Dean had to laugh. “You don’t know a damned thing about me.”
“I think I do. Lately, I mean. I used to think you were a rat, a double-crosser, everything else in the book. You pull some pretty weird stunts at times. The crowd isn’t in love with you, you know, and I was part of that crowd.”
Dean’s face turned red as he mumbled, “Yeah, I know.”
“For which I now owe you an apology.”
Dean stared at him blankly. “What?”
“I mean it, Dean. I still don’t like some of the ways you operate, but I know now the reasons why. The main thing, though, you’ve been more than square with me. Working here hasn’t been like it was with old Tom.” He looked embarrassed as he said, “This has been — well, more like working with a friend.”
Dean was so astounded that for a moment he could not speak. Then he mumbled, “Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Freeman smiled awkwardly and said, “That’s why I wouldn’t like to see you get mixed up with Joe. I — ah — I don’t like to think of you playing pool in that dirty league. Think it over.”
“Yeah.”
Freeman lifted a hand in a salute and Dean watched him walk away and out of the offices. A friend? he thought. No one had ever been his friend. Friendships, so called, were not to be trusted. They clouded a man’s judgment and made demands on a man’s time and, quite often, his purse. Not that anyone had ever before really offered to be his friend. Freeman was the first. Freeman, he thought, of all people; a man with a code, a businessman with ethics, an honest man.
A friend, he thought. Well, whaddaya know?
Chapter Twelve
DEAN DECIDED to combine business with pleasure on his run up to San Francisco, so he stopped at Ruth’s house on his way home. She was in her bedroom, in a fluffy, lacy negligee, lazily manicuring her fingernails. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and watched her on the chaise longue, the various manicuring tools and bottles on a table at her side. A glass holding a double Martini was also on the table, with the necessary ingredients and ice for mixing more of them. She had already enjoyed a few before his arrival. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a lively sparkle in her large brown eyes.
Dean inhaled the intoxicating scents and perfumes in the air and looked longingly at Ruth’s overly large, almost bare breasts and the smooth skin of her thighs, revealed by the careless disarray of her negligee. She glanced at him and giggled and went on with her manicuring.
Dean smiled and said, “You’re a lush bitch.”
“I got what it takes, sweetheart.”
“That’s no lie. You’re putting on a little weight, though. Don’t you ever exercise?”
“That’s for the birds.” She looked at him sharply, but still smiling. “You think I’m getting too fat?”
“Well,” he laughed, “it’s something for me to hang onto. I’m not about to fall out of bed.”
“Oh, shut up, you. But do you really think I’m getting too fat?”
He shrugged. “You could lose a little. It wouldn’t hurt.”
“You’re right. Practically everything I own I’ve had to have let out. But I’ve always had to watch my weight.” She sighed and said, “I put it on easy, but it’s sure tough to take off. Only one way it can be done — starving. God, how I hate it!”
“Yeah. You like your vittles.”
“Good eating is part of having a good time.”
“Uh-huh. Which reminds me. I’m leaving for the city — ” He came to a halt as his gaze swung out the window and over Stillwater Cove. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Then he knew what it was. “Where’s the Monkey-Do.”
“Truly’s boat? It left the harbor yesterday. Someone said it’s around at Monterey for some repairwork.”
“Oh. That was a nice afternoon, wasn’t it?”
“Kind of.”
“I enjoyed myself.”
She raised her hands and cocked her head to one side to appraise the gleaming nails. “I guess you did. You and Truly seemed to have a lot in common. I wonder just how common it got when you stayed on with her.”
“Oh, don’t be a damned fool. She wanted to talk about Steve’s business, that’s all.”
“Is that so? It must have had quite an effect on her. Later on, at the Lodge, she got drunk as a skunk. That’s the first time anyone’s ever known Truly to get drunk.”
Dean frowned and thought of the conversation he had had with Truly on the boat. He shook his head. “Nothing we had to say would cause anyone to get upset. Something probably happened to her later.”
