Mick Sinatra 4: If You Don't Know Me by Now

by Mallory Monroe

  Mick smiled. “You think?” He sat on the daybed beside her. Junior leaned against his mother and stared at his father. He wasn’t too sure about him yet.

  Roz leaned her head against Mick. Mick wrapped his free arm around her and Junior. Junior felt his touch, and seemed to relax again.

  And all four of them sat there, quietly, as the twins stared at these giants that were holding them, until both giants fell asleep and their nannies, gingerly, were back in the nursery and taking them away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Annalise Perry sat in the lobby of the Graham Agency, a huge building of granite and glass, and stared out the front glass window as a Bentley drove up. It stopped in the parking space reserved for the CEO. “She’s here,” she said into her cell phone. “I’ll call you back.”

  “You think she’ll help you?” her boyfriend asked anxiously into the phone.

  “She can be demanding, and a bitch sometimes if you ask me. But she’s fair.”

  She saw Roz get out of the Bentley, grab her briefcase off of the passenger seat, and began making her way toward the entrance.

  “Dang, she can dress,” Annalise said as she admired the light purple Versace pantsuit Roz wore, and the matching hat. “Gotta go. Talk to you later!”

  She ended the call and quickly stood up. The agency was ever expanding, with a slew of agents working nearly every avenue of talent, and the lobby was filled with the actors and writers and singers and dancers they represented. But when there was a serious issue, an on-the-verge-of-losing-the-contract issue with any one of them, the directors/producers/CEOs didn’t call the agent of record. They called Roz. Just as Annalise was certain that Marty had.

  And that was why, as soon as Roz dawned the door of the lobby, Annalise hurried to tell her side of the story. “It’s not my fault,” she said quickly.

  Roz didn’t miss a step. She continued walking. She was already super late.

  Annalise struggled to keep up. “I declare it’s not my fault, Miss G.” Roz had been married to Mick for well over a year, but because of her agency name, and the fact that she was known as Roz Graham throughout the entertainment industry, an industry she’d been a part of, first as a struggling actress and now as a successful talent agent, for well over fifteen years, she rolled with it. To those in the profession, she was still Roz Graham, or Miss G. To everybody else on the planet, she was Mrs. Mick Sinatra.

  But today, to Annalise Perry, she was her lifeline. She was the only person who could save her career. “I did everything they told me to do,” she pled her case. They were at the elevators now. “But it was sabotage I’m telling you. They fed me the wrong lines!”

  “That’s what you said last week when you messed up,” Roz said as she repeatedly pressed the elevator button. She had gotten the call from the director while on her way to work. She was already fed up with Annalise and her diva ways. Now this. “That was the same excuse you gave the week before that. And the week before that.” She looked at her client. “Those people aren’t stupid, Ann.”

  “But I’m telling you they gave me the wrong lines! It was their fault this time, and their blaming me!”

  “How many performances have you missed this month?” Roz asked her.

  “Only three.”

  Roz couldn’t believe it. “Three? So Marty was right! I told him there was no way you would have missed that many performances. But he said you did.”

  “I was sick!” Annalise yelled. “What the hell did they expect me to do?”

  “First of all,” Roz said, “get that bass out of your voice.”

  Annalise calmed back down. “I’m sorry, Miss G.” Tears were now in her eyes. “But I’m no kid in the industry anymore. If I lose this gig, I’m done for.”

  Roz knew what she meant. Before Roz gave up acting, just after she met Mick, she was past that magical, mythical age of thirty too and couldn’t get hired as an understudy, let alone a lead in anybody’s play.

  “You know what it’s like to be in your thirties in this industry,” Annalise said, reminding her of her own struggle. “They’re sabotaging me. Roles just aren’t there.”

  “That’s all the more reason that you work your ass off to keep the roles you get,” Roz said. “I had to call in favors to get you that part, Annalise, and you’ve been doing everything in your power to lose it ever since. It’s sabotage alright. But you’re the saboteur!”

