“Oh, I didn’t know. Congratulations,” Maggie said, forcing herself to show an interest she didn’t feel.
Christie beamed expansively. “The rabbit died last week. When the doc told me the news—well, I was so happy I was ready to do anything.”
“Except move from the Astor,” Ethel snapped. “But he finally gave in.”
“Yeah, and she’s got me sleeping in the other bedroom. Only until the baby comes, then we fix it up as a nursery. But I guess she’s right, an expectant mother needs all her sleep. Hey, you two broads chat a minute. I see Dan the Man, and I want to talk to him.” He crossed the room and grabbed Danton Miller’s arm.
Maggie felt uneasy with Ethel. She didn’t know her and she wasn’t especially good at girl talk. “When do you expect the baby?” she asked.
“The end of August, or the beginning of September. I’m three weeks late, but the rabbit test was positive.”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then Maggie said, “I think it was very wise of you to pick a hotel near the Park. It will be wonderful for the baby.”
“You don’t think I intend to stay there?” Ethel asked. “Christie doesn’t know it yet, but next season he’s doing the show from California.”
“Oh, I see.” Maggie didn’t, but she had to say something.
“I’ll swing it. With Christie the magic word is ‘baby.’ I’ll tell him the Park is no good for the kid—muggings and all that. And once we get out there I’m determined it’ll be a whole new life—a big house, and all the right people. I’m going to make him hire Cully and Hayes—we’ve got to get in with the right people so our kid will know the right kids. I tell you, Hollywood is just waiting for Ethel Evans Lane.”
“You might be disappointed,” Maggie said. She scanned the room quickly and wondered where Robin was.
“He’s in the den with Diana,” Ethel said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your boyfriend—Diana’s latched on to him.”
Maggie was too stunned to answer. For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence. Then Dan and Christie joined them.
“We been talking about a new time slot for year after next,” Christie said. “Would you believe it—the sponsors are lined up, doll, waiting for me for two seasons after this?”
“May I get you a refill of this sticky stuff?” Dan asked, as he smiled at Maggie.
There was a loud burst of laughter from the den. Obviously Diana was holding court. Dan smiled and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I noticed you came here with Robin Stone. Does that mean you have to leave with him?”
“It’s the normal procedure, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Too bad. I was about to ask you to dinner. How long will you be in town?”
“About two more weeks.”
“May I call you?”
“Well—” She thought quickly. She couldn’t just say no, and it would never do to let him know where she was staying. “Let me call you,” she said. “I plan on visiting my family in Philadelphia tomorrow. I don’t know how long I’ll be away.”
“You know where to reach me?”
“IBC.” She smiled. “And now I think I’d better join Robin.” She left Dan and went into the library. Diana was holding everyone’s attention with a funny story about her twin sons.
“God, they’re getting so gigantic,” she was saying, “I can’t lie about their ages. And naturally the Beatles are their idols. They also have long hair. Oh, my dear, they are absolutely Carnaby Street. The other day I was about to introduce them as my babies and I stared at these two seventeen-year-old, six-foot hunks of children and I suddenly said, ‘Meet the twin cantors.’ “
Everyone laughed more uproariously than necessary. Robin didn’t laugh. He watched her carefully and when she handed him her empty glass, he beckoned the waiter for a refill.
Maggie made her way to his side and slipped her arm through his. “It’s seven o’clock,” she whispered, “and I’m starving.”
“There’s a table full of hors d’oeuvres,” he said, keeping his eyes riveted on Diana.
“I’d like to leave—”
“I’m working, baby.” He patted his pocket. “I have a letter of agreement all ready. I’ve been carrying it around with me for two weeks. All she has to do is sign. And if you’re a good girl you can be the witness.”
“How long will it take?”
“I hope it happens tonight at dinner.”
“She’s coming to dinner with us?” she asked.
“She’s coming to dinner with me. And if you like, you can come too.”
