"Well, if it isn't Russia's best friend," Dallie replied.
Gerry lowered the hand he had been extending for a shake. "That line's starting to wear thin."
"You're a real bastard, you know that, Jaffe?" Dallie said slowly, not seeing any need for preliminaries.
Gerry had a hot temper of his own, but he managed to turn his back on Dallie and begin walking off down the street. Dallie, however, had no intention of letting him get away so easily, not when Holly Grace's happiness was at stake. For some reason she wanted this guy, and he just might be able to give her a shot at having him.
He began to move forward and soon fell in step next to Gerry. It was dark and there were few people on the street. Garbage cans lined the curb. They passed the grate-covered windows of a bakery and a jeweler.
Gerry picked up his pace. "Why don't you go play with your golf balls?" he said.
"As a matter of fact, I was just stopping by to have a little talk with you before I went to see Holly Grace." It was a lie. Dallie had no intention of seeing Holly Grace that night. "Do you want me to give
her your regards?"
Gerry stopped walking. The glow from a streetlight fell on his face. "I want you to stay away from Holly Grace."
Dallie still had yesterday's defeat on his mind, and he wasn't in the mood for subtlety, so he went in for
a swift, merciful kill. "Now, that would be kind of hard for me to do. It's just about impossible to get a woman good and pregnant if you're not right there on top of the job."
Gerry's eyes turned black. His hand shot out and he grabbed the front of Dallie's sport coat. "You tell
me right now what you're talking about."
"She's determined to have a baby, is all," Dallie said, not making any attempt to get away, "and only
one of us seems to be man enough to do the job."
Gerry's olive skin paled as he released Dallie's jacket. "You fucking son of a bitch."
Dallie's answering drawl was soft and menacing. "Fucking is something I'm real good at, Jaffe."
Gerry ended two decades of dedicated nonviolence by drawing back his fist and slamming it into Dallie's chest. Gerry wasn't much of a fighter and Dallie saw the blow coming, but he decided to let Jaffe have
his one shot because he knew damn well he wasn't going to give him another. Righting himself, Dallie started back toward Gerry. Holly Grace could have this son of a bitch if she wanted him, but first he
was going to rearrange his face.
Gerry stood with his arms at his sides, his chest heaving, and watched Dallie coming at him. When Dallie's fist caught him in the jaw, he flew across the sidewalk and banged into the garbage cans,
sending them clattering out into the street. A man and woman coming down the sidewalk saw the fight and rapidly turned back. Gerry got up slowly, lifting the back of his hand to wipe the blood that was flowing from his lip.
Then he turned and began to walk away.
"Fight me, you son of a bitch," Dallie called after him.
"I won't fight," Gerry called back.
"Well, now, aren't you a prime example of American manhood? Come on and fight. I'll give you another free punch."
Gerry kept walking. "I shouldn't have hit you in the first place, and I won't do it again."
Dallie rapidly closed the distance between them, jerking Gerry around by his shoulder. "For Christ's sake, I just told you I was getting ready to knock up Holly Grace!"
Gerry's fists clenched at his side, but he didn't move.
Dallie grabbed the front of Gerry's bomber jacket and pushed him against a light post. "What the hell's wrong with you? I'd have fought an army for that woman. Can't you even fight one person?"
Gerry looked at him contemptuously. "Is that the only way you know how to solve a problem? With
your fists?"
"At least I try to solve my problems. All you've done is make her miserable."
"You don't know jackshit, Beaudine. I've been trying for weeks to talk to her, but she won't see me.
The last time I managed to get past the guards at ihe studio, she called the cops on me."
"Did she, now?" Dallie smiled unpleasantly and slowly let go of Gerry's jacket. "You know something?
I don't like you, Jaffe. I don't like people who act like they have all the answers. Most of all, I don't like smug do-gooders who make all kinds of noble noises about saving the world but screw over the people who care about them."
Gerry was breathing harder than Dallie, and he had trouble getting out his words. "This doesn't have anything to do with you."
"Anybody who gets tangled up in Holly Grace's life sooner or later runs into me. She wants a baby,
and for some reason that I sure as hell can't figure out, she wants you, too."
Gerry leaned back against the light post. For a moment his head dropped, and then he lifted it again, his eyes dark with misery. "Tell me why it's such a goddamn crime not to want to bring a kid into this world. Why does she have to be so stubborn? Why can't it just be the two of us?"
Gerry's obvious pain touched Dallie, but he did his best to ignore it. "She wants a baby, is all."
"I'd be the worst father in the world. I don't know anything about being a father."
Dallie's laugh was soft and bitter. "You think any of us do?"
"Listen, Beaudine. I've had enough of people nagging me about this. First Holly Grace, then my sister, and then Francesca. Now you're on my case, too. Well, it's none of your goddamn business, do you understand me? This is between Holly Grace and me."
"Answer a question for me, Jaffe," Dallie said slowly.
"How are you going to go about living the rest of your life knowing that you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away?"
"Don't you think I'm trying to get through to her?" Jaffe cried out. "She won't even talk to me, you
crazy son of a bitch! I can't even get into the same room with her."
"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."
Gerry's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "Just leave me the hell alone. And stay away from Holly Grace. The two of you are old worn-out history, and if you even think about touching her, I'll come
after you, do you understand me?"
"I'm trembling in my boots," Dailie replied with deliberate insolence.
Gerry looked him straight in the eye and there was such menace on the man's face that Dailie actually experienced a moment of grudging respect.
"Don't underestimate me, Beaudine," Gerry said, his tone flat and hard. He held Dallie's gaze for several long moments without flinching, and then he walked away.
Dailie stood watching him for a while; then he headed back down the sidewalk. As he stepped off the curb to hail a cab, a faint, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Francesca had agreed to meet Dallie at nine o'clock at a neighborhood restaurant they both liked that served southwestern food. She slipped into a black cashmere T-shirt and zebra-patterned slacks. Impulsively, she fastened a pair of wildly asymmetrical silver earrings to her earlobes, taking devilish pleasure in wearing something outrageous to tease him. It had been a week since she had seen him, and she was in the mood to celebrate. Her agent had concluded nearly three months of difficult negotiations and the network had finally given in. Beginning in June, "Francesca Today" would be a monthly special instead of a weekly series.
When she arrived at the restaurant, she saw Dailie sitting in a high-backed booth at the rear away from the crowd. Spotting her, he stood and for a fraction of a moment, a puppy dog grin flashed over his face, an expression more appropriate to a teenage boy than a grown man. Her heart gave a queer thump in response.
"Hey, honey."
"Hey, Dallie."
She had attracted a great deal of attention as she walked through the restaurant, so he gave her only the briefest of kisses when she reached him. As soon as she sat, however, he leaned across the table and did the job right. "Damn, Francie, it's good to see you."