  The doors to the elevator opened and Roz stepped on. Annalise stood there like the scared, aging actress she was. Roz knew she didn’t deserve it. She knew she should have allowed those doors to close and Annalise to face her fate alone. She did this to herself.

  But Roz had been there before. Sometimes you couldn’t do right even when everything within you wanted to. A group of young actresses jumped onto the elevator just as the doors were about to close. Roz, reluctantly, stepped off. The doors closed behind her.

  Annalise looked at her agent with renewed hope in her teary eyes. “You’re going to do it?” she asked expectantly. “You’re going to make them keep me in the play?”

  Roz wanted to roll her eyes. This woman. “Make them?” she asked. “Make them? I can’t make those people do anything, what are you talking about? It’s their play!”

  “But Marty likes you. And respects you. If you go to bat for me, he’ll give me another chance.”

  “For what? For you to squander it again?”

  “No, ma’am, I promise! I’ll work my ass off, just like you said, to make this work. I’ll be there early, I’ll leave there late, and I’ll do everything they tell me to do.”

  Roz exhaled. She didn’t have time for this. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to tell Marty to expect a visit from you.”

  Annalise smiled. “Okay,” she said happily.

  “You will go to that man’s office,” Roz said.

  “Yes, I will.”

  “You will apologize for your behavior.”

  Annalise’s smile began to fade. “Apologize?”

  Roz looked at her. “What did you think you were going to do? Just show up and act as if they never fired you? Hell no, you will not. You will ask for his forgiveness, beg for it if you have to, and then show some respect for the people who hired you.”

  Annalise eventually nodded. She knew there would be a price to pay. “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  “But I’m telling you now, Ann, if you blow this opportunity, it’s over. I will not stick my neck out for you ever again. I will deem you unreliable, drop you from this agency, and you’ll be on your own. Do you hear me?”

  She was far more willing now. She knew how badly she needed Roz, a former actress who understood, in her corner. “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  Roz pressed the elevator button again. “Go to his office, but wait until I call you. Then you go in.”

  Annalise smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” she said and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Miss G!”

  Then she waved goodbye, and left. Stu Scott, one of two talent scouts working for Roz, came up behind her. “Why do you bother?” he asked.

  Roz looked at him. She hadn’t realized he was even there. She looked back at the elevator. “She’s worth another try.”

  “She’s a loser. Trust me, I know. Nobody wants to hire her.”

  The elevator doors opened. “Not now they don’t,” Roz said, as they stepped on. “But they will. Which floor?”

  Stu smiled. He was a nice looking African-American, tall, slender. “You don’t know which floor my office is on, do you?”

  “I didn’t even know you had an office,” Roz said with a smile. “My talent scout should be out and about scouting talent. Not sitting behind some fat desk in some fat office.”

  Roz pressed the top floor button.

  “I’m on five,” Stu said. Roz pressed the fifth floor button.

  “How are things going overall?” Roz asked as they began moving upward.

  “Things are going good. Haven’t found any star caliber talent yet
, but I’ve found some decent prospects.”

  “Any with breakout potential?”

  “A few, yeah.”

  “Then focus on them. And please don’t bring me any more great lookers with zero talent. Talent first. We can make anybody look good. But they’ve got to have what it takes.”

  The doors to the fifth floor opened.

  “I’ll try my level best,” Stu said as he stepped off. “You deserve the best. I’ll give it to you, don’t worry.”

  Roz smiled, pressed the close button, and was off again. In any other life, Stu would have been exactly her type. Easygoing, smart, keen. But she had Mick and all of his baggage. As the elevator doors opened on the top floor, she smiled again. No comparison, she thought.

  But her gaiety eased when she stepped off the elevator and saw J.J. Crane waiting outside of her office door.

  “J, is that you?” Roz was floored.

  J.J. stood up, smiling. “Roz, is that you?” J.J. asked as both women hurried to each other and hugged.

  When they stopped embracing, Roz looked her over. “What in the world are you doing in Philly? I thought you moved to Belize?”