She turned and left the room. She didn’t look back but she sensed he never looked after her. She saw Dan Miller shaking hands with Mrs. Austin. His coat was on his arm. She crossed the room and joined him.
“Does that dinner invitation still hold?”
“It certainly does. Do you like Pavilion?”
“It’s one of my favorite restaurants.”
Pavillon was beginning to empty. As Maggie sat and toyed with a brandy, she wondered what Robin had thought when he discovered she had left. It was almost eleven o’clock. He was probably home, watching the news. Her anger evaporated and suddenly she felt guilty running out on him. What difference would it have made if Diana had gone to dinner with them? Robin needed Diana’s signature for the Happening! She had been childish, and—worst of all—openly possessive! She had never acted that way with any man, not with Adam or Andy, because she never cared enough. Perhaps that was the secret of her success. Was that really true? Did you have to pretend to be disinterested in a man to hold him? She had sat through this dreary dinner with Dan just to play a game with Robin. But it was ridiculous—she had Robin, she loved him. Why was she sitting at Pavillon listening to this idiot’s life story?
“I’m glad there is really nothing between you and Robin,” he said suddenly.
She looked at him curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I don’t like him.”
“He’s a very good friend of mine.” Her tone held a warning.
He smiled. “I still don’t like him—and it’s not personal.”
Well, she didn’t like anything about Danton Miller. Especially his smug smile. “Perhaps you’re afraid of him,” she said coldly.
“Afraid?”
“If your dislike isn’t personal, then I assume it has something to do with business. I know you’re both at IBC and I know a little bit about network policy. Robin has certainly expanded beyond just the news area, so there must be some rivalry between you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. When he looked at her his brown eyes were almost slits. “I’m not afraid of the Great Stone Man, and you know why? Because he has too much pride—and that will be his destruction.”
“I should think pride would be an asset.”
“There’s no place for it in this business. I’ll tell you something, Maggie. When it comes to infighting, I have no pride. That’s why I’ll survive. There comes a time when you have to crawl a little, no matter how high and mighty you are. But Robin Stone will never crawl. That’s why he won’t survive. And that’s the only word that counts in this business. Survival.”
She picked up her pocketbook, hoping he would take it as a cue to end the evening. He noticed it and signaled for the check. “I’m boring you, talking about business. Shall we go someplace for a nightcap?”
“I’m very tired, Dan, and I have to be up early tomorrow.”
When he hailed a cab, she told him she was staying at the Plaza. He dropped her and waited until she walked inside. Then she crossed the lobby, slipped out the Fifty-eighth Street side and took a cab to Robin’s.
There was no light under the door when she put the key in the lock. Perhaps he had gone to sleep. She tiptoed through the darkened living room to the bedroom. The room was dark but she saw the dim outline of the bed, rumpled and unmade from their afternoon of lovemaking. It was empty. She walked back into the living
room and was just about to turn on the light when she saw the sliver of light under the door of his den. She smiled—he was in there working on his book. She walked to the door and had her hand on the knob when she heard the voices. It was Diana and she sounded drunk.
“This carpet isn’t very soft…”
Robin laughed. “Well, I told you to go make the bed.”
“I don’t fuck in another woman’s sheets!”
Then there was silence.
She opened the door quietly. She couldn’t believe it. Both of them were completely nude. Robin was stretched out in the club chair in the corner of the room, his eyes shut, his arms behind his head. Diana was on her knees making love to him. Neither of them was aware that she was standing there. She backed out of the room and closed the door quietly. Then she went back to the bedroom and switched on the lights. She dragged her suitcase from the closet, then with an abrupt change of mind left it on the floor. Why bother for a few pairs of slacks and one dress? She’d never want to wear anything she had worn with him again. She collected her makeup and her wallet and started from the room. She turned back and stared at the bed. The bed she had shared with Robin just a few hours ago. The bed she had expected to share with him tonight and every night. The bed she thought was part of her future—the bed that Diana wouldn’t get into unless there were fresh sheets. How many girls had slept in it? How many more would sleep in it? She rushed to the bed and tore at the sheets, but she couldn’t rip them into the shreds her fury demanded. No one was ever going to sleep on these sheets again, or on that bed! She remembered there was a can of lighter fluid in the medicine chest and raced into the bathroom to get it. She poured it over the sheets and the headboard, and then struck a match, held it to the book of matches until it all flared, and tossed it on the bed. With a hiss, a hot orange flame licked across the sheets.
