A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA (21 page)

“What the hell,” she muttered, shrugging and picking up the receiver. “Yes?”

“Brenda—how’s it going for you these days?”

For a moment she could not believe her ears. That voice…it could only be…“What the hell do you want?” she rasped.

“Now, is that anyway to greet an old friend?”

“Skip the crap, Brad. What d’you want?”

“Always the business woman, eh Brenda?”

“I said, cut it or I hang up. Now, for the last time—what do you want?”

“I want back in, Brenda. I want to be a part of the team again…” He was silenced by Brenda’s raucous laughter.

“Are you out of your mind?” she brayed. “Are you serious? Do you think for one moment that Olivia would ever consider you back in her life? Do you really think that the most famous daytime talk show host in America would stoop to having some longtime loser mess up her life?”

“Brenda dear, do you remember what happened the last time you called me a loser?”

“Yes, I remember,
loser
! And if you try any of that shit again, I’ll have you locked up for good. Things have changed around here
loser
, or haven’t you noticed? Me and Olivia don’t get scared like we used to. Now, we have the power to put little losers like you out of commission for good. You try anything—anything at all and you will be finished. I will personally see to it!”

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There was silence on the line for a moment, then he said; “I’m very sorry to hear you say all that, Brenda…” Despite herself, Brenda felt a chill run down her spine at the menace in his voice. “You must remember that I know all about you Brenda—
all
about you. Somehow, I don’t think that even you have risen so high that those past indiscretions couldn’t bring you down.
All
the way down, Brenda. If the press got hold of just who and what you are…well, let’s say that life wouldn’t be quite so rosy for you anymore.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Oh, but I would.” She heard the man sigh. “Yeah, there would be repercus-sions for Olivia too, of course. She’d probably get canned. I mean, there’s just so much the public can stand, even from the rich and famous. You know I’m right, Brenda. What I know could ruin you both for all time.”

Brenda breathed hard. She had to play for time. “Okay, so what do you want me to do?”

“That’s better. Arrange a meeting with me and Olivia—alone. I don’t want you there, understand?”

“She’ll never agree to it.”

“She’d better agree to it. That’s why I’m calling you, Brenda. You’ll make sure she agrees.”

“Okay. When?”

“Saturday—at her place in LA.”

“Christ,” Brenda muttered. “What time?”

“Say around three.”

“I’ll see what I can do…”

“No Brenda. I’m not fooling around here. If this isn’t set up for Saturday, I’m selling the story to the highest bidder—and believe me, there will be lots of

’em.”

“Bastard,” she fumed.

Brad laughed. “That’s me, Brenda—bastard to your bitch. I’ll be there on Saturday. She’d better be there too.” The line went dead.

Brenda sat down heavily and put her head in her hands. What the hell was she going to do? Olivia was going to come unglued when she heard about this.

There was no way she’d agree to meet him—
no way
. She would just have to make sure it didn’t happen. The phone ringing again startled her. She let the answer machine pick up.

“Brenda?” It was Olivia’s brittle voice. “Are you there? Pick up!”

“Hi, Olivia—what’s up?”

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“Those two faggots I was taking out to dinner just walked out on me—that’s what’s up.”

“You told them about the Hastings woman being on your show, right?”

“They had the nerve to tell me who I should and should not have on my show—
my
show,” Olivia seethed.

“Well…they are pretty close to all of this…”

“Don’t you dare side with them, Brenda.”

“I’m not siding with them…”

“I’m not going to be told by anyone—and I mean
anyone
who I can or cannot have on my show. Those two fags are ‘oh so worried’ about the ‘oh so fragile’ psyches of their dear friends, Emily and Anthony. Those kids might just be thanking me for this after their mother is on the show…”

“I think that’s a bit of a stretch, Olivia…”

“
Brenda
…” She could almost hear Olivia grind her teeth as she spoke her name. “Are you on my side or not? Because if you’re not, you better start looking for someone else to live off of.”

