Naked in LA (13 page)

Shel Lachter put on a pair of owlish spectacles and looked me up and down. “Well don’t just stand there with your mouth open, sweetheart, come on in.”

I almost changed my mind about the whole thing. If that towel drops, I thought, I’ll kick him in the
cojones
and run.

“So you’re the girl he was talking about. I see what Reyes meant.”

Another man trailed through the hall from the swimming pool out back, trailing wet footprints on the marble. He took a cigarette from a silver box on the antique hall table and put it in an ivory holder. He gave me a look of utter distaste. “Shel, you said you weren’t going to work today.”

“I won’t be long, munchkin. Pour me a drink, I’ll be straight out. This is the girl Reyes was telling us about. What do you think?”

“Tits are too small,” he said, lit his cigarette and went back to the pool.

“Don’t mind him,” Shel said. “It’s his time of the month.”

Now I knew what Reyes meant:
you can try if that’s what you want.

“Do you drink?”

“Just water for now.”

“No, I don’t mean do you want a drink, I said,
do
you drink. Do you have a problem with alcohol?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you take drugs?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a promising start.” He went to the table, picked up a pile of scripts and chose one. He rifled through it, found the page he was looking for and held it out to me.

It was Maggie’s monologue from
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
:
“You know, Brick. You know what’s wrong with us...?”

“Read.”

“Here?”

“I know it’s not Broadway, dear heart, but it will have to do for now.”

I knew the speech, I loved the play--I’d read it through half a dozen times. But my mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. Lachter waited, one hand on his hip.

I cleared my throat and I started reading. I’d only read five lines when he stopped me. “That’s enough,” he said, and he went back to the table and found a pad and a pen.

I thought that was it, it was my big chance and I’d blown it.

He wrote something on the pad, tore off the slip of paper and handed it to me. “There you are, sweetheart, see you Wednesday.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s the address of the studios in Culver City. Ever been there?”

I shook my head, numb.

“Tell the guard at the gate you have a screen test with Mister Lachter and he’ll let you through. Two thirty. Don’t be late.”

“I passed the audition?”

“Look, I owe your friend Mister Garcia a favour, so there was never really much of a doubt.”

“But...do you think I’m any good?”

“Any good?” He stared at me and laughed. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, to me.” I gave him the script but he handed it straight back. “Keep it, I want you to learn that monologue for the screen test.” He took my arm and led me to the door. “Have you ever seen Laurence Olivier on screen, sweetheart? He may be a living god in the theatre, but on film I could get more out of one of the tea boys. You’re not going to ruin the picture with half a dozen lines, and if the camera likes you, who knows? Look at Monroe.” He opened the door and propelled me outside. “Screen test Wednesday, sweetheart, don’t be late.”

It was over so fast I thought I must have imagined it.

But that Wednesday I took another cab out to the 20th Century Fox lot at Culver City and found myself on the set of the new Dean Martin and Cyd Charisse movie,
Something’s Got to Give
. I read the same monologue again, this time the whole way through. I gave it everything I had.

“
... we may be gettin” by now, but you can be young with money. But you can’t be old without it! We can’t be old without it!

I was on my knees and there were tears in my eyes when I’d done. I waited for applause from the crew--even just one word of encouragement would have been something. Nothing. Shel and his assistant were staring into the viewfinder.

Finally Shel looked up. “The camera loves you,” he said.

“Do I have the part?”

“Filming starts in two weeks. Don’t get too excited, we’ll probably only need you for a day. I’ll send the contract to your agent.”

“I don’t have an agent.”

“All right, I’ll give it to Reyes, he’ll sort out the rest. And word to the wise, try to think of a new name.”

“What’s wrong with my name?”

“Are you kidding me? Magdalena Fuentes? No one will be able to pronounce it, never mind remember it. Magdalena is Spanish, yes? Anglicize it, you want my advice. Use Madeleine. And you need something catchy, like Marilyn Monroe. What about Madeleine Montes?”

I walked out in a daze. I wasn’t a star yet, I didn’t even have more than two lines. But I was no longer a failed princess working in a diner. I finally had a life of my own, even though it was in some other girl’s name.

Chapter 19 

He was sitting outside the diner in his Roadster, reading the
Los Angeles Times
. He waved to me as I came out, leaned over and held open the door.

“I didn’t know if I’d see you again,” I said as I got in.

“You’ll always see me again.” He jumped behind the wheel. “They tell me the audition went well.”