She ran from the apartment. She walked through the lobby and stopped at the door. In a quiet voice she said to the doorman, “I just rang Mr. Stone’s doorbell and there was no answer, but I thought I smelled smoke coming from inside.” As the doorman dashed to the elevator, Maggie casually crossed the street and stood watching under the canopy of another apartment house. A slow smile crossed her face as she saw the blaze of light from Robin’s bedroom window. In a few minutes there was the sound of sirens. Soon the blaze of fire went dark and gusts of heavy smoke poured out of the window. She saw Robin come out onto the street with the other tenants. He had thrown his trench coat over some pants. Diana was wrapped in his overcoat but she was barefoot, hopping up and down on one foot on the cold pavement. Maggie tossed back her head and laughed. “I hope she gets pneumonia,” she said aloud. Then she walked down the street.
She walked five blocks before the reaction set in. She began to shiver, and damp sweat broke out on her forehead. Good God, what had she done! She could have killed him. She could have killed everyone in the building. She felt faint as she realized the horror of her actions. Suddenly she understood how people could kill in a moment of rage and plead temporary insanity. She hadn’t even thought of the danger of the fire spreading… . Thank God it was all right! She saw a cruising cab, hailed it and mumbled, “Kennedy Airport.” Then she leaned back against the seat. She’d have to wait hours to catch a plane to Los Angeles, but it didn’t matter. The cab cut through a dark tree-lined street as it headed toward the East River Drive—it was the street where the Austins lived. She glanced at the solid brownstone. There was a light on the second floor. How she envied a woman like Judith Austin, secure in her beautiful brownstone fortress… .
At the moment, Judith Austin was standing before the mirror silently reappraising herself. She smiled at the mirror and studied her smile. It certainly looked forced. Well, that was the smile she had held until nine thirty, until the last guest had finally departed. Her head ached and she had longed to go to her room, but she had forced herself to have a quiet snack with Gregory in the privacy of his bedroom. She had nibbled at the cold turkey and listened to him gripe. The parties were becoming too goddam show-business-oriented. Next year he would personally check the list—if there was an eggnog party next year.
Ordinarily she would have argued, or soothed him, but tonight she was too immersed in her own thoughts. When she finally left him for the privacy of her own bedroom, she had flung herself across the bed fully clothed and tried to sort the events of the evening in her mind.
But now, as she stood in her nightgown, she had to face the unhappy realization that Robin Stone had not taken the bait. Suddenly her defenses crumbled and tears rolled down her face. She had held them back all night. She had not allowed herself to think of his rejection. She couldn’t afford to—not before all those people, not with Gregory. But now she could give in to her emotions. Suddenly she blew her nose. She would not cry! Tears were a luxury she could not afford. Oh, a few nice diamondlike drops at a sad play, or at the news of the death of a friend; tears that could gently slide down the corners of her eyes without damaging the mascara on the bottom lashes. But no out-and-out tears, no sobbing: that meant puffy eyelids the next day and bags under the eyes. And she had a luncheon date at the Colony and a formal dinner party at night.
