But there weren’t any beautiful girls in Robin’s life. He worked ten hours a day, and kept abreast of the competition on the other networks. Dip’s show was slated for February. Each day he checked with Robin. “Want any action, buddy boy?” Sometimes he allowed Dip to trail him to the Lancer Bar. And sometimes at ten o’clock when the walls would close in on him, he’d call Dip. “Meet me in front of my building. I want to walk.”
“Pal, it’s twenty-eight degrees, and I’m in bed.”
“Are you meeting me?”
“Okay, give me ten minutes to dress.”
When Dip wasn’t “on call” to Robin, he sat around Danny’s with the agents fawning over him. Sure, he’d see what he could do for them—Robin Stone never bought a show without consulting him. Dip reveled in his new power. He got back at every agent who had snubbed him by telling one and all that none of their clients would ever appear on IBC. And most of them actually believed he had that kind of power over Robin Stone. As one agent put it, “A man will do anything for the man he loves.”
Oddly enough, it was Dan who fought those rumors. He laughed openly at the suggestion of homosexuality between the two men. It wasn’t love Dip Nelson was giving Robin, he’d explain: it was cash—a nice healthy kickback.
The rumors reached Gregory in Palm Beach. When he saw Danton Miller’s new show with a separate frame for Dip Nelson as producer, he called Cliff Dorne.
“The show is pretty good,” Gregory said. “But when that hambone of an actor who couldn’t produce his way to the men’s room winds up with billing there’s got to be something to the gossip. I don’t believe the fag stuff—but there has to be a kickback involved.”
“I’ve gone over the contracts carefully,” Cliff said wearily. “If there is any kickback, it’s well concealed. I came right out and asked Robin how come he bought a pilot from Dip Nelson, and he said, ‘Cliff, if you have a pilot that’s any good, I’ll even buy one from you!’”
Gregory hung up. Judith was sitting with him on the patio during the conversation. “Well, what are you going to do?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Right now, I’m going to play eighteen holes of golf.”
Nothing seemed to be able to stop Robin Stone. Life magazine did a story on him, without his cooperation. They drew from opinions of people who worked with him and girls he had dated. One airline stewardess claimed he really was the Love Machine. A model said he was the most romantic man she had ever known. An aspiring actress said he was a big zero. Maggie Stewart was quoted as saying, “No comment.” The publicity snowballed, but Robin ignored it. He went to movies with Dip, occasionally met Jerry at the Lancer Bar, ate solitary dinners at the Steak Place, but most of all he worked.
It was Jerry who brought Gregory’s growing antagonism to Robin’s attention. They were standing at the Lancer Bar, and Jerry said, “How often do you consult Gregory on shows that you buy?”
“Never,” Robin said. “There hasn’t been any need to. Right now I’m going through the pilots for the next mid-season dropouts. I’ll invite him to view the ones I’ve selected.”
“That’s big of you,” Jerry said.
Robin didn’t answer. He gave the ice in his drink his total concentration.
“He did give you your chance,” Jerry persisted. “If you want to stay where you are, I’d advise you to pretend to ask his advice now and then.”
“I suppose it’s known as Robin Stone’s network now,” Robin said slowly.
“Yes, it is.”
Robin smiled. “Then let Gregory take it away from me.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I don’t give a damn. I didn’t go after the network—but now that I’ve got it, I’m not handing it back to Gregory on a silver platter. Let him come after me, let him fight me to get it back.”
Jerry looked at him oddly. “Know something? Someone said you have a death wish. I think it’s true.”
Robin laughed. “You go to your couch and I’ll go to mine.”
By April the fall lineup was set. Robin was leaving his office when Dip Nelson came crashing in. “Listen, Pauli’s winding up her road tour. She gets into New York tomorrow. I got a great idea I haven’t discussed with Dan yet. Instead of using a different girl on the show each week, let’s use Pauli, make her a permanent character. How does that grab you?”
