The Boys in the Mail Room: A Novel

by Iris Rainer Dart

She tried to be cool but there was no mistaking what was in her voice that night. For a Saturday date. He'd known he was going to call her for days, but he wanted to wait, to see if she'd admit that her other choice was to stay at home. It was a game he'd learned in high school. But so what? It worked. And she was a great-looking bitch, too. Long straight black hair, almost to her waist, and those blue eyes and—why was he saving her tits for third on the list? They were nice tits. High and round and lots of times it looked like she wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt.

  Dinner in Westwood was perfect. Mario's. David ordered wine and they didn't even ask him for I.D. He knew Allyn was a few years older and other guys she went out with were probably more sophisticated, but he could tell by the way she looked at him that she was interested, and he knew by her almost inaudible intake of breath when he touched her leg as she sat next to him in the booth that there were vibrations. Hot ones. That's why he didn't fuck her that night. Or on the next two dates. Just brief good-night kisses at her door and "See you, babe." He loved it. She would smile and say "Great" but the frustration on her face was clear.

  She'd wait. Until he was good and ready. Tonight tease her a little more just to get her really good and hot. Maybe touch those tits. He was getting hard thinking about it, but he couldn't get carried away. His phone rang.

  "Hello."

  "David. Allyn."

  "Hi, gorgeous." Why in the hell was she calling him?

  She laughed. "Hi. Say, listen, did you make dinner reservations for tonight yet?"

  "Yeah. Why?"

  "Oh, uh . . . nothing. I just thought maybe instead of going out, I would, uh . . . make dinner here. But if you already made them I—"

  The kill. She was going to try to seduce him with a dinner.

  "Yeah. I already made them." Play hard to get.

  "Oh . . . okay. It's just that I'm a really good cook, and—"

  "Hey, if you really want to cook, it's okay. I just thought you'd like going out," David said.

  "Well. Dinner here would be more casual."

  "Okay. I'll cancel." He hadn't made a reservation anywhere. "What time?"

  "Eight."

  Allyn Grant's apartment looked like a model apartment in a magazine. There were plants everywhere, and all the fabrics were brightly colored, and David noticed the table was already set with wineglasses, and lots of forks at both places, and a tablecloth. Allyn Grant. He watched her ass as she gave him a tour of the place. Tight. And she was tidy. Neat. Everything in place. Not like him in his apartment, with yesterday's socks still on the floor.

  "What would you like to drink?" she asked. "I made some great hors d'oeuvres."

  Drinks. Hors d'oeuvres. Casual. David smiled to himself. And that slinky dress. It looked like a goddamned nightgown.

  She made bullshots for both of them and they sat on the sofa in the living room. The hors d'oeuvres were shrimp puffs. He hated shrimp.

  "Nice place."

  "Do you really like it? Julia helped me do everything. Actually she more than helped. She did it."

  Julia Greenfield. They're very close.

  "Excuse me for just a second," Allyn said.

  He watched her walk to the kitchen. Very close. Soon the closeness would pay off for him.

  "Dinner's ready." She was carrying a platter to the table. Then she was twitching around serving the salad and the roast, and she was leaning over the table to serve him until he could see everything but her nipples. Maybe he wouldn't wait. He didn't want to wait. He ate the meal slowly. Trying to decide. When they'd both finished, they sat quietly until Allyn moved for the kitchen.

  "I'll get dessert."

  "Allyn." He grabbed her arm, and pulled her to him. He was sitting in the chair in her tiny dining room. As he pulled her toward him those tits were right above his face. He nuzzled the right one, then the left one. He could see that her nipples were tough and hard under the silken dress. He lifted his hand and pulled the top of the dress down two inches and released her right nipple. It was brown and large, and he put his lips around it and flicked it with his tongue.

  "Mmmm, David," she said softly.

  He pulled the other side of the dress down and now both of her breasts were free.

  Another tug and the dress was at her waist.

  "Oh, David," she said. David's cock was hard. Still sitting in the chair, he slipped his arm around her ass. The hot cunt. She wasn't wearing panties. He tugged down on the dress. What a great-looking black bush.

