autograph across her ripe and ready breasts. Women – they were all the same.
Disgust built in Al’s gut. Disgust at himself for using women, and contempt for the women for
allowing
themselves to be used just because he was a star.
Fuck it. To hell with a girl called Dallas. He picked up the phone and dialled Paul’s room.
* * *
Paul had not spent the perfect morning.
He had left Linda’s place at six a.m. while she still slept. She had woken at seven and phoned to inform him that she was not pleased.
He was not pleased either. He had fought off a stoned mugger and been unable to find a cab for ten blocks.
Mental note. Get Linda an apartment on the better side of town.
Now he was going through one big hassle trying to arrange a lunch date for Al with ‘Miss Coast to Coast’. He had finally convinced the organizers what a great coup it would be, but apparently Dallas felt otherwise.
Paul wondered who or what would placate Al. Turn-downs were rare, in fact Paul could not recall the last one.
The phone rang. It was Al.
‘Ah,’ said Paul cheerily, ‘how we feeling today?’
‘In good shape. What’s new?’
‘Mention of the tour in all the columns. Bitch item in
Reporter
. Nothing heavy.’ Paul was damned if he was going to mention the lunch. Maybe Al had forgotten.
‘About that lunch I wanted you to arrange…’
‘Oh, yes. Well, it’s like this, she…’
‘Cancel it.’
‘Cancel it?’
‘You heard me. Who needs it?’
‘You’re right. I’ll wipe it out immediately.’ Paul hung up relieved. He was off the hook. Now Al would never know he had been turned down.
Paul was very protective towards his brother. He liked things to go smoothly for Al, he always had. Even at the beginning Paul had only told Al the good things that happened. He never mentioned the recording companies and theatre managers who had not wanted to know… He spoke only with glowing enthusiasm of Al’s future career, and he pushed and pushed until he made a crack big enough to send Al into orbit.
He had willed Al’s success, and he had also worked his ass off to make it happen.
There was a knock on the door. ‘Morning,’ Linda said brightly, ‘I was a bitch on the phone and I’m sorry.’ She put her arms round his neck and stretched on tiptoe to kiss him.
The phone rang, and Paul went to answer it.
Linda lit a cigarette and wandered over to the window. She felt the usual tight feeling that she always got when Paul was leaving. He came into her life. He went out of her life. He was like the goddamn sea. It was most unsettling. She was just his New York girlfriend, someone to hump while he was away from his wife. She had made up her mind though that
something
would have to be settled on the tour, or that would be it.
‘Trying to get hold of Bernie is impossible,’ Paul complained, hanging up the phone.
Linda laughed. ‘What about “Miss Coast to Coast”? Did you line her up for lunch?’
‘Funny thing, she turned us down flat. Can you believe that? First time that happened in—’ He was interrupted by the phone jangling. It was Bernie Suntan. He launched into a business conversation.
Linda was just lighting another cigarette when Al came in. He swooped down on her with a kiss and a hug. Standard Al King greeting, but it made her uncomfortable. He had a habit of thrusting a knee intimately between her legs. She had learned to automatically back away, but this time she was not quick enough.
‘You smoke too much,’ Al admonished.
‘It’s
my
cancer,’ Linda replied defensively.
‘Funny. Hope you’re not laughing all the way to the grave.’
‘So “Miss Coast to Coast” was still not available,’ Linda snapped. ‘Hate to say I told you so!’
‘What do you mean? I was the one who cancelled out on the lunch.’
‘Oh, come on, Paul told me she turned you down flat.’
Al’s smile faded. ‘Paul – what is this shit?’
Paul waved vaguely. He was busy on the phone and had not heard
Disgust built in Al’s gut. Disgust at himself for using women, and contempt for the women for
allowing
themselves to be used just because he was a star.
Fuck it. To hell with a girl called Dallas. He picked up the phone and dialled Paul’s room.
* * *
Paul had not spent the perfect morning.
He had left Linda’s place at six a.m. while she still slept. She had woken at seven and phoned to inform him that she was not pleased.
He was not pleased either. He had fought off a stoned mugger and been unable to find a cab for ten blocks.
Mental note. Get Linda an apartment on the better side of town.
Now he was going through one big hassle trying to arrange a lunch date for Al with ‘Miss Coast to Coast’. He had finally convinced the organizers what a great coup it would be, but apparently Dallas felt otherwise.
Paul wondered who or what would placate Al. Turn-downs were rare, in fact Paul could not recall the last one.
The phone rang. It was Al.
‘Ah,’ said Paul cheerily, ‘how we feeling today?’
‘In good shape. What’s new?’
‘Mention of the tour in all the columns. Bitch item in
Reporter
. Nothing heavy.’ Paul was damned if he was going to mention the lunch. Maybe Al had forgotten.
‘About that lunch I wanted you to arrange…’
‘Oh, yes. Well, it’s like this, she…’
‘Cancel it.’
‘Cancel it?’
‘You heard me. Who needs it?’
‘You’re right. I’ll wipe it out immediately.’ Paul hung up relieved. He was off the hook. Now Al would never know he had been turned down.
Paul was very protective towards his brother. He liked things to go smoothly for Al, he always had. Even at the beginning Paul had only told Al the good things that happened. He never mentioned the recording companies and theatre managers who had not wanted to know… He spoke only with glowing enthusiasm of Al’s future career, and he pushed and pushed until he made a crack big enough to send Al into orbit.
He had willed Al’s success, and he had also worked his ass off to make it happen.
There was a knock on the door. ‘Morning,’ Linda said brightly, ‘I was a bitch on the phone and I’m sorry.’ She put her arms round his neck and stretched on tiptoe to kiss him.
The phone rang, and Paul went to answer it.
Linda lit a cigarette and wandered over to the window. She felt the usual tight feeling that she always got when Paul was leaving. He came into her life. He went out of her life. He was like the goddamn sea. It was most unsettling. She was just his New York girlfriend, someone to hump while he was away from his wife. She had made up her mind though that
something
would have to be settled on the tour, or that would be it.
‘Trying to get hold of Bernie is impossible,’ Paul complained, hanging up the phone.
Linda laughed. ‘What about “Miss Coast to Coast”? Did you line her up for lunch?’
‘Funny thing, she turned us down flat. Can you believe that? First time that happened in—’ He was interrupted by the phone jangling. It was Bernie Suntan. He launched into a business conversation.
Linda was just lighting another cigarette when Al came in. He swooped down on her with a kiss and a hug. Standard Al King greeting, but it made her uncomfortable. He had a habit of thrusting a knee intimately between her legs. She had learned to automatically back away, but this time she was not quick enough.
‘You smoke too much,’ Al admonished.
‘It’s
my
cancer,’ Linda replied defensively.
‘Funny. Hope you’re not laughing all the way to the grave.’
‘So “Miss Coast to Coast” was still not available,’ Linda snapped. ‘Hate to say I told you so!’
‘What do you mean? I was the one who cancelled out on the lunch.’
‘Oh, come on, Paul told me she turned you down flat.’
Al’s smile faded. ‘Paul – what is this shit?’
Paul waved vaguely. He was busy on the phone and had not heard
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