“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 ove
r 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.”
“When I was at IBC I often came in at ten thirty, and I left when I wanted to. Sometimes I was in at nine and left at six. Look, Herbie, I’m good at my job. I get my work done and make my own hours. Next thing I know, you’ll want me to punch a time clock.”
“I’m not IBC. I have three people working for me. We handle twelve accounts. You make more than the other two and you work half the hours I do.”
“Then fire me.”
He stared at her with an ugly smile. “I’d love to. And you know it! But we both need Chris Lane—and you’re not walking out of here at four o’clock.”
“Watch me.”
“Okay-then I’ll dock you.”
“Then I won’t walk out. But when I arrive at Ike Ryan’s big opening tonight, with my hair not done, Chris is going to ask some questions. And I’ll tell him about the classy job he got me.”
“Go get your hair done, you bitch.”
She smiled and walked out of the room. He watched her broad hips wiggle, and like everyone else he wondered what Chris Lane saw in her.
Ethel knew a lot of people were wondering what Chris Lane saw in her. She sat in the Copa bar, trying to smile as Eddie and Kenny cracked jokes. She hated Chris more than ever tonight. Every important person was at the opening-night party Ike Ryan had thrown. Okay, so there was bad blood between Chris and Amanda, then at least they could have gone to Sardi’s where the other first-nighters would be. But Chris didn’t feel comfortable in Sardi’s. He got a back table. He was a selfish tight bastard! She glanced at her dress. It was two years old. When she had hinted for a new dress for the opening, his eyes had narrowed: “What kind of crap is that? I buy all your meals, your rent isn’t high. With one fifty a week you should dress like a fashion plate. Besides, Lou Goldberg just made me take another annuity.”
Lou Goldberg was the key. He was coming in next week. She had to charm him and convince him that she was good for Chris. She opened her compact and added some lipstick. She simply had to get her teeth capped. She had hinted in every way about a mink coat for Christmas, but of course it fell on deaf ears with Chris. Well, she’d just wait till Lou Goldberg came to town-then she’d really send in the first team.
She sat tense as the dentist put the Novocain needle into her gum, even though she knew it really wouldn’t hurt. She relaxed and soon the stonelike feeling crept into her lip, her mouth and even up to her nose. It was happening! She was going to have the teeth capped. And she had Lou Goldberg to thank for it. She lay back and shut her eyes as the dentist approached with the drill. She heard the buzz against her teeth. She felt nothing. She tried not to think that two healthy teeth were in the process of being ground into stumps. But it had to be done to close that goddam separation.
She thought about Lou Goldberg. Their evening together had been successful beyond her wildest expectations. She had planned it perfectly. She stayed late at the office intentionally and dashed into Dinty Moore’s in the oppossum coat and blue wool dress. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get home to change,” she apologized, “but Mr. Shine is a slave driver. And I wanted to look my best for you, Mr. Goldberg. Chris talks about you so much—I almost feel as if I know you.”
He was a nice-looking man. Tall, gray-haired, older than Chris. But he was slim and walked like a younger man. It hadn’t been easy. In the beginning Lou Goldberg was suspicious and guarded. She played it guileless and warm. Her entire conversation centered on Chris—his career, his talent, how she admired the way he took his success, how lucky he was to have the advice of Lou Goldberg, how he didn’t splurge to put up a false front like some performers. “Everyone loves Chris now,” she said. “They’d love him even if he wasn’t big, because he’s nice. And I guess he could always get work. But it’s later that a man needs security. If he’s ill, no one cares then but his family. And he’s lucky to have you for family, Mr. Goldberg.”
She had watched Lou Goldberg melt before her eyes. His guard dissolved and he looked at her with warm interest. Soon he was asking questions—personal questions. That meant he was interested. She played it direct and simple. Her parents were Polish, good God-fearing people who went to church every Sunday. Yes, they were still alive. They lived in Hamtramck. She almost choked as she explained she sent them fifty dollars every week. And Lou had swallowed it. God, if she sent them fifty a month, her father would retire!