  "David," she said. Her head was thrown back and she was moaning. "Oh, God."

  The dress was around her feet. He was sucking the tit of a naked broad in her dining room, and he had all his clothes on. He moved his left hand up and down between her thighs quickly—careful, just so he could momentarily touch her cunt every few strokes.

  "Oh, God. David. Baby. Oh, God."

  He squeezed the inside of her right thigh hard. Then the left. Then quickly he slipped his finger inside her wet cunt. She wanted it. He'd make her beg for it. She reached for him, to undress him, but he moved her arms away. He'd heard it somewhere. Women loved to be naked while the man is dressed. It was hot and demeaning.

  "Oh, David."

  He did want her. But he had to stay in control. He got up and pinned her against the dining room wall. Now he had his hands and mouth all over her—and she was frenzied—but still he knew he was in total control.

  "I want you, baby," she said. "I want you."

  "I know you do," he said, looking in her eyes. He knew she wanted to hear more. "But I can't." It was perfect. He was in total control. Her cunt was dripping wet and her legs were spread and he was leaving her cold.

  "What?"

  He moved away from her and sat down in his chair. She looked like a fool standing there naked. He smiled his best sweet smile.

  "I can't make love to you, Allyn."

  He watched her passion subside and the self-consciousness take over.

  "I—don't understand." She stooped down to reach for the dress. David wished he could move it out of her way with his foot, but that would be going too far. She picked up the dress and held it in front of herself.

  "Why not?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

  "Because I care about you. I really do." Oh, Jesus. What shit.

  "David. That's crazy."

  "No, it isn't. It really makes sense. Come sit on the sofa with me."

  "I'll get a robe."

  He watched her naked back as she walked to her room still holding the dress in front of her. It was working.

  God, he was smooth. That's what the young actress he'd met at the studio told him. It must have been from growing up in Beverly Hills where teenaged fucking was commonplace. Sometimes he'd spent the night with girls in their own bedrooms—while their parents were home. Usually the parents were too drunk or too drugged to care. Or the daughters knew so many incriminating things about the parents that the parents didn't dare object.

  Allyn emerged from the bedroom. Even the robe was part of the act. Bright pink and cuddly like a stuffed animal. David was totally pulled together by the time she came out of the bedroom.

  "Sit here," he said, patting the sofa.

  Allyn was pulled together, too. She had added some blusher to her makeup, and she smelled as if she'd splashed on more cologne.

  "Well," she said.

  David was prepared. Rehearsed, in fact.

  "Please don't think I'm a jerk," he said.

  "David, my God, I'd never think that."

  He blinked a few times as if grateful.

  "Thank you. You really are a terrific lady. Honest to God. You know that?"

  She smiled.

  "Look, Allyn," he said, touching her hand. "I'm going to be as honest with you as I can."

  "Great," she said.

  "I already knew before you told me last month about how close you are with the Greenfields."

  "You did?" How could he possibly have known that?

  "It's common kn
owledge," he said.

  She looked surprised. Maybe he'd gone too far.

  "Well . . . not really common knowledge, but a number of people know. And . . . well . . . I'm incredibly attracted to you. You saw that a few minutes ago. But, I would never want you to think that I would—just because I'm looking for a job that I'd—I'm too embarrassed to say it." Thank God it was easy for a redhead to look as if he was blushing.

  "David. Did you think I thought you were trying to get to know Harold through me?"

  He wouldn't say anything. He looked down at his hand on hers.

  "Is that it?" she asked.

  He bit the side of his cheek as if talking about this any longer would be too painful.

  "I do think you're a jerk," she said, moving closer to him. "That's adorable." She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "It's so silly of you. I mean, I never once thought that."

  He smiled an apologetic smile.

  "You're not, are you?" she asked, joking.

  He looked away.

  "I'm sorry. David. That was a joke."

  He turned back slowly and looked into her eyes for a long time.

  "I want you," he said finally.

  Allyn rose to her feet and took his hand.

  "Then let's go."

  Slowly they walked toward the bedroom.

  "Julia? Allyn!"

  "Darling, how in heaven's name are you? I was saying to Harold only this morning I hadn't spoken to you in days. Will you come for dinner tonight?"