Ruth had explored the subject as far as she cared to go. “I guess. Anyway, I can’t see the sense of a boat like that. It’s more fun lying around on a beach, if you ask me. And no one was even dressed right. That’s what got me. There they were on a nice yacht and they all looked like a bunch of beach bums.”
“You were sure dressed.”
“Of course.”
“Fit to kill.”
She lowered her hands to her lap and frowned at him. “Just what do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, yes, you did.”
“Honestly,” he smiled, “it isn’t anything. It’s just that — well, people like Truly Moore and her crowd don’t bother to get themselves all gussied out for a little party on a boat. You stood out like a sore thumb.” He thought of a way to end that subject and made the fatal error of saying, “It just isn’t done.”
The flush deepened in her cheeks. She ran her hands back through thick brown hair and gave him a stiff smile. “You mean what I was wearing wasn’t right?”
“No, no. You were dressed right for going yachting, but — but — ” He paused, then added lamely, “But not for that particular occasion. That’s all I mean. People in Truly’s crowd don’t put on the dog — ”
She asked sweetly. “And just what do you mean by that, darling? You mean that I was putting on the dog? You mean — ”
He was beginning to feel irritated. “I don’t mean a damned thing. All I said — ”
“I know what you said. Was it so dreadfully embarrassing for you? After all, you were my escort. You must have suffered terribly from all the remarks people made.”
He gave her a sullen look. “No one said anything.”
“Oh, now,” she laughed shrilly, “you can’t expect me to believe that. If you were so upset, then someone must have said something. Truly, most likely.”
“Damn it all, Ruth, I was not upset. I was paying absolutely no attention.”
“That I know. Now that I think back on it, you had nothing to do with me on that boat. As if I had the plague. I wondered what was the matter with you.”
“You were yapping with Jan and Betty Moore.”
“Now I realize what it was. I stood out like a sore thumb and you were embarrassed to be seen with me. Poor little you.”
Dean got to his feet and exploded, “Oh, for God’s sake! What’s the matter with you, anyway? So you were dressed right for a yacht, but it was all wrong for that party. It was a mistake. Furthermore, it’s not the kind of mistake Truly would ever make.”
“Oh.” She looked as if she had been slapped and then turned to drain the Martini in her glass. “Dear Truly,” she mumbled. She looked back at him, her eyes blazing with anger. “Now, you just listen to me, Mr. Dean Holt. If the way I dress embarrasses you and you have any complaints to make — ”
Dean did not wait to hear the finish. He stalked out of the room and out of the house and drove home. Damned women, he was thinking. You say a little thing, in all innocence, and they twist it around to mean something else. But he was not to be cheated of his fun in the city. He went into the library, called the Parkers’ number, and in a moment had Jan on the phone.
“Jan?” he said. “Dean. Look, baby. I’m running up to the city for the week end. I got a little business with some buyers in the morning, but otherwise my time’s my own. How does it sound to you?”
“Well,” she said, “Sa
m left for Vegas this afternoon. Wait a minute while I think.” There was silence for a moment, then she said, “Why, I think the idea is heavenly. When do we leave?”
“Have you had dinner?”
“Just about to start. It’s on the table.”
“All right, go ahead. I’ll pick you up in about an hour and a half. Toss in an evening dress and we’ll do a little dancing.”
“You’re sweet, darling. Be seeing you.”
“Yeah.”
He had dinner and a shower and a change of clothes and carefully packed a suitcase for a stay of two nights. It was dark when he picked up Jan in front of her home and put her luggage on the back seat. She bit his ear lobe and whispered a naughty suggestion in his ear and he burst out laughing as they drove away. He thought for a second that the trip would probably be more fun with Ruth, then carefully erased her from his mind. Jan would be good company too, especially later.