Lou Goldberg beamed approvingly. “I like that, most girls don’t think of their families. They just use their money to put things on their backs.”
“That’s because they want to impress people,” she said. “I was afraid to come here in this dress, but then I realized you wouldn’t care. Not from the things Chris has told me about you. You size people up as soon as you meet them. He said you could always spot a phony a mile away.”
“I usually can,” he said happily. “And you’re a real girl.”
“Thank you,” she said modestly. “My whole life has changed, just knowing Chris. I wasn’t always this way. I did some rather stupid things. But I was young, and wanted to feel beautiful.” She laughed. “I know I can never be, but it doesn’t matter now. If Chris loves me, that’s all I want.”
Lou reached out and patted her hand. “You’re quite nice-looking, my dear.”
Ethel pointed to her front teeth. “Not with this …”
“But that could be fixed,” Lou said. “Dentists do marvelous jobs today.”
She nodded. “But it costs at least three hundred dollars.”
Lou looked at Chris meaningfully. Chris evaded the glance. Ethel pretended the subject was over and returned to her hamburger.
“Chris, I want you to have Ethel’s teeth done,” Lou said.
“Oh, she looks fine to me this way.”
“It’s for her sake. If she doesn’t feel she looks well—”
And so it had been arranged. Lou had written the check himself.
“I’ll take this out of your money, Chris,” he said, as he handed Ethel the check. Then he laughed. “You know, I taught this boy to be thrifty, but sometimes he overdoes it. Chris, you really should get some new suits.”
“I got three n
ew ones—I use them on TV. And I’m working on a deal. A tailor downtown told me he’ll furnish me all the suits free if I give him a credit. Dan Miller said no plugs, but when I renegotiate my contract next year I’m gonna insist.”
“You can take it off income tax,” Lou insisted.
“Sure, but if I can get them free, why not?”
Chris wanted everything free. Ethel lay back, her face numb, the dentist’s drill humming away. She had swung it! When she had won Lou Goldberg’s confidence, Chris’s whole attitude had changed. He actually believed she was reborn. As he had put it, “I feel like God. I recreated you from a bum into a lady!” And she smiled and held his hand… . God, she had wanted to slap his smug idiotic face—but she was getting the teeth, and they’d be ready in time for the dinner at the Wa’dorf. Of course she was a long way from getting him. Some of the columns hinted they were engaged, but marriage was still the last thing on his mind. She had toyed with the idea of getting pregnant, but he was one step ahead of her. He wouldn’t let her use a diaphragm. The few times he actually made the effort to do anything, he used a condom. Mostly he just lay back and let her make love to him! He actually believed she came from just touching him… . Well, at least she had the teeth and Lou Goldberg’s approval. That was a good start. And she would buy a new dress for the dinner.
The dinner at the Waldorf was exactly like all the other dinners at the Waldorf. Dan Miller arrived, escorting an exact replica of his other conservative “date.” Only this one had frosted hair. There were two empty seats at their table … Robin Stone never appeared. Ethel was sorry she had sprung for the dress. The only eventful moment had been her introduction to Mrs. Gregory Austin. This had occurred as they waited for their coats at the checkroom. Ethel had been properly humble, Mrs. Austin properly gracious as she complimented Chris on his show.
Chris reveled in it as he undressed that night. “Didja hear Gregory Austin himself come over and tell me I’m the greatest? And he didn’t have to. He went out of his way to tell me. You know he coulda just nodded. He’s known for that, you know-staying apart from his stars. Jesus, I’ll never forget his New Year’s Day party. I think he nodded to me once and wondered who the hell I was.” Chris flopped on the bed stark-naked. “Come on, baby, make my lob come to life. After all, it’s an honor for you to be able to please the King.”
The Love Machine Page 22