“
Live
off of?” Brenda could not hide the anger in her voice. “I’m your manager, for God’s sake—and I earn every damned nickel I get paid. Don’t even try to sell me short, lady—because I won’t stand for it. You were nothing before me and with what I know, you’d be nothing again.”

There was a deafening silence on the line for a long moment. Then Olivia’s voice, flat and deadly, hissed; “Are you really threatening me, Brenda? This can go both ways, you know. What I know about you could send you to fuckin’ jail!

How’d you like that, Brenda honey? In there with all those dykes? Come to think if it though…” Olivia sniggered. “…You just might like that.”

“Stop it Olivia,” Brenda said, shaken by the other woman’s tone. “This is no time for us to fall out.” She decided to tell Olivia of her recent conversation.

Why should she be the only one to sweat this one? “Brad was just on the phone—he wants to see you.”

“You must be joking,” Olivia raged. “Tell him to go to hell.”

“I told him that—but he’s threatening to go to the tabloids with what he knows if he doesn’t get to see you.”

“Damn him—just pay him off, Brenda.”

“He wants more than that…he wants back in…to be part of the team again.

That’s what he said.”

“I cannot believe this.” Olivia sounded like she was going to lose it at any moment, and Brenda felt a vicious thrill of victory, knowing that she had pen-etrated Olivia’s hard, egotistical shell with this bit of news.

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“He sounded really serious,” Brenda said, turning the knife just a little. “I think we may have to pay attention.”

“Brenda, we have to find a way out of this. The son-of-a-bitch called me the other night. We have to shut him up somehow. I can’t let him back into my life…I can’t! Think of something…You know I’ve always relied on you to look after things.”

Brenda had to fight to keep the triumph out of her voice as she replied;

“Don’t worry, Olivia, I’ll take care of it.”

Patricia Hastings glared at the young man who sat in the chair opposite her in the green room of the television studio. He had introduced himself as Greg Mathis, Miss Brenda Shapiro’s assistant, and had been instructed to go over the list of topics that might be discussed during her interview with Olivia.

“So, Patricia…” he began, then halted as he saw the look of outrage on the woman’s face.

“Young man, your over-familiarity is not to my liking. You will address me as Mrs. Hastings.” Patricia looked away from Greg’s reddening face with distaste.

“I do beg your pardon,
Mrs. Hastings
,” Brenda’s assistant said, in a voice as cold as ice. If he’d hoped to embarrass her, however, he had just wasted his time. The woman looked at him coolly and told him to continue with his ques-tionnaire.

“Why don’t you just look it over,
Mrs. Hastings
?” Greg handed her the list, which Patricia immediately threw back at him.

“I am not in the least interested in your list,” she said, looking through him.

“I know very well what the topic will be and who will be conducting the interview. You are of no consequence.”

Greg gaped at her, his mouth open. Then he rose quickly and left the room.

“Good luck in there,” he muttered to Brenda and Olivia as they passed him on the way to the green room. “That woman is a prize
c-u-n-t
!”

“Yeah, we know, Greg.” Brenda patted his shoulder. “Go lie down till you’re over it.”

Olivia and she both giggled at Greg’s huffy expression. “Oh, this is going to be a doozy of an interview,” Brenda said. “I hope you know what you’re doing, my girl.”

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“I can handle her, don’t worry.” Olivia pushed open the green room door and sashayed in, her face wearing the big, fixed smile she used on all her guests.

Patricia rose from her chair but did not return Olivia’s smile. She stood, hands clasped in front of her, her body language saying—‘Don’t even try a hand-shake’.

“Mrs. Hastings…May I call you Patricia?” Olivia gushed.

“No, you may not,” Patricia replied with a sneer. “I have just had to repri-mand your lackey for his bad manners…”

“Suit yourself,” Olivia snapped, the smile disappearing from her face. “So, you ready for this? Got all your answers well rehearsed, have you?”

“Miss Winters…” Patricia’s lips were set in a tight, hard line of displeasure.

“This may be some form of charade to you, but I can assure you that everything you hear from me will be nothing but the absolute truth. You may want to play games with my beliefs, but you will see that I am nothing but sincere in all I say and do.”

