Robin’s voice cut in like an icicle. “I’m not going to pump sunshine up your ass. I’m here to create excitement for the News end of IBC. Maybe your job is to sit around and see what hits on other networks—then try and come out with carbon copies of their hit shows. Okay, that’s your route. Not mine!”
Gregory Austin’s eyes were shining. He jumped up and clapped Robin on the shoulder. “I talked like that when I was your age. I had the same enthusiasm when I said I was going to start the fourth network. I broke rules, I hustled, I didn’t listen to the doubters. Go ahead, Robin! I’ll send word to Business Administration to okay all expenses. You bring back those shows. Dan and I will work things out from this end.”
Robin grinned and started for the door. “I’ll start things rolling right away. I’ll be in touch with you, Mr. Austin, from all points.” Then he left the room.
Dan was still sitting at the table. He stumbled awkwardly to his feet. Gregory Austin was staring after the closed door with unmasked admiration.
“He’s quite a man,” Gregory said.
“If things work out,” Dan answered.
“They will! And even if they don’t, at least he’s in there pitching. Know something, Dan? I think I’ve just bought myself the greatest piece of manpower in the industry.”
Dan left the office. He went back to his desk. The outline for the Chris Lane show was on his desk. Suddenly the whole idea seemed limp. The steely arrogance of Robin Stone deflated him. But he picked it up and put in a call for Sig and Howie. He set a meeting for four o’clock. God damn it—he had to make the Christie Lane show work. The In Depth show would fall flat on its ass, he was confident of that. But Gregory liked action. Okay, he’d give him a show too. Maybe it wouldn’t have Tony Armstrong-Jones or a Kennedy, and maybe the Times would murder it, but he’d deliver a hot commercial show and a rating. And in the end, when the stockholders met, ratings were all that counted. Prestige didn’t pay dividends. Only ratings paid dividends.
He kept Sig and Howie in his office until seven o’clock. When he let them go, he demanded that they bring him more than an outline—he wanted a rough draft of a script and format within ten days.
When the writers left, Dan suddenly decided to go out and get drunk. He sure as hell rated it. He walked over to “21” and stood against the bar. The regulars were there. He nodded and ordered a double Scotch. Something was bothering him, beyond and above the set-to with Robin. He searched his mind. It wasn’t Gregory’s admiration for the man, Gregory blew hot and cold with equal force. A few weeks of low ratings and he’d be very disenchanted with Robin Stone … no, something that had happened in that dining room had unsettled him. Yet he couldn’t put his finger on it. He retraced all the conversation, but he couldn’t find the cause. He ordered another double Scotch. Then he relived the luncheon again—every word, even Gregory’s life story. He felt that if he only remembered, he would have the key and know where to fight and what to fight against. The battle with Robin was out in the open. Time would prove him the winner and he would emerge stronger than ever. It was as if he had stumbled across a key to a bigger danger and lost it.
He thought about Ethel. Maybe he’d really tie one on and let her come to his apartment and do the cold-cream job. With Ethel, you didn’t have to bother about satisfying her—in fact he got the feeling that she liked it better when she didn’t even have to undress. He almost began to feel good. But the nagging feeling persisted of something wrong in his universe—something to do with Robin Stone. Again, he went over the luncheon from the top, all the way to Robin’s exit: “I’ll start things going right away.” Dan slammed the glass down with such force it broke against the bar. A polite waiter immediately wiped it up. The bartender poured another double and handed it to him. Dan took it. Christ, that was it! Robin’s exit line: “I’ll be in touch with you, Mr. Austin, from all points.”
In touch with you, Mr. Austin!
Robin Stone was supposed to report to him, Danton Miller. And Danton Miller should report to Mr. Austin. The son of a bitch was sidestepping him, going over his head—right to Gregory himself. And Gregory had allowed it. Well that settled it—he’d have to make The Christie Lane show a smash. Now he had to come up with a winner.
He walked outside to the phone booth and called Ethel Evans.