“It wasn’t a stretch. He wanted to know if I had two arms and legs and if I could speak English. What is this movie anyway?”

“It’s called
A Hot Day in Winter
. Wilder’s going to direct it, it’s a vehicle for Monroe to reprise her
Some Like It Hot
role and for Frank to sing a couple of numbers that Sammy Cahn wrote for him. So, you think you can pull it off?”

“I have three lines and I have to wiggle my ass a lot. I think I can do it.”

“That’s how Monroe started.”

I settled back in the seat and closed my eyes. I had been prepared for a fifty-minute ride home on the bus. This was luxury.

“What was the favour?”

“What favour?”

“Lachter said I got the part because he owed you a favour.”

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.”

“This is going to be one of the biggest movies of the year, Reyes and I got a screen test because I didn’t have a serious drug problem. Is that so hard?”

“Well this is Los Angeles.”

“What did you do, help him beat a murder rap?”

We passed the hardware stores and five and dimes on Rodeo Drive. I turned to stare at a blonde goddess riding her palomino down the gravel bridle path in the middle of the road. Only in California.

“I just helped him make a problem go away.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Someone was blackmailing him.”

“Because he’s homosexual?”

“Exactly. I made the problem go away.”

“How?”

“Some guy had some photographs of him in unflattering poses with a young actor and had been trying to milk him for cash. I persuaded the guy to accept a more reasonable figure to disappear. I also put him on notice that if he ever thought to blackmail any of my friends again, I would terminate his photographic career with extreme prejudice.”

““Extreme prejudice?” Reyes, what kind of language is that?”

“Well, he seemed to understand. I look after my friends, princess.”

“Why are we taking the freeway?”

“I have to go to the airport.”

I stared at him. The wind was in his air and he looked as relaxed as if he was going on a month’s vacation, and gloriously handsome. I could not keep this man, I had to keep reminding myself
this guy is not your future
.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t say, princess.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, it depends how long my business takes.”

There were a dozen more questions that I could have asked but I knew I would get the same vague response so I let it slide.

“Can you drive?”

“It’s been a while, the last time was in Havana.”

“It’s a two speed automatic, it’s not that hard.”

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“I’m giving you the car. I’ll be...elsewhere...so I won’t need it.”

“That’s insane.”

“No, it makes sense. I also want you to get yourself a better place to live. You can’t live in a motel anymore, not now you’re going to be a movie star.”

“I’m a glorified extra. I got the job because some movie producer owes you a favour. Let’s not get carried away.”

“This is a town where impressions are very important. Believe me, you have to find someplace else to live.” He gave me a business card, a realtor in Santa Monica. “Give her a call. Tell her you’re a friend of mine.”

“Do you know everyone in the world?”

“Not yet but I’m working on it.”

“Any other orders you want to give me before you get on the plane?”

The irony was lost on him. He thought about it. “No, that just about covers it,” he said.

“So let me break this down: You’ve called in a favour to get me a small part in a movie, now you’re giving me your car to drive while you’re gone - and you don’t know for how long - and you want me to get another apartment. Is that it?”

“You got a problem with that?”

I didn’t smile back. “This is just like Angel.”

“Only Angel did it so he could sleep with you. Me, I haven’t even decided if I want to.”

“Sure you do,” I said, baiting him.

“Don’t get me wrong. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my whole life, but love is dangerous, princess. So no, I’m not sure if I want to sleep with you. There’s a lot of women easier than Magdalena Fuentes for a guy like me.”

“So what is this about?”

“It’s about you taking good care of my car,” he said. “I just got you a screen test in a big picture. You owe me a favour.”

When we got to the airport, he parked the Roadster in front of departures and tossed me the car keys. Then he walked around the car, opened the door, and took my hand to help me out. He pulled me towards him and kissed me. It wasn’t decorous, he squeezed the life out of me and the kiss went on and on and nearly took my breath away. I’d only ever been kissed like that once before and that was in Havana, and that was by him, the night he’d saved me from Batista’s secret police.

He finally pulled away and took my face in his hands. “Don’t dent the car.”

“Reyes, I’ve never stopped thinking about you, every day for four years.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“I mean it. One day I’ll prove it to you.”

“Will you?”

“You will come back in one piece?”

“I always have before.”

He turned away, took two bags from the back seat and headed towards the terminal. He stopped and looked back. “Be good,” he said. “I’ll be back in time for Christmas.”

And then he was gone.

Chapter 20