  “I did! And I’m still there.”

  “Why are you here? On business?”

  “Personal, child. Real personal.” She glanced over at the lady behind the receptionist desk. She wasn’t looking their way, but J.J. could tell she was listening to every word. “You have a minute for an old friend?”

  “Of course!” Roz happily and took her by the arm. “Come on in!”

  Roz unlocked her office door and they entered, with Roz closing the door behind them. “Have a seat. Want anything to drink?”

  “No, I’m good.” J.J. sat in front of Roz’s big desk.

  Roz sat her briefcase on top of the desk and sat behind it. She crossed her legs. “So what’s going on, girl? It’s been more than a minute, hasn’t it?”

  “More like five years,” J.J. said. “When I heard you left New York, I said not Roz Graham. Not Miss Broadway!”

  Roz laughed, especially since she was a Broadway actress who never quite made it to Broadway.

  “And then,” J.J. said, “when I heard you’d met and married some rich white guy and was now a major talent agent in Philly, I had to see it to believe it.”

  “I don’t know about all that major,” Roz admitted. “But I’m glad you came. Plan to stay long?”

  “Can’t. I really don’t have any business being here at all. I have a family to take care of.”

  Roz smiled. “You too? How many?”

  “One and counting, child. I’m not pregnant with the second one yet, but I’m crossing my fingers every day.”

  “Oh, that’s great, J.! Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Hell if I know. He’ll be a sperm donor. My second sperm donor.”

  Roz shook her head. “Well I’ve got two with one shot.”

  “Twins?” J.J. asked with a grand smile. “You have twins?”

  “Yup,” Roz said proudly. “Jacqueline and Michello, Junior. Six weeks old.”

  “Wow. Congrats, Roz. That’s great! I never thought you’d stop working long enough to have kids. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you so much,” Roz said, and waited. If J.J. couldn’t stay, and if J.J. didn’t really want to come in the first place, why was she here?

  “What about your husband?” J.J. asked. “I hope what I’ve heard isn’t true.”

  Roz looked at her with a puzzled look. “What have you heard?”

  “That he’s an asshole of the first order. That he’s mean as a junkyard dog and treats you like you’re his property rather than his wife. I heard he was a hired killer for the mafia and put you in danger time and time again. Oh, I heard a mouthful, honey.” J.J. gave her an earnest look. “Please tell me none of it is true.”

  “None of it is true,” Roz said without hesitation. “But I bet I know who told you it was. All together now.”

  J. J. smiled. “Bess,” they both said in unison. “You’re right,” J.J. added. “And I have considered the source, believe me. But you’re still her best friend. At least that’s how she still sees you.”

  Roz and Betsy Gable were once struggling actresses together in New York who developed a close bond and friendship that lasted for over a decade. They ended their friendship less than a year ago, when Bess and her need to date abusive men put Roz in danger one time too many. Mick told Roz that such a relationship was toxic, too one-sided, and he wanted it to end. Roz agreed, but he didn’t exactly give her a say in the matter. When it came to Roz’s safety, or the safety of their children, Mick had the last word. He paid Bess off, ordered her to have no more contact with his wife, and Bess took off for good. But that didn’t mean Roz didn’t miss her friend.

  “How is she?” Roz asked J.J.

  J.J. leaned back. A different look appeared on her face. A grave look. “That’s why I’m here,” she said.

  “Oh, Lord,” Roz responded, certain it was going to be about some nonsense. “What’s happened now?”

  “She was in the hospital, Roz, but they can’t do anything with her at this point. So she’s at Gwen’s old rusty house on Long Island, trying to recuperate, but Gwen’s only doing it for the money. She’s already hit me up for her room and board.”

  Roz frowned. “But why didn’t they take Bess to her own apartment?” Roz asked.

  “She doesn’t have a place of her own,” J.J. responded. “She was staying with her boyfriend’s sorry ass and he’s the one who beat her. The cops arrested him, thank God, and it looks like he’s going to do some serious years. But that doesn’t help Bess.”