  It was Sunday morning and Allyn sat on her bed surrounded by the frilly eyelet pillow shams, dust ruffles and comforter, talking on the telephone.

  "Julia," Allyn said, the delight filling her voice. "I got laid last night."

  Julia laughed. "Thank God," she said. "I was about to offer you Harold for a quickie."

  Both women laughed.

  "Well?" Julia said. "Who was it? A prince? A count? A duke? Don't tell me it was someone in the business. And, above all, don't you dare tell me you're in love."

  "Well . . ." Allyn hesitated. "No, I'm not yet. And he's just a boy really. I mean he's younger than I am."

  "Ooh, please—no one is younger than you are," Julia said.

  Allyn had grown to admire Julia Greenfield. To her, Julia was the perfect example of the woman behind the man. A woman whose primary purpose in life was to make her husband's life better, and she did it with great flair. Architectural Digest printed an article with magnificent photographs of the Greenfields' palatial home, Gourmet magazine printed a feature article on Julia's sensational cooking and original recipes, Women's Wear Daily constantly reported what she wore to premieres and parties, and in her mid-fifties the naturally silver-haired, tall and stately Julia frequently stole the show from ladies who were far younger.

  "You realize, Allyn, pet, that unless I matchmake you into a divine marriage with a perfect man within the next year or so, I shall be up the proverbial 'shits creek' in the eyes of none other than my mother-in-law, my husband and your grandmother. So now that you're out of mourning for the eye doctor, how 'bout letting me get serious about putting you on the market? I know a heavenly Beverly Hills diet doctor who would adore you."

  Allyn was out of bed now. She carried the phone in her left hand and with her right she held the receiver to her ear. She tugged at the cord and pulled the phone into the bathroom. She knew she'd better start getting ready while she talked, because David would be back any minute from Nate 'n' Al's with their breakfast. David. Oh, God. David. David Kane. Mrs. David Kane.

  "Julia, I'm no longer interested in doctors," she said.

  "Darling, this one's gorgeous. And he'd love you. After looking at blubbery overweight women all day, one look at your teensy waist and he'll propose."

  "Julia." Allyn turned the water on a low stream and worked her face as she talked. "I could have stayed in Pittsburgh if I wanted to marry a doctor."

  "Not the same. Not the same at all. Now. What about dinner?"

  "I'd like to, Julia. I really would, but I have a feeling David's going to stay tonight, too."

  "Then bring him along. Christina's making a buffet for sixteen. I'll just tell her to expect two more."

  "I'd better ask David first." Allyn was brushing her long black hair. She would tell David that Julia called her right after he left. That she had called to remind Allyn of the dinner invitation for tonight that had slipped Allyn's mind. Not that she'd called Julia to tell her she'd just been laid. Laid. Oh, yes. And relaid. And laid again. Royally. Regally. Laid.

  "That's fine," Julia said. "Then I will speak to you later, love."

  Allyn turned the water on in the tub. Maybe if she hurried she'd have enough time for a bath. David. Sweet David. What a delicious lover. His beautiful body was so golden and hard. And he knew just how to touch her to make her crazy. But the best part was the words.

  "You're so beautiful, baby. We're perfect together," he said, nibbling, nuzzling.

  Allyn stepped into the tub and as she sat in the hot water, her nipples hardened and she touched them, remembering last night.

  "Get used to it, Allyn," he had said. "Get used to it, because you're going to have a real hard time getting rid of me." Oh, how she loved hearing that.

  Maybe he meant it. Maybe they would have a love affair. With romantic phone calls and weekends away, and . . . He was so young, but he was bright and sexy and fun and he knew what to say in bed. Maybe it could work out.

  Allyn got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a big white bath towel. She'd dress casually. Jeans and a T-shirt. She opened the bathroom door just as David walked into the apartment carrying the bag from Nate 'n' Al's. He looked in at her and they both smiled.

  "I'll make a deal with you," he said. "I'll drop the bag if you drop your towel."

  "Sounds reasonable."

  David put the grocery bag on the coffee table.

