“I found Venus when she was about your age: just plain Jeanie Jacoby from Fostoria, Ohio,” Leo said. “She wrote me a letter saying she was beautiful, available, and hated her family, and would I please make her a star. She enclosed a snapshot. And she added that she was writing me because I was the biggest agent in Hollywood. It was pure guff, but her picture got me.
“Later I found out she wrote the same letter to twenty other guys. But I was the one who fell for it and sent her a ticket for L.A. I figured if only half of what I saw in the pic was for real, I could still sell her and make a fortune. Well, she came. I saw. She conquered. I named her Venus for the obvious reason, and Bogardus because I guessed I’d never have the chance to give her my own name any other way. I never thought we’d marry.
“I loved her the day we met, for all the wrong reasons, and I love her still. My reasons haven’t improved any.
“I was just an agent, but I went out and worked my ass off and got her going. I launched her. She would have sunk after a couple of the flops she made if they hadn’t let me direct her finally. I made an actress out of her and saved her career.
“When her star rose, so did mine. Her success was the only thing we loved together and cried over and cherished—together. I watched her run through five lousy marriages in ten years. And when she was weary and demoralized, I stepped in like Sir Galahad, thinking I could make her happy. I was delirious when she said yes, and I think even Venus was pleased. Till the honeymoon was over.
“I suppose she’s told you what it was like. Things have been more peaceful with you around. But we’ve driven each other to mayhem in years past. She thinks she wants her freedom. But she’d come back to me, Beebo, even if she got it. She needs me as much as I need her. (Don’t tell her that, she won’t believe it.) I’ll never divorce her. I love her enough to prefer the torment of living with her to the torment of living without her.”
He stopped a moment, fixing Beebo with his silver eyes to impress his next words on her. “That is one hell of a terrible lot of love, Beebo,” he said slowly. “I doubt if you could top it. There’s one thing Venus and I agree on: I made her and I’m keeping her on top. If she didn’t care about that, she wouldn’t care about me, either.
“Listen, Beebo. I don’t want her ever to love you more than herself. And if I see it coming, I’ll fight you. I’ll bring out every drop of self-love and self-pity and money-lust in her system—and she’s got more of it than she has blood. Because if she drops her career, she’ll drop me with it.” He paused and they looked at each other.
“That’s it, Beebo,” Leo said at last. “I’m sorry if it sounds egotistic to you. You just mind me, and maybe we’ll make it for a while. I don’t know what you can do about Toby. He doesn’t get the picture about you and his mother yet, but he will. He’s a bright kid. But don’t go out of your way to tell him. It’s going to stagger him. I’ll try to explain when he catches on.
“If anything comes up, deny it. I give you this chance because of what you’ve done for Venus. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I don’t know whether to thank you or kick you in the slats,” Beebo said sourly. “You make it sound like a great life.”
“Did anyone tell you to expect something else?” Leo said. “You’ve been living it the last two months. You should be used to it.”
“Used to it but not fond of it,” she said.
“But fond of Venus…enough to put up with it? Because if you aren’t, say so. I’ve been honest enough with you to hurt myself, Beebo. You be that honest with me.”
Beebo’s gaze fell. “I’ll put up with it,” she said, but her voice was rough with resentment.
“I’m sorry, Beebo,” Leo said, and though his masculine aversion to her was as real as he declared, he was still capable of a restrained sympathy for her. “The world wasn’t made for dykes, you know.”
“No,” she flashed. “It was made for movie queens and their tyrannical husbands.”
Leo hunched his shoulders, unoffended. “The world was made for normal people,” he said. “The abnormal in this world have a tough go. If they keep their abnormality secret, they’re damnably lonely. If they broadcast it, they’re damnably hurt. You were born with that, and you’ll have to live with it, the way I have to live with Venus’s faults.”
Beebo was impressed with his sensitivity. But she answered moodily, “I don’t feel so damned abnormal, thanks. I feel as normal as you do. I eat three meals a day, I pay my bills, I respect the other guy.”
“Well, I can tell you, society doesn’t give a hoot in hell how normal you feel, Beebo. You look queer, and that’s enough. People are waiting around to throw some crap your way.”
“What about the queers who look normal?” Beebo demanded.
“They have a chance,” he said. “They can hide. You can’t. And when the stuff hits the fan, I don’t want Venus anywhere near you. You can have it all to yourself.”
“You’re a pretty goddamn infuriating individual, Leo,” Beebo said.
“Sure,” he agreed, getting up and stamping the cigar butt into the tile floor. “An honest man always is. I’ve said some harsh things to you, but they were true. And I’ve permitted you to stay on—conditionally. You know the
