C-I-N-I.
Three years in drama school, Mr Brooks. I know I can do it. I know I can.
They were never this bold till after he'd given them a few drinks. He always went to the casting sessions pretending that he was Very Concerned that they get the right actors and actresses for this Very Important Spot coming up, when what he really wanted was a new diversion. A new source for BJs.
So, pick one from rehearsals and kind of sidle her on over to the Brass Pump and if they really want to get that part…
Well, they can use their imaginations a little.
What do you think would please a handsome forty-two-year-old, very virile adman, anyway?
You want to know how virile he is, dig those framed photos of him on his African hunting trip when you're up in his office tomorrow. Sure, the colored boys did a little shooting of their own to back him up, but hey, he still brought the rhino down himself. God, he really digs that photo where he's standing with his right boot on the dead rhino's head. Is that virile or what? Who says admen aren't virile some fag who works at the NY Times?
Last night, she'd had a little spunk in her, he had to give her that. He'd called the wife and told her he was working late (she didn't believe him, of course, but it was this little dance they did every night he was out prowling), and then he'd spent about an hour and a half trying to screw this little Drama Major Who Just Knew She Could Do The Part.
And got nowhere.
Felt her up a little, but hey, that was high school.
That was also as far as he got.
Till this afternoon when he calledshe'd left her phone numberand invited her over.
'Did I get the part, Mr Brooks?'
'Hey, what happened to Eric?'
'Oh. Right. Eric. Did I get it?'
'I think so. I should know by the time you get here.'
'Is there somebody else?'
'Well, there's one other girl. She did a very good job with the lines.'
'Did you invite her up, too?'
'Yeah. But she'll be here before you. You'll be here last. That's always best.'
'It is?'
'Sure. The last person is always freshest in your mind.'
'Yeah, I guess that's right. Well, see you around five.' Told his secretary that he was expecting a young lady just at closing, and the secretary all tee-hee intercommed another secretary and said, 'Guess who's going to be having a little sex in his office tonight?' and that secretary called another secretary, who called another secretary, who called…
He knew all about it, how word got around, and he loved it, positively loved it because it was all part of the image.
Biggest new advertising tycoon in Chicago in twenty years. Pilot. Hunter. Ranch owner. Crony of NFL quarterbacks, senators, movie stars.
And one killer ass-bandit.
Everybody pretended they hated ass-bandits but they secretly admired them because secretly that's what they wanted to be. Even chicks wanted to be ass-bandits when you came right down to it.
And so the girlCinihad come up here tonight and she'd done just what he'd wanted her to do (he felt so powerful, a chick doing him that way) and now she was finished and fixing herself up.
He stood at the window and looked out at the gathering autumn dusk, the shadows falling between skyscrapers, the first faint evening stars.
She said, 'So do I get the part?'
He smiled. 'You bet.'
'Oh God, wait till I call my mom!'
He slid an arm around her. 'You going to be around your apartment tomorrow night?'
'Sorry. Got a date.' She walked back to the door and picked up her blazer. She had wonderful breasts displayed in that sheer blouse of hers. She picked up her coat.
'Anything serious, your date?' He realized that he soundedpreposterouslyhurt. No business of his how she spent her nights. But still, he felt spurned. Lonely, even.
She smiled. 'I have a boyfriend, Mr Brooks.'
'God, are we back to Mr Brooks?' He was irritated. 'And this boyfriend of yours, what would he do if he knew'
A sad smile. 'He knows you have to do certain things you might not really want to do, in order to get a certain part.'
She went to the door, put a slender hand to the knob. Last night she'd looked a little sluttish to him, but today there was a kind of dignity to her. He hated women with dignity. You couldn't push them around without a great deal of effort.
'So you didn't really want to do it?'
She looked at him. 'What's the difference, Mr Brooks? I did it, didn't I?' The gaze narrowed. 'You're not going to take the part back from me, are you? I mean, I fulfilled my part of the bargain.'
Hurt. Pain. Great crashing waves of self-doubt. Didn't this girl know who he was? Didn't she know about his powerful friends?
'Jesus, I can't believe this.'
'I really should be going, Mr Brooks.'
'You just came in here and very cynically had sex with me and You probably don't even like me much, do you?'
'I'm late, Mr Brooks. Sorry.' She opened the door.
'You know, that's just what you deserve. You know that, don't you? I mean, the way you're talking to me now, I should take that part right back from you, this minute, and there isn't a goddammed thing you could do about it.'
This time, the look was a glare. 'I did what you wanted me to, Mr Brooks. Now do I still have the part or not?'
'Bitch,' he muttered to himself.
'I'll call the casting director, then, and tell him that you decided to go with me.'
She started through the doorway, paused, and then said, 'I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Mr Brooks.' The quick sad smile again. 'I really wasn't.'
CHAPTER 12
'Tappley residence.'
'Mrs Tappley, please,' said Rick Corday.
'May I say who's calling?'
'Mr Runyon.' That was the code name she knew him by.
'One moment, please.'
She came on at once. 'Good evening, Mr Runyon.'
'You asked us to keep you informed.'
'Yes.'
'We're just about to get the project underway.'
'I see. I hadn't heard from you or your partner for some time. I was getting concerned.'
'Everything is fine.'
'So it will besoon?'
'Very soon, Mrs Tappley. Very soon.'