“Want to meet me at my apartment?” he asked.
“I’m no call girl.”
“Meaning what?”
“I haven’t eaten.”
“Okay, meet me at P.J.’s.”
“Is that the only restaurant in town?”
“Honey”—he softened his voice—“it’s eight thirty. I can’t make it a late night. Next week, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I swear on my Nielsens.”
Ethel laughed. “Okay, I’ll change to slacks.”
“Why change?”
“Because whenever I see a girl walk into P.J.’s at nine, all caked up, it looks like she was disappointed. You know, had her hopes geared for Voisin or the Colony. But when she walks in wearing slacks, it looks like it’s her decision.”
“You’ve got everything figured out, haven’t you?”
“Yes—even you, great man.”
He laughed. He didn’t want to argue with her. “Okay, Ethel, see you in half an hour.”
He returned to the bar and finished his drink. He looked at his watch. It was bad enough to be seen with Ethel; he was not about to be seen waiting for her. He signaled for another double.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Susie Morgan. God, she looked so fresh and pretty.
“Dan, you know Tom Mathews?”
Dan found himself shaking hands with a sandy-haired giant. The name rang a bell. Yeah, he had just been appointed to the CBS legal department. Or was it NBC?
The giant almost broke his hand pumping it. Jesus, how young and hearty did he have to be!
“Dan, look!” Susie held out her hand. A microscopic diamond in a Tiffany setting was on the proper finger.
“Well, well, when did all this happen?”
“Tonight!” she said. “That is, I got the ring tonight. We’ve dated occasionally for a year and just started going steady the last three weeks. Isn’t it wonderful, Dan!”
“Just great. Lemme buy you both a drink.”
“No, we’re having dinner upstairs with Tom’s folks. But I heard you were in here and I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“When do I lose you?” Dan asked.
“You don’t. Unless you want to. We’re getting married in June, we’ll have our honeymoon during our vacation. We both have two weeks coming. And, Dan, I’d love to continue to work for you until the lucky day when baby comes.” She blushed and looked at the giant adoringly.
“You bet!” Dan nodded. “Let me know what you want for a wedding present.”
He watched them as they left the room. It wasn’t proper to be that happy. He had never been that happy in his life… .
But he had power. That was his kind of happiness. And he’d come up with a winner with the Christie Lane Show if it was the last thing he did. By then Robin Stone would have fallen on his ass with the In Depth show and there’d be a new president of News.
He looked at his watch. Holy God, ten o’clock. He signed his check and suddenly was aware that he was very drunk. He got into a cab and went home. So Ethel was waiting. So what? All he wanted to do was fall into bed. Let her wait. He didn’t need to offer that cunt any explanations. She was a bum—and he was a big man!
SEVEN
ETHEL WAS WAITING. At ten thirty she called Dan. He answered after a few rings. “Who’sh this?”
“It’s me, you drunken son of a bitch! I’m sitting at P.J.’s waiting for you!”
The receiver clicked in her ear. She stared at it for a moment, then slammed it down in fury. Christ! How had she ever allowed herself to get involved with him? Danton wasn’t a movie star passing through
on a one-night stand. And she didn’t take any crap even from a movie star if he got out of line. She walked back to her table, paid her bill, and gave the place a final survey. She noticed everyone staring at a beautiful girl who had just entered the room, followed by two men. God, she was incredible-looking. They took the front table near the door. The girl looked familiar. Of course—she was on the cover of this month’s Vogue. Ethel looked at the men. She had been so busy staring at the girl that she hadn’t noticed them. One was Robin Stone, the other was Jerry Moss. She had met Jerry at a few agency parties.
She walked over to their table. “Hi, Jerry,” she said with a smile.
He looked up and didn’t rise. “Oh, hello there!” he said offhandedly.
She smiled at Robin. “I’m Ethel Evans… . We’ve met before. I’m with the publicity department of IBC.”
Robin looked at her. He grinned slowly. “Sit down, Ethel, we can use another girl. This is Amanda.”