“It doesn’t.” Robin sat down and with a rare show of tolerance said, “Look, Dip. Let’s not fool around with a successful format. Pauli can have her pick of any Broadway musical—Ike Ryan is dying to get her for his new show next season.”
“But Pauli belongs on TV.”
“Look, worry about your own career. One television show doesn’t last forever. You should be finding new properties. Dan Miller has a new idea for a pilot that sounds sensational.”
Dip’s eyes went dark. “You’re kidding! That dirty bastard! Sneaking behind my back. We got a deal—we go halves on everything.”
“Have you got it in writing?”
“No, we got a gentleman’s agreement.”
Robin laughed. “That certainly won’t hold up with either of you.”
Dip’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll get him for this.” Then with a complete change of mood his boyish smile returned. “Hey, how’s about going to Danny’s with me? You haven’t been anywhere. People are liable to forget we’re buddies.”
Robin shook his head. “I’m leaving for the Coast tonight. I want to find a movie name to do Dan’s pilot. And Ike Ryan has a series I might buy if I can get the actor I want.”
Dip’s smile vanished. “What’s Ike got on you?”
“Meaning what?”
Dip sat on the edge of Robin’s desk and smiled. “Look, buddy, the Big Dipper knows how you operate. You don’t give away ice in the winter unless you’re obligated. Did you beat up another whore somewhere?”
Robin reached out and grabbed his tie. “Listen, you cheap son of a bitch—no one has anything on me, including you. If Dan Miller hadn’t come up with a good show, it wouldn’t have gotten on. I was glad you cut yourself into the action, I thought you might try for a new career. If Ike Ryan has a good show, I’ll buy it! But if a friend’s show slips, I’ll cancel it just as fast as any outside show. And you remember that!”
He released his hold on Dip. Dip smiled and straightened his tie. “What are you getting so riled up for, pal? The Big Dipper loves you and would kill for you. Remember that—kill for you! You don’t come by friends like me so easy.”
Robin put in a call to Maggie as soon as he checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel.
“It’s eleven o’clock,” she said, “and whatever you want, I’m too tired to listen.”
“It’s two A.M. New York time,” he said. “And if I’m not too tired to talk you can listen. Besides this is business. Will you meet me for breakfast in the Loggia Room tomorrow at nine?”
“Make it eleven and I’ll think about it.”
“I have to view two pilots between ten and eleven.”
“Sorry, I don’t like being sandwiched in.”
“Maggie, this is business.”
She yawned. “Then tell me now.”
“Okay. Let’s start with this: I saw your last picture.”
Her husky laugh came fast. “You’re right—maybe it was my last picture.”
“It was awful. But you looked great. I want you for a new television series.”
“Why?”
“Because you just might be right for it.”
“In that case, call my agent. Maybe he’ll have breakfast with you. His name is Hy Mandel and he’s in the book.” Then she clicked the phone.
He spent the next ten days viewing pilots. He decided to let Maggie cool down. But he wanted to see her… . Several times he actually reached for the phone, but he resisted—he sensed they couldn’t meet, make love and part again. And he wasn’t buying matrimony.
It was one of those nights … a restless lonely night. Robin decided nothing could be lonel
ier than a lonely night in Los Angeles. At least in New York he could always go out and walk. But if you walked down any of the tree-lined streets in Beverly Hills, a prowl car immediately approached you. No one walked in Los Angeles. During the week, the entire city folded at ten. Of course, he could always get a girl—the Polo Lounge was loaded with ambitious starlets and agents who were terrified of him, yet eager to catch his eye. Suddenly he was tired … fed up. Why the hell didn’t he just hand Gregory back the network, and walk out? But walk out where, and to what?
The sound of the phone broke into his thoughts. He looked at his watch. Seven thirty—too late for a business call. The operator announced Mr. Milano. For a moment it failed to register. Suddenly Robin brightened. “Put the call through,” he said eagerly.
“Robin! I am so glad to have gotten you.”
“Sergio, it’s good to hear your voice. Where in hell are you?”
“I just got back to town today and am reading the back trades and I learned you were here.”
