Joseph Kanon - Stardust

They were seated at lunch with studio people, away from the family table down front. The Cocoanut Grove was usually lit softly to suggest evening, and the bright daylights now made the prop palms look slightly tawdry, like an island beach that unexpectedly turns out to be littered. The band had already been playing when they arrived and the floor beyond the Moorish arches had been kept clear for dancing, just a few extra tables laid along the side. Waiters had held out trays of drinks as they arrived.

“A little early in the day, don’t you think?” Dick Marshall said, taking one.

“Not for champagne,” Liesl said.

They were playing a couple, moving through the room together. Only a few people were actually sitting down. After they found their place cards, they circled the room, seeing everybody.

“How long is this going to last?” Rosemary said to Ben.

“You have to stay for the speeches. After that-”

“All day, then.”

They had reached the buffet table of canapes, elaborately laid out, with ice sculpture centerpieces.

“They sneaked the picture,” she said suddenly. “You were there.”

“The cards were good.”

“So why is Al so nervous. Level with me.”

“They liked it. They didn’t love it.”

She flinched a little, a jab to the stomach.

“They liked you. It wasn’t you.”

“And that’ll make a difference.”

“Nobody’s saying-”

“Nobody’s saying anything. That’s the trouble. You think I don’t know how to read the tea leaves?”

“You’re overreacting.”

“You think so?” She touched her forehead. “You know what that is, what they call it in the theater? Flop sweat. In a refrigerator like this. Do they always keep it so cold? It’s like a banana boat.”

“Coconuts,” he said, smiling, looking up at the trees, then back at her. “Don’t worry. It’s one sneak. Kids in Glendale.”

“You haven’t been here very long, have you? Don’t worry. How? You stop worrying, you’re dead.”

“I just meant-”

“I know what you meant. My option gets picked up in January. So we have to talk now, and all they’re thinking about is the kids in Glendale.”

“You’re the biggest star on the lot.”

“After Dick. And nobody’s hiring Ben Hecht to do rewrites for me.” She looked across the room to where Liesl was standing with Marshall.

“One week.”

“So, one week. They just shot ours. Every lousy line. For her, Hecht.” She stopped, lowering her head. “They’re rushing her picture. She’s all they’re thinking about now. Funny, isn’t it? That it’s her. After everything.”

The early cocktail hour went on, but the waiters had begun to put out the fruit cups so people slowly gravitated to the tables. It was then that the bandleader announced a special treat and introduced Julie Sherman. She was dressed modestly, a blue jersey with a big pin, but the dress was formfitting, clinging and folding, showing her off. Ben thought of her on the train, drawing eyes. But she’d done the voice-over in a day, professional, and the surprise now was that she was good, one of those performers who comes alive with music, warm and easy, comfortable with herself. They were doing “Let Me Off Uptown,” and while she wasn’t as throaty as Anita O’Day she had the same swinging assurance, fronting the band, too distinctive to be background. A few people turned to look as they made their way to the tables. Bunny, not expecting this, was watching her carefully, evaluating. The up tempo seemed designed to move people to their seats and the band kept it up with “Riding High,” the bright Porter lyrics an even better showcase for her voice.

“Do you believe this?” Lasner said, annoyed. He’d been coming back from the men’s room and stopped midway, next to Ben. “He has her at his kid’s Bar Mitzvah? A piece he’s banging? What the hell is he thinking? What’s Esther supposed to think?”

But Esther, oblivious, seemed happy, the entertainment just another benefit of being a studio wife.

“She knows?”

“It’s the idea of it. Where’s the sense? Anyway, who has a Bar Mitzvah in a nightclub?” He flung his arm to take in the room. “Downstairs in the temple. Some cakes, coffee, maybe lunch somewhere after. No, that’s not enough, he has to have a floor show. With her yet. It’s a question of respect. A nightclub.” He looked around the oasis room. “You know where they got the palms? The Sheik. Off the set. It was Valentino’s idea. Well, that was a while ago. Maybe they’re not the same ones anymore, who knows? Here he brings his kid. You know we go back. Sam, he was an extra, in the Gulch. Waiting around. I pick him one day and he tells me the picture’s a piece of shit. Oh yeah, so what would you do? And he tells me and you know what? He’s right. So I give him a shot. Fix it and we’ll do some business. That’s twenty-five, thirty years now. He never lost me a nickel, not once. Still, all this- You want to chase something, all right, but you don’t bring it home.”

There was applause as Julie finished, followed by a dinner gong, one of those handheld xylophones they used on ships.

“Let’s see where she goes,” Lasner said, his eyes following her off the stage. “She’s going to sit with the family? No, so at least he’s not that crazy. Look at Esther. She’s thanking her, like she’s the help.” He shook his head and turned to Ben. “Hal tells me you’re almost finished with the picture.”

“Almost.”

“So we should talk sometime. What you’re going to do next.”

“That’s up to the Army.”

“Don’t be a schmuck. I talked to Arnold. They’re doing the papers. Maybe a week, two.”

Ben nodded a thank-you.

“My only question is, are you tough enough for this business.”

“How tough do you have to be?”

Lasner smiled, pleased with this, then put a finger on Ben’s chest. “We’ll talk. There’s Fay. Go keep an eye on your sister. Dick’s all over her.”

“He’s supposed to be. That’s the idea. It builds her. For the picture.”

“Yeah, I know all about that. I still say, somebody tell Dick. He’s god’s gift-he likes to be reminded. Any chance he gets. I know. I’m the one had to pay off the paternity suit. So keep an eye.” He tapped Ben’s chest again. “I tell Bunny, these things get out of hand, you’ve got a mess to deal with, but he doesn’t listen. Like he knows. Dames always think it’s real. Besides she’s supposed to be fresh. Right off the boat. Not another chippie. Look at that.” He nodded to the table, where Dick had put his arm around Liesl.

“They’re talking to Polly. It’s for her.”

“Five bucks it’s for him, too.”

Ben joined them after Polly had gone, sitting between Liesl and Julie, Dick still drawing a blank as they were introduced again. Wine was served with lunch, but instead of feeling logy he was more alert than before, Lasner’s bet planted in his head now, watching Dick touch her, all the usual little moves, claiming territory. She smiled back at him, a public smile, but Ben suddenly saw them on pillows, talking lazily about nothing, smoking. He turned his head, cutting away from it. Julie, who’d been talking to Hal, turned at the same time.

“That was terrific before,” he said.

“You’re nice.”

“No, you were good. You should do a musical.”

“From your lips,” she said, laughing, rolling her eyes upward. “Mr. Pilcer’s trying to fix something.”

“At Continental?”

“I know, no musicals. But maybe a first time. If he can get Mr. Lasner to go for it.”

Ben looked at her, lips glistening, her pretty face still young, going places. Did she really believe this?