They arrived in the city just before ten at night and checked into a Union Square hotel, where Dean registered as Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Parker, his usual custom. Their corner room was large and overlooked the square. Jan stripped down at once to put on evening clothes and Dean started dressing in a tuxedo. He had his trousers on when his mind swung back to the condition of the market. He glanced out the window at a sky bright with stars and had to laugh at himself. What he was worried about was the continuing good weather in the East, not the conditions in the West.
He picked up the telephone and put through a long-distance call to the weather bureau at New York’s La Guardia Airport. He asked for conditions aloft at Boston, New York, Norfolk, and Charleston, and jotted down the information. He hung up the phone and sat back to study the data.
Jan had heard his end of the conversation and called from the bathroom, “How is it in the East?”
He scratched his head, pulled at his lower lip, and studied the figures. “Not bad,” he said. “There’s a front moving in. Thunderstorms and showers.”
“Will it hit the Atlantic coast?”
“Oh, definitely. This information I get is for the airlines. It’s the latest and the best. All the other jokers in the valley take what they get on the radio.”
“You’re smart.”
“Keep saying it, baby.”
“You’re just smarter than all git-out.”
“Now you’re talkin’, pal.”
“You’re just Old Man Weather himself.”
“When I say, ‘Rain,’ it rains.”
She came out of the bathroom in a white sheath evening gown cut low on her bosom and with virtually no back. She turned about so that he could hook it together at the small of her back. He slapped her buttocks playfully and leaned over to concentrate on the tiny hooks and eyes.
“If I’ve figured the dope out right,” he said, “there’s going to be a lot of spoilage in the East and the market will start jumping in five or six days.”
“My God, you men and your weather. It’s always weather this or weather that.”
“Whether we will or whether we won’t?”
“Don’t get corny. Whether we will or not isn’t in question. We know we will.”
“Yeah. You’re really something in the hay.”
She said with mock dignity, “Pu-lease, sir. Leave us stay with the weather. How are your spuds, boy?”
“The frost got ’em.” He put on his jacket, tossed a light topcoat over his arm, and bowed to Jan. “Shall we be off?”
They danced and drank their way through the Fairmont and the Mark Hopkins and after midnight were at the St. Francis watching the last show. They hurried to the Hangover Club and were just in time for the last jam session and the two A.M. closing. They made their way back to their own hotel and up to their room, tired and pleased and just a little drunk. When they had first checked in Dean had had the foresight to put some bottles of champagne in an ice bucket. The ice was all melted, but the bottles were properly chilled. Dean threw his coat and jacket over a chair, opened the bottles, and proceeded to mix two glasses of champagne and brandy. He turned about to give one of them to Jan and forgot all about the drinks in his hands.
Jan had just stepped out of her evening gown and was standing before the bureau mirror, blinking drunkenly and happily at her image in the glass. She had worn nothing under her gown, so that, upon shedding it, she was clothed only in a garter belt, long sheer hose, and narrow shoes with rhinestone heels. Her smooth skin glistened in the dim rays of the single lamp and her close-cut black hair was the sooty shade of the night.
Dean put the glasses aside, took her in his arms, and hungrily kissed her throat and shoulders. She clung to him fiercely and whispered, “Don’t hurt me tonight.”
“I won’t.”
“Sometimes you do.”
“I won’t.”
She cried, “But I don’t mind. I don’t care. Do as you please. You’re an animal and I love it. Sam is a pale imitation.”
“Forget about Sam.”
“You won’t hurt me?”
“Oh, hell.”
He picked her up in his arms and kissed her savagely and carried her to the bed. She moaned softly and bit his lower lip, just hard enough to bring a drop of blood. Dean was beyond noticing or caring.
• • •
He had left a call for nine in the morning. When it came he sleepily answered the phone and dropped it back into the cradle. He turned and looked at Jan at his side, also awake for a moment and yawning broadly. The sheet covering them was down to her hips and he leaned on an elbow and studied her firm, small breasts and wondered why it was that women with small breasts and good legs were usually good in bed. When Jan dropped the few reserves she possessed, her passion knew no limits and no inhibitions. But Ruth was also good in bed, even a shade better than Jan, and she had large breasts. The exception, he thought. There had to be one exception. French women, now, they mostly had small breasts, and from what he had heard about them —
Jan rubbed the heels of her palms in her eyes and asked, “Time?”