  Roz was extremely concerned. “What exactly happened?”

  “She hooked up with some good looking psycho, this guy named Lance, and I know, I know. Hooking up with losers is what Bess does, right? But this guy was bad news with a capital B, Roz. He beat her so bad he nearly killed her.”

  Roz’s heart squeezed. “Good Lord. But she’s okay, though, right?”

  J.J. shook her head. “She’s not okay. That’s why I’m here. She may not pull through.”

  Roz was floored. She shouldn’t be shocked, given Betsy’s penchant for fooling around with dangerous men. But she was. “What do you mean she may not pull through?” she asked J.J.

  “He beat her bad. He beat her with a pipe. She looks . . . horrid. Just horrid!”

  “How did you find out about it?” Roz asked.

  “The hospital called me when she first got admitted. She listed you as her next of kin, but she forbade them to get in touch with you. According to them, she’s afraid of your husband. At least that’s the reason she gave them. So they called me instead. I was listed as her number two contact.”

  A sad look came over J.J.’s soft face. “We’re all she has, Roz, you and I. Her family disowned her long ago. And she wants to see you. She begged me to get you to her bedside. But she doesn’t want you to tell your husband. She’s terrified of that man, Roz. She just wants you to come.”

  Roz wasn’t about to go see anybody out of town without Mick knowing about it, she didn’t care what the circumstance. But she also knew he was not going to like it.

  J.J. stood up. “I’m going to see my folks in Cleveland while I’m in the States, and then I’ve got to get back home. But Bess begged me to come see you. So I came. I’m sorry to drop this burden in your lap, Roz, honest I am. I’m sure after having twins just a month-and-a-half ago you have your hands full. But it’s you she wants to see. She begged me, girl.”

  Roz stood too and walked from behind her desk. The two friends hugged, J.J. gave Roz the number she could phone if she wanted to speak with Gwen, and then left. Roz sat back down when she did.

  She might not pull through. Those were the words that stayed with her. The unsinkable Betsy Gable might not pull through.

  But Roz didn’t feel burdened as J.J. had suggested. She felt determined. Because like it or not, she thought as she picked up the phone, she w
as not about to let her best friend, flawed though she might be, die alone.

  But then her cell phone rang.

  Roz pulled out her cell phone. She answered without looking at the Caller ID. She assumed it would be Mick.

  “Ready?” It was a male’s voice, but not Mick’s.

  She was still reeling from J.J.’s visit, but she knew life had to go on. And she still had to get this business out of the way if she expected to go and see about Bess. “I’m ready,” she said. “I’m coming down now.”

  But Roz thought again when she thought about those prying eyes of her lobby employees. They would undoubtedly be looking out of the lobby windows, ready to see and tell. That was why, as Roz made her way out of her office and toward the elevators, she phoned her visitor and told him to park out back. And she took the elevator downstairs, but went out of the back exit.

  But Deuce McCurry, in the limo, was waiting out front. And when he saw Roz get off of the elevator inside the lobby of the Graham Agency and made her way toward the back, he drove the limousine back there too. He was her driver for the day as she had three meetings to attend and needed the assistance, and it was his duty to be ready. She apparently was going somewhere with somebody else, and had forgotten to forewarn him. But that was fine too. It wasn’t her job to keep up with him. It was his job to keep up with her.

  But by the time he drove the limo to the back of the agency, Roz was getting in a car with a gentleman, was leaning over and kissing him, and they were driving away. Deuce’s heart dropped. But he didn’t follow her. He had to believe that Roz Sinatra, smart lady that she was, wife of a man as ruthless as her husband was, would have more sense than that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Teddy Sinatra paced the floor inside his father’s suite of offices like a man in trouble. His father’s army of assistants, all of whom had their desks inside the large area outside Mick’s office, were taking peeps at Teddy, commenting on his great looks, at how fine he was, as they smiled whenever he glanced their way. But they might as well had been cardboard cutouts for the attention he was giving back to them. His father was on his mind. And what went down last night.