Lovers and Gamblers (51 page)

Who was right?

They had both made a mistake. Cody was a really nice guy. He deserved more than Dallas was prepared to offer him.

And Dallas – well, she was very special. She needed a strong macho man who would control and look after her and at the same time be father, brother, lover to her. All the men she had missed out on.

Linda wondered if such a man existed. If he did she wouldn’t mind grabbing him for herself!

* * *

‘Al King!’ Doris Andrews clutched him by the hand, and memories of a dozen movies flitted through his head. He had grown up with Doris Andrews, along with Tony Curtis, Rock Hudson, Janet Leigh… He felt like he knew them all. It was just like meeting an old friend.

‘Hello, Doris,’ he said, kissing her warmly on both cheeks. He had never wanted to fuck Doris Andrews. Janet Leigh yes – but Doris had always been the big sister type. ‘I’ve wanted to meet you for years,’ he continued, treading carefully because he knew how pissed off
he
got when a well-meaning fan said, ‘I love you, I’ve always loved you – ever since I was a little girl.’ And it was usually some middle-aged hag who looked ten years older than him. Of course Doris probably wasn’t
that
much older than him – seven or eight years top whack – which would make her forty-six or seven. She looked in very good nick.

‘It’s
my
pleasure, Mr. King. I’m so glad you’re letting us have this little party for you tonight. I only hope I’ve managed to include everyone you would enjoy meeting.’

Janet Leigh? What a kick to meet her. He looked around, recognizing several world-famous faces. And they had come out to honour
him
. Dressed up in their best glad rags to see
him.

He nudged Paul. ‘Not bad, huh?’

‘Where? asked Paul, immediately assuming that Al had seen a girl he fancied. Al’s abstinence was beginning to worry him.

‘The turn-out, schmuck! Just look around.’

Doris was summoning a waiter. ‘What will you have to drink, Mr. King?’

‘Call me Al, and I’ll call you Doris.’

She gave him the famous twinkling perennial virgin smile. ‘Lovely! Now – who would you like to meet?’

* * *

The boy who took the car said, ‘You’re late, ladies.’ He was about nineteen, with a Ryan O’Neal face and a Burt Reynolds body.

Dallas ignored him. Linda smiled. He smiled back.

‘Hey… How about…’

Dallas dragged Linda inside before he could finish.

‘Not bad!’ Linda exclaimed.

‘They’re hanging off the trees in this town,’ Dallas drawled laconically. ‘Every good-looking stud in America gravitates to LA all ready to become a movie star. Didn’t you ever listen to the words of “San Jose”?’

‘I knew there was a reason I came here!’ Linda said. ‘Prime Californian cock!’

‘Linda! You’re really disgusting.’

‘What’s disgusting about it? Why shouldn’t I be honest? I’m not out to murder anyone – I just want to get nicely laid – by young randy studs. Ain’t nothing wrong with
that
.’

Dallas laughed. ‘You’re incorrigible! It’s lucky you never saw Julio.’

‘Who’s Julio?’

‘Diamond’s boyfriend. Remember? The male hooker.’

‘You
saw
him?’

‘Nothing happened. I made an appointment and backed out.’

‘You would. What was he like?’

‘I don’t think I’d better tell you.’

Linda licked her lips. ‘That good?’

‘That good. Even
I
thought so. Hey – come on – we’d better go in. We can’t stand in the hall all night – Doris is going to be furious as it is.’

* * *

The entire pool area was tented, pink and white candy-striped awnings with fairy lights hanging in little clusters.

Tables surrounded the pool covered in plain pink cloths. Silver and fine glassware glinted at each place setting. There were ten tables seating twelve people per table.

Al was at a table with Doris Andrews on one side of him and Mrs. Harmon Lewis on the other. Mrs. Harmon Lewis was extremely rich, extremely ugly, and extremely powerful. She was head of one of the largest talent agencies on the coast. She had been married to Harmon Lewis – the famous four-foot-ten-inch cowboy star of the forties. Since his early demise at the age of thirty – falling off a box while making cinematograph love to a five-foot-eleven-inch Swedish star – Mrs. Lewis had been enamoured by very short men. She herself was a healthy five foot four inches – but she seemed to get her kicks from wearing the highest possible heels and the shortest possible men. She had managed to propel to fame a five-foot-one-inch matinée idol, and a five-foot-nothing comedian. ‘There’ll never be another Harmon!’ was her constant lament. But it did not stop her from looking.

