nest of hatred. Patricia Hastings is not interested in showing herself as a compassionate mother. She let that go a long time ago.

What she wants is to further her agenda by closing down your show.”

“What?” Olivia looked dumbstruck.

“Jeff thinks she’s the one writing you those threatening letters,” Peter told her. “She’s been writing similar letters to Anthony—threatening him with God’s wrath if he doesn’t leave Justin, his boyfriend, and give up his ‘perverted’

ways.”

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For a moment Olivia looked from Peter to Jeff, her mind working overtime, then she threw up her arms and yelled; “Oh, but this is great…” She turned from them and paced about the living room. “I’ll lull her into a false sense of security and then spring the fact that I know she’s been writing those damn letters. She’ll go to pieces, cry and scream about hell and damnation—the audience will love it. It’ll be the greatest show on television—the news will be full of it—I’ll be on…on 60 Minutes. I’ll be fielding all the major networks. This is going to be the greatest. Brenda hated this idea, but I knew it would work.

Thanks guys, you’ve just made my day.”

“Olivia,” Peter groaned, “You can’t be serious…”

“Are you kidding?” Olivia rasped. “I’ve never been more serious—this is going to make me more famous than Oprah.”

Jeff looked at her coldly. “You do this and you’re on your own, lady. We don’t know for sure that Patricia is sending you those letters. It’s just a hunch…”

“Sorry Jeff,” Peter muttered.

“No, no. That’s OK, Peter. I was going to tell Olivia anyway once we got some firm evidence. Nick and I are pretty sure it’s Patricia. But that’s not the point. What’s at stake here is a couple of kid’s emotional state. Emily and Anthony have come a long way since the days of abuse—but all this—seeing their mother on television blaming them for the shitty lives they’ve had…”

“They don’t have to watch, for Chrissakes!” Olivia said, throwing back her drink.

“You know, Olivia,” Jeff said. “It’s always been my considered opinion that you are a heartless bitch—and you’ve just confirmed it.” He looked at Peter.

“Let’s go, babe.”

“Wait a minute,” Olivia yelled as they made for the door. “Where d’you get off talking to me like that. I’m
employing
you, Mr. Fag Detective.”

“Not anymore, you’re not.” Jeff opened the door.

Peter, his face pale with anger, took one last look at the furious diva. “You just don’t know when to stop, do you? You don’t care who you destroy as long as you get what you want. I’ll bet you haven’t given a second thought to how this may affect Anthony and Emily—all you care about is ratings and how you look to your adoring fans. Well, I’ll tell you what you like right now…”

Jeff took his arm. “Don’t Peter. She’s not worth it. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,
get out
,” Olivia seethed. “And be sure to tune in and hear me agree with every little thing the Hastings woman has to say about the pair of
you
.”

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“That’ll give you a lot of credibility,” Peter laughed. “Agreeing with the madwoman of Newport Beach—way to go, Olivia.”

Joyce, who had watching the entire scene bug-eyed, opened the door for them.

“Can you believe those guys?” Olivia glared at Joyce as she closed the door behind them. “Fuckin’ faggots…ingrates…after all I did for them. He can take his portrait and shove it up his ass. That no-talent queer and his prissy P.I. son-of-a-bitch boyfriend…I’ll ruin the pair of ’em. Call me a heartless bitch? They don’t know the half of it.” She fixed Joyce with a baleful look. “What are you doing hanging around anyway? Go clean somethin’—make yourself useful for Chrissakes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Joyce turned and headed for the kitchen, a smirk on her face.

Boy, did she have something to tell Larry later.

“So, what do you think?” Peter asked as he and Jeff drove back down the 405

freeway toward Laguna Beach. “Will we ever hear from her again?”

“I sincerely hope not,” Jeff replied, without smiling. “That woman is someone I am very glad to call a non-friend of mine.”

“I think she’s finally gone off the deep-end. To actually want Patricia Hastings on her show…it just kind of shows what a no-class act she really is.”

“Tell me…” Jeff muttered.

“Who could have put her up to this, d’you suppose?”

Jeff glanced at Peter. “Why would you think someone put her up to it? I think she is very capable of thinking this crap up all by herself. She doesn’t give a damn who she hurts along the way.”

“I guess there isn’t anything we can do to stop her. God, Anthony is going to be so destroyed if his mother spouts all that hatred on national TV. Maybe the network won’t allow it…”

“All they care about is ratings. Olivia’s people can put a spin on this that’ll make everyone want to watch.”

They were quiet for a time, each one lost in thought. Then Peter said; “Earlier, when you and I had just left Winifred’s apartment…you said something I think we need to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Jeff squeezed Peter’s knee. “It was just what she said—it kind of caught me off-guard.”

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“But you must know it could never apply to you and me.” Peter turned in his seat to look at Jeff ’s profile illuminated by the freeway lights. “You and I—we’ve come through so much together. We’ve almost lost each other a couple of times, what with one nutcase or another trying to get in the way. But in all this time, I have never compared what I have with you to what I had with Phillip. I have never said to myself, ‘It was better then’. You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I believe you.” Jeff stared straight ahead as he spoke. “It’s just that I know your relationship with Phillip was very special…”

“As is my relationship with you,” Peter interrupted.

“Let me finish.” Jeff sighed, and looked at Peter for a moment before focus-ing on the road again. “I’ve never thought of myself as an insecure person—or at least, not in a long time. You’re right…we’ve been through a lot together, come a long way together—but still I get that feeling sometimes that this isn’t how it was supposed to be.”

“
What
?” Peter stared at him, astounded by what he had just heard. “You can’t be serious!”

“I think I’m saying this all wrong,” Jeff muttered. His jaw clenched as he pulled off the freeway.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked him.

“Just around the corner…” He pulled into a dark, deserted parking lot, killed the engine and turned to look at Peter. “I’m sorry…I’m kinda messing this up. What I’m trying to say is…you and Phillip were the perfect couple.

You and he were first loves, and if it hadn’t been for that murdering bastard, Frank Meeks, you would still be lovers. You and Phillip would still be together—still in love…”

“But Phillip is dead, Jeff,” Peter said, his voice gentle. “And as much as I loved him for all those years, and truthfully, never thought I could love anyone else, now I’m with you—in love with
you
…”

Jeff took Peter’s hand in his and held it tightly. “Yes, I know you love me—and I love you—but sometimes I feel as if you have been really cheated out of something that was meant to last forever.”

“Oh, Jeff…” Peter’s eyes misted as he gazed at the face of the man he loved.

“Maybe this is why I love you so much. Only you could think that somehow I’ve been cheated by having you in my life. You have given me something I thought I never could have again—don’t you see that? How could you think for one moment that I could ever consider you less than what you are—the most wonderful guy in the world? That’s my humble opinion, of course, but
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nothing will ever change it. You and I were meant to be. Phillip saw to that. I have always been convinced that this is what he intended.” Peter managed a little smile as he added; “He went to a lot of trouble to bring us together, so let’s not screw it up.”

Jeff returned Peter’s smile, then leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. “Sorry, I’m being an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” Peter murmured against his lips. “But the idiot I love.” They moved into each other’s arms. Peter chuckled as he slipped his hand inside Jeff ’s shirt. “We’ve never made out in a car before.”

“There’s a first time for everything…” Jeff grinned at him. “Let’s start by having you move over here with me.”

c h a p t e r 1 3

s

Brenda’s phone was ringing as she entered her apartment. For a moment she was tempted to let the message machine pick it up. She was so damned tired, and any more pressure at the end of this long day was not something she cared to think about.