  Allyn dropped the towel.

  "I'm not that hungry anyway," David said, walking toward her. "At least not for breakfast."

  fifteen

  David had gone to a private school in Beverly Hills. His childhood friends were the children of movie stars and of producers and directors of great importance. He'd been in many elaborate and expensive homes. But even as the electric gate opened and he drove up the long driveway with Allyn toward the Greenfields' mansion, he knew he'd never seen anything like it. The lawns were exquisitely groomed and the lush shrubs and trees were accented with the colors of every imaginable kind of flower.

  As he pulled his Falcon in among the Rolls-Royces, Mercedeses and Cadillacs, David realized he was trembling. Allyn mustn't see. He had to look casual. Not blow it. He'd been so cool when she told him she wanted to take him to the Greenfields' for dinner. Now he knew his scheme was working perfectly. She wanted to prove that she trusted him.

  When they got out of bed and got dressed and she was padding around the kitchen cleaning up some of the dinner things, setting up the breakfast things, she'd asked him to please join her that evening. "Oh, c'mon, David. Won't you?" So sexy in her jeans and T-shirt. She reminded him for a minute of Marlene. Marlene would have said, "Go, Davey. Go to the Greenfields' and take them all by storm." That's what she always told him when he was feeling nervous or inadequate. "Look at you, you gorgeous thing," she'd say, "and you're brilliant, too. Who could resist you?" Marlene. He missed her so much.

  Allyn rang the Greenfields' bell and the enormous front door opened almost immediately. A Negro maid in uniform smiled broadly. "Miss Allyn," she said, "welcome, honey. Good to see you."

  "Hi, Emma," Allyn said. "This is David Kane."

  "How do you do?" Emma smiled at David, then back at Allyn approvingly. Allyn grinned. "They're all out back," Emma said.

  Allyn held David's hand. He took a deep breath. He was sure he looked good. He'd gone back to his apartment late in the afternoon to change, and picked out just the right tie and jacket and pants. Allyn obviously knew her way around the Greenfield house. She led
him through high-beamed ceilinged rooms, long hallways and then into a kind of playroom, furnished with a jukebox, an antique pool table and several pinball machines and out the door toward the pool area.

  It looked like a set. A set in a movie about royalty. Kings and queens. Not just some successful movie mogul. There were a few people standing at an outdoor bar as they arrived.

  "Allyn, precious," came a voice.

  A tall gray-haired woman was heading their way.

  "Hi, Julia." Allyn embraced the woman, who in turn kissed the air beside Allyn's face on each side. Then she looked at David.

  "This is David Kane," Allyn told her.

  "Hmmmm," she said. And that was all. "Come have some wine."

  David walked next to Allyn as they approached the bar. She looked beautiful in a short white dress, and two of the men who were at the bar having a conversation looked at her long tanned legs instead of at one another. Julia ordered wine and, as the bartender poured, David saw Harold Greenfield approach.

  "Young lady," he said, giving Allyn a big hug and a peck on the cheek. "And David Kane," he said, shaking David's hand heartily. "Nice to have you here. Both of you."

  David only smiled but said nothing. To begin with, he didn't know what to call Greenfield. "Sir" and "Mr. Greenfield" sounded childish, and calling him "Harold" would be presumptuous at this point. But there was something else bothering David. Some flicker he saw move quickly across Greenfield's face just then that made him uncomfortable. It was as if Greenfield was surprised to see him there. Surprised in the bad sense. As if maybe David shouldn't be there. No. That couldn't be. Marlene would call what he was having "the old South Beverly Hills inferiority complex."

  Everyone knew the rules of Beverly Hills. The best homes were north of Sunset, the good homes were north of Santa Monica, and the not-so-hot homes and, worse yet, apartment buildings and duplexes, were south of Wilshire Boulevard. Homes and apartments and duplexes that anywhere else or on any other standard would be considered well made and desirable, on the Beverly Hills scale were just so-so. And all of the kids from every section socialized together, converged at the same private high schools or at Beverly Hills High. It was a cold fact that within days of a new student's arrival, everyone knew exactly where he or she lived. David and Marlene's apartment was south.