Al, of course, was much too tall to ignite even the smallest flicker of her interest. But he was the star guest, and everyone knew Mrs. Harmon Lewis insisted on being seated next to the star guest.

Al, trapped between the two women, decided the time had come to break his boycott on liquor. Fuck it. He felt great, looked great, what harm would it do to go back on the booze? Nellie’s death had hit much harder than anyone cared to see. The whole Tucson scene had frightened the shit out of him. Losing control was not his bag. So he had stopped drinking just to prove that he could – and he could – any time he wanted.

He reached for the wine.

Doris – the perfect hostess – immediately gestured for a waiter.

‘Changing your mind?’ she inquired.

He laughed. Earlier he had told her he didn’t drink. ‘Why not? That’s what minds are for, isn’t it?’

* * *

Dallas stood at the top of the steps leading to the patio, and gazed down at the beautifully laid-out tables, and the people eating and chatting.

Linda, a step behind her, muttered, ‘Talk about making a late entrance…’

‘The only kind,’ Dallas murmured.

And she was right, because one by one every pair of eyes stopped to look at them, until a hush hung over the gathering – only a momentary hush – but it was enough to make an impact.

Doris came trotting up the stairs. ‘You naughty girl!’ she hissed. ‘You’re so late. I had nearly given up on you!’

‘I’m sorry. Car broke down. Doris, I’d like you to meet my friend, Linda.’

‘Hmmm,’ absently Doris shook her by the hand. She was more concerned about her placement. ‘I’ve had to move you around. I couldn’t leave Aarron with two empty seats beside him. I’ve put your friend at Lew’s table.’

‘That’s all right,’ Dallas said.

Doris replied somewhat huffily, ‘I should hope so. Come, let’s sit down.’

* * *

Seeing Dallas was like getting an electric charge. Al had forgotten quite how beautiful she actually was. The sensual face framed by the streaked mass of hair. The body in the clinging white dress, with quite obviously nothing underneath. Every man in the place was staring at her.

Al went to stand up as she passed, but stopped himself in time. Let her come to him.

But she didn’t. She glided past and sat down at the next table. She did not appear to even notice him.

As luck would have it they were seated almost back to back.

He swivelled round and tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t you say hello any more?’

She turned and stared at him with her incredible green eyes. ‘Hello.’

Doris came back to the table, squeezing between them. Dallas turned her attention back to Aarron Mack, who was toasting her with champagne.

Her thoughts were not on Aarron. They were on Al. It was like chemistry. She was drawn to him like a magnet. As soon as she saw him strange things happened. Things that she could hardly control. Her head felt light, her skin flushed, her stomach knotted into a sort of sick feeling. What the hell was it about him?

Aarron said, ‘You look beautiful, beautiful. I toast your beauty.’

She lifted her glass and clinked it together with his before swallowing the champagne down.

Behind her she was only too aware of the fact that Al was only inches away.

Lew Margolis was talking business. He did not acknowledge his wife’s introduction of Linda as she sat her down at his table.

Linda didn’t mind. But she wondered if
he
would mind if he knew it was
she
who had taken the pictures Dallas had shown him. How different he seemed from the man beside Dallas’s pool that night. How tempting it would be to say, ‘Excuse me, Mr. Margolis, but I have seen you in action. Uncensored action!’

The fact that he was talking business with Paul – who hadn’t even seen her – did not help matters. She looked around the table. Strangers. Famous strangers. No one was taking the least bit of notice of her.

On one side she recognized a television star of a cop series. On the other a fag screenwriter. They were both engaged in conversations on
their
other sides. Charming! How to be really, really popular! Was there something her best friends had failed to tell her?

She tapped the TV star firmly on the shoulder. She couldn’t let Paul see her just sitting there. ‘Hi, I’m Linda Cosmo. I was wondering if I might do a photo lay-out on you? I’m out here from New York sort of scouting interesting stories. You may have seen my Al King cover on
People
a few weeks back.’

The TV star had been about to give her a brush. After all, at a party like this who was she? But the words ‘photo lay-out’ and ‘
People
cover’ changed all that.

