Anyway, I did not feel like spending the evening with Carol. I knew she would start something about Eve and my temper was too jumpy to take anything from anyone. So I called her and told her I had to go to Los Angeles on urgent business. She wanted to see me on Saturday, but I lied myself out of that too. I could tell by her voice that she was depressed and disappointed, but I was determined to spend the week-end with Eve and no one was going to upset my plans. All the same I felt a heel when Carol tried to persuade me.
Then I wrote to Eve. I told her I would call for her at six- thirty the following evening, that we would go to the theatre and have the rest of the week-end to get to know each other. I enclosed a hundred dollar bill saying it was for bed-and-break- fast charges. This was the first time I had ever paid a woman to go with me. I did not like it. Somehow I began comparing myself with Harvey Barrow, but I told myself that she would come out with me before long just for the fun of it. That made things different.
The following morning while Russell prepared breakfast, I lounged in the big armchair by the window and idled with the newspaper.
“Russell,” I said, when he brought the coffee and eggs, “I’ll be away for the week-end. I want you to go out to Three Point and pack my things. I’m giving the place up. See the Estate agents and fix it with them.”
He slid the chair under me as I sat down at the table. “It’s a pity to give the place up, isn’t it, Mr. Clive?” he said, spreading a snowy napkin across my knees. “I thought you liked it out there.”
“So I do, but I have to cut down on something and Three Point is costing me plenty.”
“I see, sir.” His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “I wasn’t aware that we were financially embarrassed. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Maybe it isn’t as bad as that,” I said, not wishing him to be scared. “Let’s face it, Russell. “Rain Check” is now only paying $200 a week. Last week, it didn’t pay at all. There’ll be nothing from the books until the end of September and when I do get payment it won’t be all that good. So I have to cut down for a while.”
Russell looked vaguely alarmed. “Won’t you be writing something else before long, sir?”
“I’m working on something now,” I said, taking the cup of coffee he handed to me. “Once that’s finished, we’ll be on top of the world . . . or we should be.”
He didn’t look impressed. “I’m glad to hear that, sir,” he said. “Would it be another play?”
“It’s this picture I was telling you about for Mr. Gold.”
“Oh, I see, sir.” His fat face became gloomy.
I still had Merle on my mind, so I called her office. Her secretary said she had gone away for the week-end. I asked for an appointment for Monday, but she said Merle was tied up all the week. I said I would call her later.
At six o’clock, just as I was leaving to pick up Eve, Carol rang.
“Oh, Clive, I was scared I was going to miss you,” she said, her voice was tense with excitement.
“Two more minutes and you would have missed me,” I said, wondering what was coming.
“You really must come over, Clive.”
With my eye on the clock, I said it was impossible.
“But I’ve been talking to Jerry Highams about “Rain Check”,” she went on, her words stumbling over themselves. “He says Bernstien’s looking for a story. They’re both coming over to see me tonight and if you were there you might interest Bernstien in your plot. Jerry thinks it’s right for him. I told him you’d be here.”
I wondered if Carol had guessed what I was intending to do and had thought of this to prevent my seeing Eve. If Bernstien was really interested in Rain Check, it would be ridiculous to let such an opportunity slip. Bernstien was second only to Jerry Highams and he had a big reputation for slick, sophisticated pictures.
“Look, Carol,” I said, trying to sound reasonable. “I’m really tied up tonight. Can’t Bernstien see me on Monday?”
She said he had to make a decision over the week-end as Gold was getting impatient. He had two other stories he was considering, but if we all worked on him we might easily get him to do Rain Check
“It’s just his type of picture,” Carol urged. “He’ll listen to Jerry and if you’re there and can give him an outline, I’m sure he’ll go for it. Now do be sensible, Clive, this is so important.”
But so was Eve. If I put her off at the last moments I might never get the chance of taking her out again.
“I can’t do it,” I said, not bothering to keep the impatience out of my voice. “Don’t I keep telling you? I have to go out of town.”
There was a long pause and I heard Carol catch her breath in a little gasp. That told me she was losing her temper too. “What’s so important, Clive?” she asked sharply. “Don’t you want to get into pictures?”
“I am in them, sweetheart, remember?” I said. “Aren’t I working for Gold?”
Was I working for Gold? Only God and Gold knew that.
“Oh, do be sensible, Clive.” There was an edge to her voice now. “What will they think if you don’t show up?”
“That’s not my headache,” I snapped back. “I didn’t make the arrangement. You knew I was tied up, didn’t you?”
“I knew all right, but I thought your work came first. All right, Clive, have a good time,” and she hung up on me.
That made two women who were sour with me. I slammed down the receiver and then shot three inches of bourbon into a glass and swallowed it at a gulp. Then I snatched up my hat and went down to my car.
By the time I turned into Laurel Canyon Drive, the bourbon was hitting me and I felt fine. I pulled up outside Eve’s house and I flicked the horn. Then I lit a cigarette and waited. I waited exactly one minute and fifteen seconds which brought the hands of the dashboard clock to six-thirty. Then Eve came out of the house.
When I saw her, I was out of the car and opening the white gate for her in a split second.
She was wearing a dark blue coat and skirt, a white silk shirt, no hat and under her arm, she carried a large handbag with her initials in platinum on the flap. That does not sound anything unusual, but if you could have seen the cut of that costume you would have stared as I was staring. Its severity and the way it was moulded to her trim figure made it the smartest outfit I had seen on a woman for a long time.
Then I noticed her legs. In Hollywood, legs are just commonplace. Ugly looking legs are as rare as natural platinum blondes. But Eve’s legs meant something. They were not only pretty and neat and beautifully hosed, but they had a distinct personality of their own.
I realized with a shock of startled pleasure that I had a smart, sophisticated, well-groomed woman on my hands. Nor did she look plain. She was carefully made-up . . . not too much . . . and her eyes were bright.
“Hello there,” I said, taking her hand. “Are you always so punctual?”
She pulled her hand away as she asked, “Do I look all right?”
I opened the car door, but she made no move to get in. She stood frowning at me, her even teeth nervously chewing her underlip.
“You look terrific,” I said, smiling at her. “Smart as paint. That costume’s a knock out’
“Don’t lie,” she said sharply, although her frown went away. “You know you’re just saying that.”
“No kidding. What are you waiting for . . . get in. If I’d’ve known you were going to look as good as this, I’d’ve been here yesterday.”
She got into the car. Her skirt was so tight that it rode up as she settled down on the springy cushions. I took my time closing the door.
“Did anyone tell you that you’ve a swell pair of eyes?” I said, grinning down at her.
She hurriedly adjusted her skirt. “Now behave, Clive,” she said, with a little giggle.