“Well, we can’t ask for anything more than that, now can we?” Brenda remarked, turning to Olivia and rolling her eyes. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

The two women stepped aside to let Patricia precede them to the sound stage. It had been decided that because of the seriousness of the proposed discussion there would be no amusing monologue from the show’s star. The audience consisted mostly of studio staff and their families. The network had told Olivia that if the interview did not come off well, they would not air it.

Although she was not happy with that decision, Olivia felt pretty certain that, with a certain amount of editing, the interview would be great television and would indeed become the topic picked for discussion on the major news networks.

As she walked toward the podium where she was to address the audience, Olivia had to admit to herself that she felt apprehensive as to how this would go. The Hastings woman was unknown territory for her—and Olivia was astute enough to know that behind that icy exterior, Patricia Hastings temperament was like a coiled spring, ready to unwind in a flash at the least provoca-tion.

After a very brief warm-up, Olivia reminded the audience of the interview she had previously done with Anthony and Emily. “You may remember,” she said in a subdued voice, “that those young people were extremely critical of their mother’s role in the years they suffered from their father’s abusive ten-dencies—Emily more-so than Anthony. That young man was still trying to
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reach out to his mother for acceptance. Well, as we all know there are always two sides to a story, so I have invited Mrs. Hastings here today to tell us in her own words why she has disowned her children, and if she sees the future holding any chance of reconciliation. Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Patricia Hastings.”

To a smattering of applause, Patricia made her unsmiling way to the seat Olivia indicated for her. Olivia had wisely not offered her hand in greeting, figuring Patricia would ignore it. As it was, Patricia sat in stony silence, staring at Olivia with undisguised contempt.

“So, Mrs. Hastings,” Olivia began. “How are you today?”

“I am well, thank you…” Patricia continued to stare at Olivia. “However I don’t think we are here to exchange pleasantries, now are we?”

Olivia grinned at the audience. “Okaaay…I can see this is going to go well.”

The audience reacted with some nervous laughter.

“Miss Winters,” Patricia said with a sneer. “Please do not try to inject humor into these proceedings. There is nothing amusing about what has been happening in my life for the past eighteen years. I came here today with your promise that I would be allowed to show the people—or should I say, those God-fearing people who seek the truth—just how vile and indiscriminately treacherous my two daughters have been.”

There was a collective gasp from the audience members and one woman yelled “Shame!”

Olivia held up her hand. “That’s okay, folks. Mrs. Hastings is quite right. I did indeed tell her we would listen to her side of the story. So, go on Mrs. Hastings, tell us how you perceived all of this.”

“It is not how I
perceived
what happened, Miss Winters. It is, as I shall recount for you now, the absolute truth.”

“Go right ahead,” Olivia murmured, sitting back in her chair. This woman is going to hang herself in front of everyone, she thought with a malicious shiver. You go, girl!

“I think it was Paula, my eldest child, who first came to me with these absurd allegations of her father’s—shall we say—more than paternal interest in her. I was horrified of course and approached my husband on the matter. He vehemently denied any such aberration…”

“And you believed him?” Olivia asked.

“Of course I believed him. Charles was a loving and doting father. He loved his daughters—but in the purest way. However, Emily—the one you interviewed on this show and who lied her way through the entire thing—she and
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her sister concocted the story of how their father had abused both of them.

They even told their brother Anthony. They lied to him too, and he, being the compassionate soul he was, believed them and came to me with tears in his eyes and asked me to save them. I told him that they were imagining all of this—dreaming of it perhaps, but that none of it ever happened.”

“Both of your daughters were having the same dreams?”

“Of course not. They were telling the same
lies
.”

“So, in all the time that this alleged abuse was going on, you never saw any sign of it?”

“Oh, I saw lots of things going on. I was witness to lots of heinous things being hatched by those nasty little girls. Whispering in corners, refusing to eat their meals, being sent home from school because of inattentiveness. They were always tired—
tired
. Young girls should have endless energy, but these two were listless and, I may say, extremely irritating.”