“God, you even talk like an actor. I read that you were doing a picture in Rome. What’s happened since?”
“I am getting my big chance now—I start on a new picture here, next week. I play the lead. I am an actor, Robin. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“What are you doing now?”
“I told you, I start a picture next week.”
“No, I mean now, like this minute?”
There was a pause. “Robin, I have met someone I care a great deal about …”
“Oh, well, good luck. I’m glad for you, Sergio, I really am.”
“I am having dinner with him tonight. His name is Alfie Knight.”
“I think you two make a hell of a team,” Robin said good-naturedly.
“But what about a drink tomorrow?” Sergio asked.
“That’s a date. Five o’clock in the Polo Lounge.”
“I’ll be there,” Sergio said.
Robin ordered dinner from Room Service and turned on the television set. Dip’s show was on—he might as well catch it.
The commercial came on. The show started with the usual action teaser just as the waiter arrived with his food. Robin was just starting on his baked potato when he saw a close-up of Pauli. He almost choked on it. God damn Dip—he had told him not to use her! How had Dan gone for it? He pushed away the table and watched the show. It was bad. In an effort to build Pauli into a permanent character the entire show went down the drain. He put in a call to Dan immediately.
Dan was stupefied. “Dip told me it was a direct order from you. Next week’s script is already taped. I gave her a contract for the rest of the season.” Robin slammed the receiver and put in a call to Dip. The wire was busy. The idiot was probably busy taking bows. He made reservations on the midnight flight out. Suddenly he remembered his date with Sergio. He didn’t even know his phone number—well, he’d leave a note with the captain in the Polo Lounge.
He arrived at Kennedy Airport at eight in the morning and went directly to his office. He called an immediate meeting with Dip and Dan Miller. Robin’s expression was deadly as he demanded that Pauli be written out after the following show.
“I can’t do it to her,” Dip argued. “She has a big interview today. She’s told all the press she’s a regular on the show and if she got axed it would hurt her reputation.”
“It’s an order” Robin stated.
“I own the package,” Dip said stubbornly.
Robin turned to Dan. “You have equal say!”
Dan stared at him curiously. “I have one-third say, and I’m willing to side with you.”
“Who has the other third?” Robin asked.
Everyone was silent.
Dan looked at him. “I thought you had it.”
For a moment Dip looked frightened. Then his face went hard and his body tensed as if ready for physical action. “No, chum, I have two thirds, so I have the voting stock as you might say.” Then he smiled. “So I guess that settles it. Pauli stays.”
Robin stood up and faced him. “Dip, once you did me a big favor. Do me one more. Never come near me again.”
Dip made a pretense at a pompous bow and left. Dan shifted his feet nervously as he waited for Robin’s reaction. He was surprised when Robin turned to him coolly and said, “Well, it looks like you’re stuck with Pauli. Good luck.”
“You can’t be angry at me?” Dan asked.
“I’m only angry that you thought I’d deal in on anything like this.”
“How does this affect my new show?” Dan asked.
“Is Dip in on it?”
“No.”
“Then you still have your deal.”
The ratings slipped after Pauli went on the show. In June, Robin canceled it. Dip was out of a job. But oddly enough the television exposure helped Pauli and she was signed to do a movie. Dip followed her out to the Coast and Robin concentrated on the new fall season.
Gregory Austin had scheduled the November stockholders’ meeting to be held on the Coast. Usually he made a quick threeday trip accompanied by Cliff Dome, but this time he had decided to spend a full week there. Judith needed the excitement.
Gregory stared at Robin’s picture on the cover of Newsweek. He realized the stockholders regarded Robin as their God, and to them Gregory was a semi-retired old man. But he had never felt better, and was now eager to resume command. He had made several subtle attempts to regain control, but so far all of his efforts had failed. Robin listened to his suggestions … but that was all he did—listen. Then he went on to do things in his own way. And so far, Robin’s way was the right way. The ratings were at a new high. IBC was Robin Stone’s network.