Ethel smiled at her. The girl didn’t return the smile. Her face was a mask but Ethel could feel the wave of resentment pour across the table. How can she be jealous of me? she thought. If I looked like that, I’d own the world.
Ethel took out a cigarette. Robin leaned across and lit it. She stared at him as the smoke curled toward his face. But he had switched his attention to his drink.
The silence at the table unnerved her. She felt Amanda’s discontent, Jerry’s uneasiness, and Robin’s absorption with his drink.
“I just finished an assignment,” Ethel said. Her voice sounded unnatural. She paused and almost whispered. “And then I stopped by to get a bite.”
“No explanations,” Robin said with the same easy grin. “You’re here, relax.” He caught the attention of the waiter. “What do you want, Ethel?”
She looked at his empty glass. She always made it a point to drink what the man drank. It started them off with at least one thing in common. “I’ll have a beer,” she said.
“Give the lady a beer,” Robin said. “And bring me my glass of ice water.”
The waiter brought the beer and a large glass of ice water. Robin took a long swallow. Amanda reached over and sipped it. She made a face and put it down vehemently. “Robin—” Her eyes were angry.
He grinned. “Don’t you like ice water, baby?”
“That’s straight vodka,” she said.
Ethel felt a surge of excitement as she watched them curiously.
Robin took another long swallow. “So it is. I guess Mike made a mistake.”
“You’ve got Mike trained,” she said coldly. “Robin”—she leaned closer—“you said we’d be together tonight.”
He threw his arm around her again. “We are together baby!”
“I mean …” Her voice was low and pleading. “Together. Not with Jerry and another girl. I don’t consider that being with you.”
He rumpled her hair. “I got Ethel for Jerry. Now we’re a foursome.”
Amanda’s face remained impassive. “Robin, I have an early booking for a color layout tomorrow. I should have stayed home and washed my hair and gone to bed early. But I came out to be with you. And now you’re drinking.”
“Aren’t you having a good time?” he asked.
“I’d be better off home. You don’t need me just to sit here and watch you drink.”
Robin stared at her for a moment. Then the slow grin appeared. He turned to Ethel. “What time do you have to be up in the morning?”
“I don’t need any beauty sleep,” Ethel answered, “it wouldn’t help.”
Robin grinned. “Jerry—we’ve just switched girls.”
Amanda grabbed her bag and stood up. “Robin, I want to go home.”
“Sure, baby.”
“Well?” Her eyes were too misty to be angry.
“Sit down,” he said gently. “I like it here. I want to stay awhile.” Amanda sat down reluctantly, her eyes challenging, awaiting his next move.
Jerry Moss stirred uneasily. “Ethel, maybe you and I should cut out. There’s a swinging party a friend of mine is giving, just a few blocks from here—”
“I want you both to stay.” Robin spoke quietly but it was a command. Then he drained his glass of vodka and ordered another. He turned and looked at Amanda with a tender smile. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? And she should have sleep. I’m a thoughtless son of a bitch. Really want to pack it in, baby?”
She nodded, as if not trusting her voice.
He leaned over and kissed her on the head. Then he turned to Jerry. “Put Amanda in a cab, Jerry, then come back. After all, we can’t let New York’s top model lose her sleep while we do some serious drinking.”
Amanda got up and walked out of the room. Jerry followed her helplessly. Every man at the bar stared as she walked to the door. When she got outside she crumpled. “Jerry, what did I do wrong? I love him, I love him so much. What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, honey. He’s just turned off for this evening. When he turns off no one can get through to him. He’ll forget it by tomorrow.” He whistled and tried to flag a cab.
“Make him realize I love him, Jerry. Don’t let that ugly cow move in. She’s trying to—isn’t she?”
“Honey, Ethel Evans is a one-night stand for everyone. Robin knows the score. Now get a good night’s sleep.”
A cab pulled up. He opened the door.