But Robin had rejected her. No, not actually rejected her—just ignored her veiled offer. Veiled! She had never come on so strong with anyone in her life. In the past it had never taken more than a look, a subtle smile, to bring on instant reaction. Oh God … she wanted him so! She needed someone to hold her and tell her she was lovely. She needed love. She wanted Robin! She wanted sex with someone who would make her feel young and desirable. It had been months since Gregory had tried. Oh God, to be young again, and have a man like Robin want you, to sit in dark bars and hold hands, to walk along the sand in the Hamptons and look at the moon… . Judith’s love began in her heart and mind—the orgasm was only incidental. For her, as long as she was emotionally involved, the experience was gratifying. If she could have Robin’s arms around her, feel his naked body close to her own, touch his face—nothing else would matter.
Gregory had never excited her as a man. Even when he was young, vigorous and hearty, he lacked the spark that ignited romance. Right from the start sex had never been important to him. He knew nothing about any variations in lovemaking. He said none of the right things at the proper moments—he had never gone down on her in his entire life. Perhaps it was her fault. Perhaps she had made him feel she was above it. But she had never been able to feel one tinge of the excitement for Gregory that she had felt for her “outside” lovers. He wouldn’t believe the abandon she displayed in bed with them—the abandon that came from the thrill of romance. Yet there was so much she admired about Gregory. She loved him with the same devotion she had for her father and her mother. She would be lost without him. They had a marvelous life together. She was never bored with Gregory—only there was no romance and never had been. Perhaps a man who was a dynamo was incapable of expressing the sentimental little things that meant so much to a woman. But Robin Stone was just as forceful as Gregory, even more so. Yet you felt it was all pent up inside him. And tonight he had left with that washed-up actress, Diana Williams. How could a man who was so unattainable to her be available to starlets and broken-down has-beens? It wasn’t fair! To have Robin would be the supreme conquest. He wouldn’t be just an extracurricular lover. He had the same vitality she admired in Gregory, but Robin was beautiful, exciting—oh God, to be loved by a man like that!
But he had rejected her. Perhaps he thought it was too dangerous? Of course—that must be it! If they had an affair and it ended badly he might feel his career would be hurt. She had to make him understand that if they had a month together—a year together—no matter how they parted, it would in no way affect his job at IBC.
She walked to the mirror and gazed at her face. Good Lord, there was over an inch of slack loose skin. It had all happened so gradually. She pulled the skin tight. She looked marvelous! Well, that settled it: tomorrow she’d start searching for the right do
ctor. And she’d have to get some pills. She hadn’t had the curse in five months and the night sweats were murder. You couldn’t sleep with a man like Robin and wake up in the middle of the night bathed in perspiration.
She slipped into a robe. Odd that Gregory hadn’t come in to say good night and hurl one final threat that this was positively the last eggnog party. She would go in and kiss his forehead and wish him a Happy New Year if he was awake. Now that she had made her decision about her face and the plan to get Robin, she felt exhilarated. She would have to tell Gregory about the face-lift and explain that it was just for her own vanity. There’d be no problem about her disappearing from the scene—she’d pretend to be visiting Connie in Rome.
Her smile vanished the moment she entered his bedroom.
He was lying across the bed, fully clothed. Alarm and conscience constricted her throat.
“Greg,” she whispered softly.
“That eggnog has formed a rock in my gut,” he groaned.
She breathed with relief. “You say that every year, but you drink more than anyone else. There’s no rule that says you have to drink it. You could always have Scotch. Now come on, get undressed.”
“I can’t move, Judith. Whenever I try, the pain stabs at me.”
“Shall I get you an Alkie?”
“I’ve had two.”
“Gregory, you just can’t stay like that, lying across the bed. Come on, now.”
He made an attempt to sit, but doubled over. His face was white and he looked at her blankly. “Judith, this is something different.”
She was at his side immediately. “Where does it hurt?”
“In my gut.”
“Then it’s just indigestion, Greg. Try getting undressed, then you can relax.” He tried to move and cried out in agony. She rushed to the phone and called the doctor. She noticed that Gregory did not stop her. He sat on the bed, doubled over, rocking back and forth.
Dr. Spineck arrived in twenty minutes. Judith was downstairs, waiting to let him in. “David, I’m glad you could come.”
The Love Machine Page 40