But Gregory hadn’t given up. The summer at Quogue hadn’t been too bad for him though Judith had been bored. Christ—a man spends thirty years to build up a network and a good life, then along comes one illness—a year and a half away from the scene and he comes back to find a new civilization.
His heart went out to Judith. He had seen the scars behind her ears. Jesus! Did she think he was idiot enough not to notice how her breasts suddenly stood up? He knew she must have done it while he was going through those weeks of shock treatment. She had been so great to him while he was ill. It was only natural that she had come back eager for excitement. And he had failed her. Yet he had to admit that he had enjoyed the idea of Robin’s take-over when he returned. In the beginning it had been relaxing to have someone else making the decisions. He had even enjoyed the summer at Quogue and tried to ignore the heavy sighs that emanated from Judith each night as they watched television. But it was her attitude when they returned to the city that finally made him take action.
Judith began taking to her bed for days at a time. Some days she took sleeping pills every four hours. On these days Gregory brought in a nurse to watch over her and at night he slept in her room—he was terrified she’d set herself on fire as she staggered around hunting for a cigarette. When she wasn’t in bed, she shuffled around the house without makeup, in an old dressing gown. She refused to go out. He even offered to take her to El Morocco. She didn’t want to go alone. Okay, he’d ask Maurice Uchitel to give a party for her there—take over the upstairs room. This only caused her to go into a crying spell: “No one would come.” In desperation he placed a call to Dr. Brugalov, his doctor in Switzerland, and explained that Judith was going through a delayed reaction to the strain of his illness and asked if he could recommend someone in the States to help her.
Dr. Brugalov recommended a Dr. Galens. When Gregory explained the situation, Dr. Galens wanted to see Gregory each day. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to see Judith. Gregory was so desperate that he agreed. They went back to his paralysis, they discussed his sex life with Judith. He told Dr. Galens about the scars behind her ears, the small scars on her body. He felt sure she hadn’t done it to attract other men—Judith wasn’t like that and actually sex meant very little to her. Gregory felt she had gone through the operation to hold her position as the goddess on the fron
t pages of Women’s Wear.
But Dr. Galens kept returning to their sex life. One day in desperation Gregory snapped, “Look, this girl was a virgin when we got married—so I started very slowly with her. And she never showed any desire to experiment. And that’s how it’s always been. Lately she must have read some of those ‘How To’ books—you know, those marriage manuals—because in the past few years she’s made some amateurish attempts to go down on me. I never would have dared to try it with her—she’s just not that kind of a woman. I don’t need outside sex. God knows I went through enough variations in my bachelor days to last me a lifetime. And if straight uncomplicated sex was what Judith wanted, it was okay with me. Besides, it was our life she loved: it was exciting, and—” He had stopped suddenly. Jesus Christ! That was it! The fear! His fear! All interwoven with IBC and Judith—Judith loved the life he gave her. He loved her—no, it was more than that: he worshiped her. Despite his grumbling about the eggnog parties, he was still so damned thrilled she belonged to him—thrilled with the elegance she brought into his life. When he used to survey the dinner parties and realized she had created this beautiful world for him, he had always nurtured a hidden fear that something might destroy it. Another man? No, Judith wasn’t highly sexed. Money? He’d always have that. Illness? Yes—illness could destroy everything!
And now it had happened: he had lost Judith. She was courting self-destruction now. But hadn’t he done the same in returning and pretending to enjoy the luxury of having Robin run the network? Suddenly it was clear to him. He could get Judith back on her feet! It wasn’t going to be easy. But his fighting spirit had returned.
First he had to regain control of IBC. He took immediate action. He went to Robin and stated that the decisions for next year’s lineup should be brought to him. Robin looked at him with that lopsided smile.
“Why?” Robin asked.
Gregory was embarrassed. He couldn’t meet Robin’s cool, direct gaze.
“Look, Robin, I promoted you from newsman to president of this network. I’m proud of you, I want to work with you—you’re my boy.” He had tried to be open and affectionate.
The Love Machine Page 51