“Nine.”
“Oh, you louse. You wake me up at nine in the morning?”
“I have to see some people. You go back to sleep.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.” She pulled him down to her and her hands went exploring. She whispered, “But must you leave right away?”
Dean got dressed an hour later, already beginning to worry about catching the Diamond Market buyers before they left their offices at noon. Jan came out of the bathroom and dropped back on the bed and stared at the two glasses he had mixed hours before. Dean handed one of them to her and she drank it down without stopping and reached for the other and finished that. Then she lay back against the pillows, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke at the ceiling.
Dean slipped into a business jacket and frowned at her. His reaction to love-making was always the same, that of the unsophisticated and unthinking male animal. When his passion was spent he invariably looked upon his partner as a wanton and no-good tramp. He regarded with distaste the smear of lipstick about her overly large mouth, and her eyelids, heavy with alcohol and sexual exhaustion, caused him to shudder. He stared at her long, nude body and, now that the sight no longer aroused him, he thought that she should at least have the decency to cover herself. Nice women simply did not throw their nudity in a man’s face. But then, he thought, Jan didn’t fall in that category, anyway.
He told her, “I’ll call you when I’m through,” and hurried out of the room. He wanted fresh air that was not laden with alcohol, cigarette smoke, and, especially, the musky scent of a woman’s spent body.
He found the buyers of the Diamond chain still in their offices and spent a profitable hour or so with them. He followed Freeman’s suggestion and offered them quality lettuce and was assured that if he could supply it they would do their buying exclusively with him. Inasmuch as they did the buying for three other store chains in northern California, it was a worth-while order to have, particularly on a low market. He lef
t their offices feeling very pleased with himself and with the world.
He called the hotel to ask Jan about lunch, but she preferred more sleep. He had lunch alone, taking his time and enjoying his food and closely watching the other diners. He was interested in the way they dressed and talked and conducted themselves. Dean was in awe of them all, merely because they belonged in the city. In spite of his success, he had done no traveling; he had never been out of California, and the “only country he knew well was the rustic Monterey Peninsula. Whenever he was in the city, which was not often, he felt like a rustic. His clothes were tailored more expensively and he was better groomed than anyone else in the room, yet he felt as if there was hay sticking in his hair.
He went out to the sidewalk after his meal and paused to light a cigarette, turning his back to a light breeze. When he looked up he saw the gray Mercedes coming around the Powell Street corner and watched it intently. When it got close he saw Truly at the wheel and lifted an arm to wave excitedly. She saw him just as she was passing, stepped on the brake, and pulled in to the curb. Traffic was heavy and other cars were forced to stop behind her.
When Dean lifted the door to speak to her she said, “Hop in.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s all right. I’ll take you around the block. We can’t talk here.”
Dean looked back at the other cars, dropped into the right-hand seat, and slammed the door. Truly started slowly forward to cruise around the block. “This is a pleasant surprise,” she said. “I was just thinking of you.”
Dean put an arm over the back of the seat and turned partly to face her. “That so? What are you doing in town?”
She gave him a blank look. “Why, I live here, of course.”
“In the city? But — but — ”
“Oh,” she smiled, “now I’ve confused you. Naturally, you wouldn’t know. I’ve had an apartment here in the city ever since I was nineteen. I didn’t like living at home.”
“Well, I knew you traveled a lot — ”
“And when I wasn’t traveling, this is where I lived. Even now, Pebble Beach isn’t my home. That was left to Steve. I have a suite of rooms there, of course, but when I’m there I’m just Steve’s guest. I don’t intend overstaying my welcome. This summer will be quite enough.”
Hunger and the Hate Page 22
