Naked in LA (22 page)

“What about Reyes?”

“Is that what this is all about? My God, you gave me a scare. I thought you’d had a sudden attack of Catholic morals.”

“I love him.”

“And I’m sure he loves you, wherever he is. When was the last time you heard from him? Do you even know where he is?”

I shook my head.

“And for this you’re going to give up the chance to be a star in this town?”

“Look what happened to Marilyn.”

“You’re not Marilyn, you’re not addled with drink and drugs.” My
mojito
arrived, and Ted pulled it across the table out of reach. “At least not yet. If you’re smart you can ride this wave for the next ten years and then marry the prince of Monaco or get yourself a Texas oilman and write a bestselling memoir. It’s all up to you. You’re not a blonde so don’t behave like one.”

Ted saw me hesitate. He leaned across the table.

“You don’t really think Reyes is alone right now, do you?”

I shook my head. He was right; I didn’t think that.

“Be smart, Madeleine. You’ve been working that perfect bottom off looking for your lucky break and this is it. You could be on the front cover of every magazine in the world. you could be as big as Novak or Natalie Wood. It’s JFK, dear heart. It’s not like you have to sleep with
Hoover.
”

“How do I look myself in the mirror?”

“You don’t have to. That’s why they employ make-up artists in this town. Didn’t you know that?”

When I got back to my apartment later that afternoon the telephone started ringing even before I took off my coat. It was Peter Lawford. He was sending a car for me at eight o’clock. Was that going to be a problem?

I said no, no problem at all.

Chapter 30

I watched the limousine pull into the driveway. The driver did not come to the door; he had probably been given his instructions from Lawford himself. He lit a cigarette and leaned on the hood and waited.

I touched Papi’s ring to my lips.
What am I going to do?
I thought. He had been dead a year by then but I can’t say that he didn’t answer me, because I heard his voice quite clearly: he said,
don’t do it
. He said that he understood about Angel, and that I was doing it for him, but that this was different, that I should remember that the man had a wife and children and that until now I had never done anything that would make him ashamed of me.

So yes, I asked him what I should do and he told me; I just didn’t want to listen. Instead, I thought about getting even with Reyes for leaving me and not telling me where he was going, and I thought about being Sinatra’s leading lady and being a star, the thing I had dreamed about in Havana and that no one had ever believed I could make happen.

I looked back out of the window. The driver was pacing up and down and looking at his wristwatch.

I smiled to myself. How many people could say they kept the President of the United States waiting? Twice I nearly kicked off my shoes and reached for the telephone; I was going to ring Lawford and tell him I’d changed my mind.

But I didn’t. Why? Because of vanity and because of greed and because of revenge, let’s call it for what it was. Finally I made up my mind.

“Forgive me, Papi,” I murmured as I walked out of the door, but I don’t know that he ever will.

The driver looked as if he was going to faint with relief. He nearly fell over his own feet in his hurry to open the back door of the car for me. I got in without a word. I was a movie star and the President’s mistress. I could behave however I wanted now.

Pat Lawford wasn’t there to meet and greet this time. A Secret Service man opened the door to the limousine and took me in the back way through the gardens. There were no dogs, no children playing on the beach.

Jack was standing by the floodlit pool, holding a martini. After the Secret Service guy had left us, he turned around and smiled at me. “Hello, kid,” he said. “How are you?”
Kid
. I realised he couldn’t remember my name.

“You been here before?”

Dios mio
, he didn’t even know who I was.

“No,” I said. “I never have.”

“It’s my sister’s place. Has great views.”

He was wearing a dressing gown; I guessed he had just been in the pool. His back brace lay on one of the pool chairs and he moved stiffly without it. It was canvas and ribbed with steel rods. I’d heard about his back problem from Reyes, it was why he wasn’t playing football with Peter and Bobby that afternoon on the beach.

“It’s a relief to get the damn thing off at the end of the day,” he said, catching me staring at it. “My valet has to practically winch it on every morning, pulling the straps loop by loop like that scene between Scarlett and Mamie in
Gone With the Wind
. Only I’m Scarlett.”

“No one would ever know,” I said.

“That’s called politics,” he said. “I tell people who ask me about it that I got it during the war, sometimes I say it was playing college football.”

“Was it?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just one of those things. Some days it’s agony, I can hardly move.” This was a different Kennedy than the one I’d seen at the table that night--his guard was down. “Some days it’s a little difficult, you have to shake a hands and be in a lot of places, I guess it’s like a football player playing through an injury. Sometimes you take one for the team. So, kid, are you in the movies?”

Chapter 31 

I didn’t ride back alone. One of his aides jumped in the back with me. He didn’t introduce himself. “You don’t mind if I ride in the back with you?” he said, as if I ever had a choice.

He sat facing me with his back to the driver. I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, he wore a dark suit and thick glasses, he could have been any one of a thousand men I’d seen in press pictures hovering around him. He made me put a scarf over my head as we drove out even though it was almost midnight.

I huddled into a corner of the limousine. I felt numb.

He settled back, clearly accustomed to these sorts of journeys and these sorts of conversations. “So,” he said, like he was interviewing me for a job. “I’ve been hearing good things about you. They say you could have a big career ahead of you.”

“Thanks.”

“Hollywood is very much an insider’s town. I guess you know that? Everyone helps everyone else. That’s the way things work.” When I didn’t answer, he added: “It’s good to have friends.”

I looked out of the window, stared at the moon scudding through the clouds.

“You know, it would be a shame if any of this gets out.”

“You mean if I spoke to the papers?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean. We don’t want any publicity for this kind of thing.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Sometimes people are tempted.”

“Don’t worry, Mister Whoever-You-Are. My lips are sealed.”

“He’s a great man and he is doing great things for this country. We don’t want to see him embarrassed in any way.”

“You’ve made your point, but I assure you I would be as embarrassed if this got out as he would be.”

“I’m glad you see it that way. You know, we could be of great help to you in your future career. I believe you have a very important audition next week.”

“Sinatra wants a new leading lady. He’s going to sing
That’s Why the Lady is a Tramp
just for me. All I have to do is stand there.”

There was an awkward moment. Whoever he was, he didn’t understand irony. He shifted about and cleared his throat. “I’ll make some calls,” he said. “If Frank knows the President prefers you for the role, I’m sure there’ll be no problem.”

I didn’t say anything more and neither did he. We rode the rest of the way in silence. Just as well, I could barely hear him anyway over the sound of Papi yelling at me.

The first time I walked in to Delhane and Associates I had been expecting something straight out of
The Maltese Falcon
; instead of paper cups full of bourbon and a blowsy blonde sitting behind a walnut veneer desk. There was wall-to-wall carpet and a reception desk with a smart chrome-plated sign on the wall behind it. There were even copies of
Time
and
Newsweek
in the waiting room.

Delhane himself didn’t look like a private detective; he looked like a harried and overworked accountant. He was bald and wore horn-rimmed glasses and he certainly didn’t know how to knot a tie. He had his secretary bring me coffee, and then he opened a file and reviewed my case like he was looking through my previous year’s tax return.

There were a lot of manila files like mine all over his desk. I supposed a man in his line of work was never short of customers, not in this town. I often wondered why movie people ever bothered to get married at all.

What was I thinking when I came to him? The simple answer was that I wasn’t thinking at all, I was just angry, and that’s the worst frame of mind to make any decision.