The Love Machine (30 page)

She sat in the darkness oblivious to the polite laughter of the audience, as the new idea took hold and grew. Why should she give Chris the air? Sleeping with him was one thing—but to be Mrs. Christie Lane! The enormity of the idea was overwhelming. Of course it would be a long hard pull. She’d have to plant the idea gradually. Then she could tell them all to fuck off. Dan—Robin—the whole world.
Mrs
. Christie Lane! Mrs. TV Star! Mrs.
Power!

It was three in the morning when they reached the Astor. Chris had offered to drop her at her own apartment. “I have to be at rehearsal at eleven tomorrow, doll.”

“Let me come and just sleep with you. We don’t have to have sex, I want to be with you, Chris.”

His homely face broke into a smile. “Sure, doll. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in your own place, changing and all. because you got to be at rehearsal tomorrow too.”

“That’s just it-I don’t.”

He turned to her in the darkened cab. “Come again?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re upstairs.”

She undressed silently and slipped into bed with him. He was looking at the racing form. His stomach was billowing over his shorts, a cigar was clamped between his teeth. He motioned to
the twin bed. “Sleep in there, doll. No humping tonight.”

“I just want to cling to you, Chris.” She put her arms around his flabby body.

He looked at her. “Say, you’re acting funny. What’s up?”

She burst into tears. She was surprised how easily they came. She was thinking of the humiliation Robin Stone had caused her, and the tears grew into full-fledged sobs.

“Doll—for Chrissakes what’s the matter? Did I do something? Tell me.”

“Oh no, Chris, it’s just that this is our last night together.” She sobbed in earnest now. She was sobbing for all the rejections, all the men she had loved for just one night, all the love she had never had.

“What in hell are you talking about?” He put his arms around her and clumsily tried to pat her head. God, she even hated the smell of him, cheap shaving cologne and sweat, but she managed to think of Robin on the dance floor. She thought of the German girl who was probably in his arms, and her sobs increased in volume.

“Doll, tell me, I can’t stand to see you like this. You’re the strongest girl in the world. I was telling that to Kenny the other day. I said, ‘That Ethel-she’d kill for me.’ What’s this shit about this being our last night together?”

She looked at him with the tears running down her face. “Chris, how do you feel about me?”

He rubbed her hair and gazed into space thoughtfully. “I dunno, doll, I never give it much thought. I like you. We have a ball together. You’re a good sport—”

She started to sob again. This pig—he was rejecting her too!

“Now, doll, I mean look—I wouldn’t let myself fall in love. Once is enough. But there’s no other girl. You’re with me as long as you want to be. Like Kenny and Eddie. So what’s all this talk about our last night?”

She turned away and stared straight ahead of her. “Chris, you know about my past.”

The color came to his face.

“That’s just it,” she sobbed. “But that’s not the real me. What you know
now
is the real me. You’re afraid of getting hurt because
of Amanda—well, it happened to me. A boy in college, we were engaged. I was a virgin, and he walked out on me. I was so hurt, I decided to screw every man in the world, just to get even with him. I hated him, I hated life, I hated myself. Until you came along—then it was as if I was purged. I met a fine human being, I really cared. I began to like myself, and the real Ethel Evans emerged. All the past was a put-on. What I’ve been to you is really what I am.”

“I understand, doll, and I’m even beginning to forget about your past. So what’s the big deal? Am I asking questions?”

“No, but, Chris—before you came along, I—I went with Dan-ton Miller.”

He sat up straight. “Oh shit, him too! Didn’t you miss anyone?”

“Chris, Dan really dug me. He got jealous of everyone I went with. He put me on your show so he could keep an eye on me. He was livid when Jerry arranged for us to date. But he figured it would be a one-night stand. He had no idea I’d really fall in love with you. Now he’s jealous.”

“Fuck him!”

“That’s just what he wants.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, he called me today, and told me he didn’t want me to see you anymore. That he wants me to hold myself free just for him. I told him to go fuck himself and he said I’m to give you the air tonight. I’m not to go near your show—if I do, he’ll have me fired from IBC. If I give you the air, I can stay. He’ll even get me other shows with more money. But I can’t do it, Chris—I can’t live without you.”

“I’ll talk to Dan tomorrow.”

“He’ll deny it, and you’ll have an enemy. He says he made you and he can break you.”

Christie’s jaw tightened. Ethel realized she had made a wrong move. Chris was still insecure. Dammit, he was afraid of Dan Miller.

“He can’t touch you, Chris—you’re the greatest. But he can get rid of me. It seems I wrote a lot of silly letters to a girl I thought was my friend—about some of my romances. Dan has copies of the letters.”

“You know, some dames have a big mouth, but you got a big typewriter. Why in fuck did you ever write letters? You can hurt the guys too.”

“I know, and maybe God is punishing me. But how did I know Yvonne would have copies made? Why doesn’t God pay
her
back? I wrote them on the spur of the moment, as a joke. But that’s all past. My problem is now.”

“Okay, so you quit the show,” Chris said.

“Then what?”

“You could get another job—CBS, NBC, any of the networks.”

“No, Dan would blackball me. I’m finished.”

“I’ll get you a job, and right now.”

“Chris, it’s three thirty.”

“Who gives a shit!” He picked up the phone and asked for a number. After a few rings, Ethel heard a sleep-filled voice answer. “Herbie? Chris Lane. I know it’s late, but look, sweetheart, I’m a man who acts on impulse. It seems to me the other day at the track you said you’d give anything just for the prestige of having your office handle my public relations. Well, I just might give you the chance. Starting tomorrow.”

