"All right." Jennie laughed. "You've twisted my arm."
"And you'll have a chance to show off your engagement ring. I hear it's a real smasher."
Jennie held out her hand and the diamond winked at her. "It's very nice," she said.
"Bernie is yelling for his dinner. I’ll call you at home tonight and we'll make the arrangements."
"Thanks, Rosa. 'By."
There was a strange car parked in the driveway when she got home from the studio that night. She drove into the garage and entered the house through the back door. If it was another reporter, she didn't want to see him. The Mexican woman was in the kitchen. "A Senor Pierce is in the living room, senorita.
What could he want, she wondered. Perhaps he hadn't received the script yet and had dropped by for it. Pierce was seated in a deep chair, a copy of the script open on his lap. He got to his feet and nodded. "Miss Denton."
"Mr. Pierce. Did you get the script? I sent it out several days ago."
He smiled. "I got it. But I thought perhaps we might discuss it further. I'm hoping I can talk you into changing your mind."
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
"Before we talk about it," he said quickly, "may I offer my congratulations on your engagement?"
"Thank you. But now I must ask you to excuse me. I do have an appointment."
"I'll only take a few minutes of your time." He bent over and picked up a small carrying case that had been lying on the floor behind the chair.
"But; really, Mr. Pierce- "
"I'll only be a few minutes." There was a peculiar sureness in his voice. It was as if he knew she would not dare to refuse him. He pressed a button and the top of the carrying case popped open. "Do you know what this is, Miss Denton?" he asked.
She didn't answer. She was beginning to get angry. If this was his idea of a joke, she wasn't going to like it. "It's an eight-millimeter projector," he said in a conversational tone, as he snapped on a lens. "The kind ordinarily used for the showing of home movies."
"Very interesting. But I hardly see what it has to do with me."
"You will," he promised, looking up. His eyes were cold. He turned, looking for an electrical outlet. He found one against the wall behind the chair and swiftly plugged the cord from the projector into it.
"I think that white wall across from you will do very well for a screen, don't you?" He turned the projector toward it and flicked a switch. "I took the liberty of putting on the reel of film before I came here."
The whir of film sounded and Jennie turned to watch the picture being thrown against the wall. The scene showed two naked girls on a couch, their arms around each other, their faces hidden. A warning bell echoed in her mind. There was something curiously familiar about the scene.
"I got this film from a friend of mine in New Orleans." Pierce's voice came casually from behind her as a man walked into the scene. He, too, was nude and one of the girls turned toward him, facing directly into the camera.
Unconsciously Jennie let out a gasp. The girl was herself. Then she remembered. It had been that time in New Orleans. She turned to stare at Dan Pierce, her face white.
"You were photogenic even then. You should have made sure there was no camera."
"There wasn't any," she gasped. "Aida would never have permitted it." She stared at him silently, her mouth and throat suddenly dry.
He pressed a switch and as the film stopped, the light faded. "I can see you're not very interested in home movies."
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You." He began to close up the machine. "But not in the usual sense," he added quickly. "I want you to play Aphrodite."
"And if I don't choose to?"
"You're lovely, you're a star, you're engaged," he said casually. "You might not be any of the three if this film should happen to fall into the wrong hands. Together with a summary of your professional activities." His cold eyes flashed at her. "No man, even one as crazy as Jonas Cord, wants to marry the town whore."
"I'm under contract to Norman. My contract doesn't allow me to make any outside pictures."
"I know," Dan said calmly. "But I'm sure Cord would authorize the purchase of this script if you asked him. Bonner will make the picture."
"What if he won't? Jonas has pretty definite ideas about pictures."
A faint smile came to his lips. "Then, make him change them."
She drew in her breath slowly. "And if I do?"
"Why, then you get the film, of course."
"The negative, too?"
He nodded.
"How do I know that there are no dupes?"
His eyebrows went up approvingly. "I see you've learned," he said. "I paid five thousand dollars for that little can of film. And I wouldn't have done that if I hadn't been sure there were no other copies. Besides, why kill the goose? We may want to do business together again sometime."
He packed up the projector. "I’ll leave the script with you."
She didn't answer.
He turned, his hand on the door, and looked back. "I told you I'd only be a few minutes," he said.
15
Dan Pierce got to his feet, rapping his cup with a tiny spoon. He surveyed the table owlishly. He was drunk, happy drunk, as much on success as on the Scotch whisky he had so generously imbibed.
He nodded his head as they all looked up at him. "Dan Pierce doesn't forget who his friends are. He does things righ'. I brought the engaged couple each a presen'." He turned, snapping his fingers.
"Yes, Mr. Pierce," the maitre d' said quickly. He gestured and a waiter came up with two packages, looked down at the tag on each and deposited the large gold-wrapped box in front of Jonas, the smaller silver-wrapped package by Jennie.
"Thank you, Dan," Jonas said.
"Open it up, Jonas," Dan said drunkenly. "I wan' ev'ybody to see the presents."
Jennie felt a strange foreboding. "We'll open them later, Dan."
"No," he said insistently. "Now."
She looked around the table. They were all watching curiously. She looked at Jonas. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her. She started to open her gift. It was wrapped so tight, she reached for a knife to cut it just as Jonas finished taking the wrapping from his. "Hey," Jonas said, laughing, as he held it up for all to see. "A magnum of champagne!"
Her present was in a small but beautifully inlaid mahogany case. She opened it and stared down, feeling the color drain from her face. Jonas took the case from her hands and held it up for everyone to see. "It's a set of English razors," he said and grinned at Dan. "The waiter must have got the labels mixed. Thanks again, Dan."
Abruptly Pierce sat down. He was smiling.
Jennie felt them all watching her. She raised her head and looked around the table. It was as if she knew what they were thinking. Of the twelve other couples seated around the large table, she had known five of the men before she'd made the test. Irving Schwartz, Bonner, three others, who were top-ranking executives with other companies. The other seven men all knew. Some of their wives, too. She could see it in their eyes. In only two of the men could she see any sympathy. David and Nevada Smith.
David she could understand. But she did not understand why Nevada should feel sorry for her. He scarcely knew her. He had always seemed so quiet, even shy, when they met at the studio. But now there was a wild sort of anger deep in his black Indian eyes as he looked from her to Dan Pierce.
Thirteen men, she thought and all but one of them knew her for what she'd been. And the thirteenth was the unlucky one. He was going to marry her. She felt a light touch on her arm. Rosa's voice broke the silence that threatened to engulf her. "I think it's about time we went to the little girl's room."
Jennie nodded dumbly and followed her from the table silently. She could feel the eyes of other diners following her. Without even returning their glances, she recognized several other men she had known and saw their wise, knowing smiles. She began to feel sick. Rosa drew the curtain in front of the small alcove in the corner as Jennie sank silently onto the couch. Rosa lit a cigarette and handed it to her.