‘Yeah—’ he said enthusiastically, ‘I was wondering why they hadn’t gotten around to me yet. Yeah – I’d like that. When do you want to do it?’

Linda smiled. Mention publicity to an actor and you were away and running. Pity his reputation as a closet queen went before him.

* * *

Dallas could not force one morsel of food down her throat.

Aarron said, ‘Are you not feeling good?’

‘I’m feeling fine, I’m just not very hungry.’

Aarron summoned the waiter. ‘More champagne at this table.’

Dallas drained her glass. Goddamn it – the presence of Al King right behind her was turning her into a nervous drunk!

Aarron patted her on the leg. ‘It’s good to see you relax.’ His hand lingered just that moment too long.

She could not summon the strength to remove it.

‘When you come to New York for the launching I have something very serious I wish to discuss with you,’ Aarron said, ‘you must promise me you will give it your full consideration.’

She nodded. Why the hell had she come to this party anyway?

Turkish coffee was served, with wafer-thin imported peppermints for the ladies, and the best illegal Havana cigars for the men.

A small group of musicians started playing romantic Italian sounds. Room was cleared to make a dance floor.

Mrs. Harmon Lewis eyed the short bass player and said, ‘Doris gives the best parties in town!’

Al was busy receiving a stream of celebrities who were playing musical chairs – dodging back and forth between tables. He had made a discovery. The worst star fucks of all were the stars themselves! They were positively fighting for a few minutes at his table.
Him!
Al King. Ex-road digger. Ex-Janet Leigh-inspired wanker!

He should be flattered. But he found it funny. And all he really wanted to do was to grab hold of Dallas and get out of there.

* * *

‘When did you get here?’ asked Paul, in a tone of voice which clearly said, ‘What the hell are
you
doing here?’

‘Few days ago,’ smiled Linda. ‘Why?’

They were talking across the table which didn’t make things easy.

‘I tried to call you,’ Paul said. ‘You never called back.’

‘Shall we dance?’ the TV star suggested to her.

‘Love to,’ replied Linda. She shrugged slightly in Paul’s direction as if to dismiss his question.

He glared at her.

* * *

‘Excuse me,’ said Dallas, getting up from the table. She was dying to go to the bathroom. She made her way inside the house. The guest powder room was occupied.

She made her way upstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Margolis’s boudoir. Memories! Memories!

She walked into their bathroom. More memories!

The champagne was beginning to make itself felt. She was very lightheaded. She went to the john, brushed her hair, applied more lipgloss.

She didn’t hear the door open behind her, she didn’t realize anyone was in the room until the smell of
Joy
enveloped her, and Doris had her enclosed in a strong embrace – one hand cupping her left breast.

‘I love you, Dallas,’ she whispered, her little girl voice strained, ‘I love you.’

Dallas only felt revulsion. She tried to push her away, but Doris was strong and held on.

‘I’m not into women,’ protested Dallas.

‘Oh yes you are!’ insisted Doris, ‘I’m never wrong – never. Open your legs for me and you’ll never want another man.’

‘Leave me
alone
!’ snapped Dallas. ‘Just
leave me alone
. She shoved Doris off and rushed from the room.

Why didn’t anyone ever believe her?

* * *

‘If you can spare the time perhaps we can dance,’ said Paul coldly.

Linda was just sitting down after dancing with the TV star for the third time.

‘If you like,’ she said.

He got up and came round to her side of the table. ‘Having fun?’ he hissed.

She smiled coldly. ‘About as much fun as you and your wife have had for the past four weeks.’

‘My wife left shortly after you did.’

‘How shortly?’

‘A matter of days. Haven’t you read about what’s been going on?’

‘I was sorry to hear about Nellie.’

‘We all were.’

‘Including Al?’

‘It wasn’t his fault.’

‘Sure.’

‘There’s no need to use that sarcastic tone.’

‘Oh sorry. I wasn’t aware that I had to check with you about what tone I could use.’

‘Don’t let’s argue. I’ve missed you. Come on, let’s dance.’

* * *

Al watched Dallas walking back to her table. Mrs. Harmon Lewis was regaling an intimate item of scandal. He wasn’t listening. He couldn’t give a toss. He gripped Dallas’s wrist as she passed.