Herbie’s staccato voice rattled through the phone. He was elated. He’d do a hell of a job. He’d be at rehearsal at eleven.

“Hold it, Herbie. There’s a few stipulations that go with the deal. I’ll pay three bills a week—I don’t care what the going rate is. You got a crummy office on Broadway with some borscht comics and a few dance teams. But if you got Christie Lane, you’re in the big leagues. And I may be able to throw some work to your cockamamie clients. Only there’s a deal goes with it: you got to hire Ethel Evans. Sure she’s with IBC, but I want her to quit and just work for me. Only
you
pay her. How much—a C a week? He looked at Ethel. She shook her head frantically. “That’s chickenshit, Herbie, one twenty-five?” She shook her head again. “Wait a minute, Herbie.” He turned to Ethel. “What do you want—opera?”

“I get a base pay of one fifty at IBC, twenty-five extra for doing your show—that’s one seventy-five.”

“Herbie, one seventy-five and it’s a deal. So it only leaves you one and a quarter, but look at the prestige, baby. Well, I see your
point, okay, one fifty.” He ignored the elbow Ethel jabbed into him. “Sure, Herbie, she’ll be at your office at ten tomorrow.”

“You mean with all your big pull, I’m taking a cut?” she asked.

“The man is right, you can’t make more than he makes out of the deal. Now relax. At IBC you have to work on a lot of shows. With Herbie it’s just me, and you can live on one fifty.”

Ethel was furious. She knew Herbie … he’d make her punch a time clock and the hours would be murder. Her job at IBC had prestige. Herbie ran a shlock outfit. Everything was all botched up, but she was stuck now.

“Chris, I’ve signed my death notice, you know that.”

“Why? I just got you a new job.”

“At IBC I had fringe benefits—hospitalization, nice clean air-conditioned offices.”

“So you got me. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She snuggled close to him. “You know that. I gave up IBC for you—I could have stayed, done other shows. But I gave it up to work for Herbie Shine. But what are you doing for me?”

“Are you crazy? Didn’t I just get you a job?”

“I want to be your girl.”

“Christ, everyone knows it.”

“I mean officially—can’t we at least say we’re engaged?”

He put down the racing form. “Forget it! I’m not marrying you, Ethel. If and when I get married, I want a decent girl. I want kids. Your cooze is like the Lincoln Tunnel, everyone’s been through it.

“And I suppose Amanda was a decent girl …”

“She was a bum, but I thought she was decent. At least I know about you.”

“And you don’t think a girl can change?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” He picked up the racing form.

“Chris, just give me a chance—please!”

“Am I throwing you outa bed? You’re with me—wherever we go—aren’t you?”

She threw her arms around him. “Oh, Chris, I don’t just love you, I worship you. You’re my God, my Lord, my king. You’re my life!”

She crawled down to the bottom of the bed and began running her tongue along his toes. It nauseated her, but she tried to pretend he was one of the movie stars she had adored.

He started to laugh. “Hey, that feels good. I never had nothing like that.”

“Lie down. I want to make love to every part of you. To show you how I worship and adore you. I always will—no matter what you do. I’ll always love you. I love you so much. …” She began moaning and making love to him. Later when he lay back panting and wet with perspiration he said, “But, doll, that’s not right. I came like crazy. Jesus—right down to my toes. But nothing happened with you.”

“Are you mad?” she said. “I came twice, just making love to you.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Chris, don’t you understand? I love you. You excite me, I come just when I touch you.”

He put his arm around her and rubbed her hair. “Well, how about that! You’re sure a crazy dame, but I like it.” He belched loudly and he picked up the racing form.

“Hey, it’s after four and I got to do my homework. You better get in the other bed and go to sleep. You got to get up early and give Dan your notice and go to Herbie’s office. Go to sleep, doll.”

She went into the other bed and turned her back on him. She gritted her teeth and said, “I love you, Chris.”

He got out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. On the way he patted her buttocks. “I love you too, doll. Only don’t forget, I’m—I’m forty-two, and I got a big career that got started late in life. And that’s all that counts to me.” Then leaving the door open, he sat on the toilet and had an explosive bowel movement. She threw the covers over her head. The pig! And she had to crawl to him! But she’d get even. She’d marry him! If it was the last thing she did—then she’d tell everyone to fuck off. Especially him!

Ethel ripped the copy from the typewriter and flung it on Herbie Shine’s desk. She stood there, her eyes narrowed, as the
small compact balding little man read it carefully.

“It’s okay,” he said slowly. “But you don’t give the address of the restaurant.”

“Herbie, it’s a general release for the columns. Either the name ‘Lario’s’ catches, or forget it. No column prints the address.”

“But this joint is off the beaten track. We got to make people aware of it.”

“If they’d spring for an opening party and have some celebrities and all the columnists, they’d make every paper. But they’re like all your accounts—too cheap to do things right.”

“On that you’re right, especially my jumbo account, Mr. Christie Lane. He’s the cheapest of them all. Lario’s is a small place. They can’t afford to go for all that free booze and food for a party. But better make some of those IBC people go there, also Christie Lane.”

“Look. Chris is paying you on his own. He hated that last restaurant you handled, the one on Twelfth Street you made me drag him to—cost him three bucks in cab fare each way. I didn’t hear the end of it for days.”

“He also stiffed the waiters,” Herbie said.

“Chris figures when he’s on the cuff it’s all the way.”

“Anyone knows you still take care of a captain and a waiter.”

“Not Chris.”

“Well, why don’t you tell him!”

“I’m not running an Emily Post course.” She put her coat on.

“It’s only four o’clock. What kind of banker’s hours do you think you’re keeping around here? You didn’t come in till ten fifteen this morning.”