Гарольд Роббинс - The Raiders

"She is still a beautiful woman," said Eddie quietly.

"You were taken with her, Eddie. If you had succeeded, you could have had her."

"Don Carlo, I am afraid she is not the kind of woman who— "

" Who what? That was your problem, Eddie. You do not understand women. Businessmen trade in women like they trade in commodities, like oil or wheat or pork bellies. You say she is beautiful. So is every one of them, to somebody. You were afraid of her, Eddie!"

"I did the best I could for you, Don Carlo. I would never think of doing anything less — for you."

"Uhmm ... Well, I'm told you're a good boy. We thought that being related to her you might be able to do more than the usual thing. But— Go now, Eddie. Go back to New York. I will not speak ill of you."

Eddie Latham wondered if he should not kiss the hand of the Don, but it wasn't offered to him, and already Don Carlo Vulcano was summoning others to his table. Eddie hurried out of the restaurant.

The Glenda Grayson Show was broadcast live, and when the star came off the set after her final number she was drenched with sweat. She was also high with exhilaration. She needed a shower, and she needed a drink.

Danny Kaye had come off the set just ahead of her and waited for her. He threw his arms around her. "We work good together, huh?" He laughed. "Hey!" He, too, was sweating and high. He seemed about to break into another song and dance.

"C'm in and have a drink, ol' buddy," she said, leading him toward her dressing room.

"What? Two more shows this season?" he asked as he walked beside her, holding her arm.

"Two more. Then, by God, contract," she said.

"Your producer was in the booth," said Kaye. "I thought he looked kinda grim. Does anything ever satisfy the man?"

"Nothing in this world ever entirely satisfies Jonas Cord," she said. "Bat you could satisfy. Not Jonas. Tomorrow I'll get a memo telling me it was a great performance but also telling me how it could have been better."

"Like a sponsor," said Kaye.

She threw open the dressing room door. "Scotch!" she cried. "Something for Danny!"

Sam Stein was sitting on the small couch in her dressing room, waiting for her to come off the set. Sitting beside him was a handsome, swarthy man she did not recognize. He was smoking a cigar and lounged comfortably on the couch, with his legs crossed. Glenda had no idea who he was, but if Sam had brought him he was okay with her.

Amelia had served as Glenda's dresser for the past two years. She was a handsome, formidable, slender black woman, maybe forty years old, so far as Glenda could estimate, and Glenda had learned to place confidence in her. She had a light Scotch with plenty of ice and soda waiting, and she handed it to the star and stepped behind her to begin unfastening her finale gown.

"It came down very well, Glenda," said Sam Stein. "The ratings will be— "

"Danny brings the good ratings," said Glenda. "Pour him a drink, for Christ's sake, and hand him a wet towel."

Glenda let Amelia take off her dress, leaving her standing in the middle of the dressing room in white nylon panties and bra. She took a gulp from her drink and stepped inside the shower. Her underclothes were wet with sweat, and usually she soaped herself and them together, then took them off, rinsed them, and hung them over the top of the glass door. The shower water steamed the glass, and a blurred image of her showed through the door.

"Didn't give you a chance to introduce your friend, Sam," she said.

"He's John Stefano," said Sam. "Got some ideas for us."

"Joke writer?" she asked.

"Not exactly."

"Well, nice to meet ya, John Stefano. Congratulate Danny on a great performance. When he comes on, we do the best show of the year."

Stefano nodded and smiled at Danny Kaye. "I've admired your work for many years," he said.

"Thank you," said Kaye. "Well ... Sam says you're not a joke writer — which I didn't think you were. What is your business, Mr. Stefano, if I may ask?"

"Investments," said Stefano.

"The very best line of business," said Danny Kaye. He took the answer as ominously uncommunicative and retreated from the subject. "Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the show."

"Oh, yes," said Stefano.

Kaye took a sip from the Scotch Sam handed him. "I have to get on to my dressing room," he said.

"Don't you dare leave before I get outa here and give you a big kiss," said Glenda. "Time for a towel, Amelia."

Amelia handed her one towel and held up another while Glenda dried herself and pulled on a flowered silk dressing gown. She picked up the bottle and strengthened her drink.

"Well, you say Mr. Stefano has some ideas for us," she said to Sam.

"Some business ideas," said Sam.

"I'll be going," said Danny Kaye. "You'll want to talk in private."

Glenda threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you, lover," she said. "Give my best to Sylvia."

Glenda turned to Amelia. "Thanks," she said. "You can go get yourself some dinner now."

Glenda sat down at her dressing table and went to work on her hair and makeup. Her back was to Sam Stein and John Stefano, but she could see them in the mirror. "What ya got in mind, guys?"

"Some different things," said Sam. "To start with, I've got some news for you. Margit notified me this morning that she doesn't want me for her agent anymore."

"What the hell?"

"And guess who her new agent is gonna be," Sam continued. "Ben Parrish. How does that grab ya?"

"It grabs me that Jonas Cord is getting ready to give Glenda's show to Margit Little," she said angrily.

"No. He won't do that. You're still the only moneymaker Cord Productions has got. I figure he'll spin her off, set up a Margit Little Show ."

"Well, I guess you can't blame the girl if she takes that deal," said Glenda. "She'll get another deal with it, though — that she may not find irresistible. Jonas Cord will want in her pants."

"He's already in her pants," said Sam.

"And Ben'll be in 'em next," said Glenda.

"I doubt it. I think the Cords have chewed up Ben Parrish and spit him out. They queered some of his deals. For a guy like him, money dries up when the Cords put the word around that anybody who backs his deals will offend them. He can't do anything they don't want him to do. They've made him dependent on them."

Glenda turned and smiled over her shoulder. "Except in one important respect, Ben's a little guy. When he messed around with Jo-Ann, he brought down the wrath of a family that can buy and sell him out of pocket change."

"Which brings us to another point," said Sam. "John Stefano is here to offer us a deal."

"Let's say I'm here to do some preliminary talking about a possible deal," said Stefano. Now that he was going to talk, he put his cigar aside in a heavy glass ashtray. "When you came in from the set, you said you had to do just two more shows under your present contract with Cord Productions. When you go to negotiation with the Cords, it could be very helpful to you if you had an alternative."

"What might the alternative be?"

"Just thinking out loud," said Stefano. "I can book you into the best clubs in the United States, not to mention a run in one of the big rooms in Havana. You can make more money than you're making in television, and you won't have to work so hard, because you can use the same show for a whole year."

"The way I used to do," she said.

Sam interjected an idea. "Suppose you were off television for a year. There would probably be a big demand for you to return."

"Or maybe not," she said. "The public's got a short memory."

"You're a star," said Sam. "The public won't forget you."

"We can keep you in the public eye," said Stefano. "Get you covered in the tabloids. Then maybe we form a production company — GG Productions, let's say — and package a return show. We go to one of the networks with a pilot tape. We can orchestrate everything."