“Jerry, I’m going back there. I can’t let him—”
He pushed her into the cab. “Amanda, you’ve only known Robin a few months. I’ve known him for years. No one ever tells him what he can or can’t do. You want to know what you did wrong? And I’m only guessing, but you made noises like a wife. You told him not to drink. Don’t crowd him, Amanda. This man needs space. He was always that way. Even at college. Now go home, get your sleep, I’m sure it will be all over by tomorrow.”
“Jerry, call me when you leave him. No matter how late it is—how can I sleep when we’ve parted like this! Please, I’ve got to know, even if he tells you he’s had it with me—or if he winds up with that girl …”
“He won’t tell me anything. You should know that.”
Jerry was suddenly aware that the taxi driver was enjoying the scene while his meter was clicking. He gave him Amanda’s address.
She rolled down the window. “Call me, Jerry”—she reached out and grabbed his arm—“please.”
He promised. Then he watched the cab disappear. He felt for Amanda. Robin hadn’t been intentionally sadistic tonight. He had just turned off. Jerry had learned to recognize this trait in him. Maybe it was part of his charm. You could always count on Robin to do the unexpected. Like inviting Ethel Evans to join them.
“How about some hamburgers?” Jerry asked, as he returned to the table.
“You can afford to skip a meal,” Robin said easily. “You missed gym twice last week.”
“I live near here,” Ethel said. “Why not come back to my place? I scramble crazy eggs.” She looked at Jerry and added, “And I’ve got a very nice blond roommate. She might have a towel around her head but if we give her five minutes’ warning, she can have the coffee going.”
Robin stood up. “I’m not hungry. Jerry and I will walk you home. Then Jerry can walk me home.” He picked up the bill and handed it to Jerry. “You sign it, junior. It’s a write-off for you: entertaining a client.”
Ethel lived at Fifty-seventh and First Avenue. She walked quickly trying to keep up with Robin’s long strides. “You live near here?” she asked.
“I live on the river,” he answered.
“Maybe we’re neighbors—”
“It’s a long river,” he said.
They walked silently the rest of the way. For once Ethel found it hard going. He had a way of answering that seemed to curtail any added conversation. They stopped in front of her building. “Are you sure you don’t want a nightcap?” she asked. “I have some hundred-proof vodka.”
“No. I’m packing it in for now.”
“Well, I guess I’ll
see you. I’m sure you’re going to be very happy at IBC, and if there’s anything I can do—”
His smile was slow. “I’m happy everywhere, baby. See you around.” Then he walked off with Jerry stumbling after him.
Ethel stared at them as they rounded the corner. She wanted Robin so bad she physically ached. Why couldn’t she look like Amanda? Why did she have to always kid and come on strong to get a man? What did it feel like to have a man actually call you and want you and look at you as if you were the most desirable woman in the world? She walked down to the river and knew the tears were running down her face. Oh God, it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair to put the heart and emotions of a beautiful woman into the body of a peasant. Why hadn’t her emotions been as commonplace as her body? Then she could have settled for Peter Cinocek, maybe even been happy with him.
“Oh, God”—she said it aloud—”I just want to be someone, to have a man who is someone care about me. Is that too much to ask?” Suddenly she felt an unbearable loneliness. All the dreams, the one-night stands—but she had nothing! Sure, a nice apartment, beautiful compared to Hamtramck, but just a three-room modern place, shared with another lonely girl who also went after one-night stands. Sure it was great to hold a star in your arms, but the next night he was gone.
She walked back to her building. She was positive that Robin Stone was in Amanda’s arms by now. She pushed this thought from her mind. No use making herself more miserable. There would be another night.
When Robin and Jerry left Ethel, they walked a few blocks in silence. They passed a bar and Robin said, “Let’s cut in here and grab one for the road.”
Jerry followed silently.
“Where do you put it?” he asked.
Instead of the usual silent grin, Robin stared at the glass seriously. “Christ, I went so long without drinking, I’ve got a lot of making up to do. I came from a health-oriented family. My father never touched it.”