Sidney Sheldon - A Stranger in the Mirror

“Right,” Toby said. “Thanks, Cliff.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Clifton Lawrence said casually. He pulled a small package from his pocket and handed it to Toby.

Inside was a pair of beautiful diamond cufflinks. They were in the shape of a star.

Whenever Toby had some free time, he relaxed around the large swimming pool at the back of the hotel. There were twenty-five girls in the show and there were always a dozen or so from the chorus line in bathing suits, sunning themselves. They appeared in the hot noon air like late-blooming flowers, one more beautiful than the next. Toby had never had trouble getting girls, but what happened to him now was a totally new experience. The showgirls had never heard of Toby Temple before, but his name was up in lights on the marquee. That was enough. He was a Star , and they fought each other for the privilege of going to bed with him.

The next two weeks were marvelous for Toby. He would wake up around noon, have breakfast in the dining room where he was kept busy signing autographs and then rehearse for an hour or two. Afterward, he would pick one or two of the long-legged beauties around the pool and they would go up to his suite for an afternoon romp in bed.

And Toby learned something new. Because of the skimpy costumes the girls wore, they had to get rid of their pubic hair. But they waxed it in such a way that only a curly strip of hair was left in the center of the mound, making the opening more available.

“It’s like an aphrodisiac,” one of the girls confided to Toby. “A few hours in a pair of tight pants and a girl becomes a raving nymphomaniac.”

Toby did not bother to learn any of their names. They were all “baby” or “honey,” and they became a marvelous, sensuous blur of thighs and lips and eager bodies.

During the final week of Toby’s engagement at the Oasis, he had a visitor. Toby had finished the first show and was in his dressing room, creaming off his makeup, when the dining room captain opened the door and said in hushed tones, “Mr. Al Caruso would like you to join his table.”

Al Caruso was one of the big names in Las Vegas. He owned one hotel outright, and it was rumored that he had points in two or three others. It was also rumored that he had mob connections, but that was no concern of Toby’s. What was important was that if Al Caruso liked him, Toby could get bookings in Las Vegas for the rest of his life. He hurriedly finished dressing and went into the dining room to meet Caruso.

Al Caruso was a short man in his fifties with gray hair, twinkling, soft brown eyes and a little paunch. He reminded Toby of a miniature Santa Claus. As Toby came up to the table, Caruso rose, held out his hand, smiled warmly and said, “Al Caruso. Just wanted to tell you what I think of you, Toby. Pull up a chair.”

There were two other men at Caruso’s table, dressed in dark suits. They were both burly, sipped Coca-Colas and did not say a word during the entire meeting. Toby never learned their names. Toby usually had his dinner after the first show. He was ravenous now, but Caruso had obviously just finished eating, and Toby did not want to appear to be more interested in food than in his meeting with the great man.

“I’m impressed with you, kid,” Caruso said. “Real impressed.” And he beamed at Toby with those mischievous brown eyes.

“Thanks, Mr. Caruso,” Toby said happily. “That means a lot to me.”

“Call me Al.”

“Yes, sir—Al.”

“You got a future, Toby. I’ve seen ’em come and I’ve seen ’em go. But the ones with talent last a long time. You got talent.”

Toby could feel a pleasant warmth suffusing his body. He fleetingly debated whether to tell Al Caruso to discuss business with Clifton Lawrence; but Toby decided it might be better if he made the deal himself. If Caruso is this excited about me , Toby thought, I can make a better deal than Cliff . Toby decided he would let Al Caruso make the first offer and then he would do some hard bargaining.

“I almost wet my pants,” Caruso was telling him. “That monkey routine of yours is the funniest thing I ever heard.”

“Coming from you, that’s a real compliment,” Toby said with sincerity.

The little Santa Claus eyes were filled with tears of laughter. He took out a white silk handkerchief and wiped them away. He turned to his two escorts. “Did I say he’s a funny man?”

The two men nodded.

Al Caruso turned back to Toby. “Tell you why I came to see you, Toby.”

This was the magical moment, his entrance into the big time. Clifton Lawrence was off in Europe somewhere, making deals for has-been clients when he should have been here making this deal. Well, Lawrence would have a real surprise in store for him when he returned.

Toby leaned forward and said, smiling engagingly, “I’m listening, Al.”

“Millie loves you.”

Toby blinked, sure that he had missed something. The old man was watching him, his eyes twinkling.

“I—I’m sorry,” Toby said, in confusion. “What did you say?”

Al Caruso smiled warmly. “Millie loves you. She told me.”

Millie? Could that be Caruso’s wife? His daughter? Toby started to speak, but Al Caruso interrupted.

“She’s a great kid. I been keepin’ her for three, four years.” He turned to the other two men. “Four years?”

They nodded.

Al Caruso turned back to Toby. “I love that girl, Toby. I’m really crazy about her.”

Toby could feel the blood beginning to drain from his face. “Mr. Caruso—”

Al Caruso said, “Millie and me got a deal. I don’t cheat on her except with my wife, and she don’t cheat on me unless she tells me.” He beamed at Toby, and this time Toby saw something beyond the cherubic smile that turned his blood to ice.

“Mr. Caruso—”

“You know somethin’, Toby? You’re the first guy she ever cheated on me with.” He turned to the two men at the table. “Is that the honest truth?”

They nodded.

When Toby spoke, his voice was trembling. “I—I swear to God I didn’t know Millie was your girlfriend. If I had even dreamed it, I wouldn’t have touched her. I wouldn’t have come within a mile of her, Mr. Caruso—”

The Santa Claus beamed at him. “Al. Call me Al.”

“Al.” It came out as a croak. Toby could feel the perspiration running down under his arms. “Look, Al,” he said. “I’ll—I’ll never see her again. Ever . Believe me, I—”

Caruso was staring at him. “Hey! I don’t think you were listening to me.”

Toby swallowed. “Yes. Yes, I was. I heard every word you said. And you don’t have to worry about—”

“I said the kid loves you. If she wants you, then I want her to have you. I want her to be happy. Understand?”

“I—” Toby’s brain was spinning. For a crazy moment he had actually thought that the man sitting across from him was looking for revenge. Instead Al Caruso was offering him his girlfriend. Toby almost laughed aloud with relief. “Jesus, Al,” Toby said. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever Millie wants.”

“Yeah. Whatever Millie wants.”

“I knew you were a nice man,” Al Caruso said. He turned to the two men at the table. “Did I say Toby Temple was a nice man?”

They nodded and silently sipped their Cokes.

Al Caruso rose, and the two men with him were instantly on their feet, one positioned on either side of him. “I’m gonna give the wedding myself,” Al Caruso said. “We’ll take over the big banquet room at the Morocco. You don’t have to worry about nothin’. I’ll take care of everything.”

The words came at Toby as though filtered, from a far distance. His mind registered what Al Caruso was saying, but it made no sense to him.