Part 23 (1/2)
”What's so funny, then?”
”Nothing,” she said, pus.h.i.+ng her chin to her collarbone in a losing effort not to smile.
Tony glanced over at Ozzie. ”Don't tell me our lugubrious host has ensnared you in his web.”
”What makes you say that?”
”I imagine you've heard the stories.”
”No.”
”Bit of a stickman. Not all of us can have as uncheckered a past as you, my darling. And I don't blame you for falling in love with him, by the way. You wouldn't be the first. After all, a pretty young china doll like you, someone really ought to be digging down to tickle those warm tender bits beneath your icy crust.”
Meredith frowned and made a motion to turn away. ”You're drunk,” she said, and searched for something worse. ”And mean.”
”Perhaps.” Tony grinned. ”But if you do decide to let him tickle your bits, just mind you don't get in the way of you-know-who.”
”Who?”
”You may be Canadian, darling, but you won't fool me into thinking you're completely stupid.”
”I honestly have no idea what or who you're talking about.”
”His main squeeze.” Tony, who never seemed to care who overheard him talking about what, lowered his head and his voice. ”Kathleen Swain. The actress.”
Meredith snapped upright. ”I'm aware of Kathleen Swain, thanks.” She sliced into her peach and hit the stone. ”Are they...together?” She posed the question without looking up.
An observant sort of drunk, Tony could see she was pretending not to care. Like all journalists, he was incapable of retaining sensitive information, particularly when presented with an audience.
”Not in the conventional sense. But in the universal sense, most definitely.”
”Universal sense?”
”In that they are bound to each other forever. Their fates miserably and inevitably intertwined.” Tony lowered his head again and pursed his lips. ”I really shouldn't say.”
”For G.o.d's sake.”
Tony lowered his chin and his pupils slid toward the wall. Hanging above the sideboard was a gilt-framed poster for Osmond's first movie, Silver Dollar Shooter. Kathleen Swain leaned barefoot and on a dusty saloon door. She was just a kid.
”You know the story of how she got the part,” Tony said. He added a superior upward flick of his chin to indicate he knew full well she didn't and he did.
”More wine?” Meredith refilled his gla.s.s.
Tony leaned back and took in the rest of the table to see if any of the other guests were listening to what he was about to say. They weren't. Meredith sighed.
”So how did it happen?”
His eyebrows leapt up, pulling his whole face with them. ”It was a case of biological blackmail.”
Meredith's ears went hot and her stomach lurched. ”They were having an affair,” Tony continued. ”It all started in the early eigh-ties in Los Angeles. Kathleen was a c.o.c.ktail waitress at the hotel bar where Crouch-then Cruchinsky-was a regular. It was a hooker hangout, but she wasn't a hooker. Not exactly. She was just an ambitious tart who occasionally f.u.c.ked old men for presents.”
”Or parts?” said Meredith.
”I'm getting there,” Tony snapped. ”Pour me another drop, would you? I'm parched.”
”Did they fall in love?” Meredith pa.s.sed the bottle.
Tony laughed, gargling his wine. ”Perhaps more to the point they fell into whatever European-p.o.r.n-distributing B-movie producers and cheap-lingerie-model-slash-c.o.c.ktail-waitress-slash-aspiring-actresses?having-casual-s.e.x-in-the-eighties fall into. Unfortunately for Kathleen, she fell harder than Ozzie. When she found out she was pregnant-accidentally, of course”-Tony rolled his eyes at the notion-”she was surprised to find her sugar daddy was less than thrilled about the prospect of starting a family with a bit of tacky Kansas tottie. He suggested an abortion. She was dead set against it. What she didn't know-what Osmond conveniently hadn't yet told her-was that everything was about to change for him.”
Meredith spit out her peach pit. ”Why?”
”He'd lately managed to get a hold of what everyone in Hollywood had been searching for since the motion picture was invented: a decent script. It was just what audiences wanted, only they didn't know it yet. A big-budget Western epic. The green light, as they say, had been lit. All he needed now was a love interest. Someone fresh and s.e.xy and new. The studio preferred blondes. They were going to hold an open casting.”
Meredith opened her mouth and Tony held up his finger. ”And there was no chance he was going to hire Kathleen. Naturally, when she found out, there was h.e.l.l to pay.”
”Why wouldn't he cast her?”
”Who knows?” Tony shrugged. ”She was probably crazy. Or at the very least driving him crazy-she's a b.l.o.o.d.y actress after all.”
”But she was perfect in that role.” Meredith glanced up at the poster. ”The hooker with the heart of gold.”
”Hindsight, darling. Hindsight.” Tony picked a bit of Chianti-stained skin off his lip and flicked it to the floor.
”So how did she convince him?”
He examined her incredulously. ”You really have to ask? I thought you were brighter than that.”
Meredith took a slow sip of soda and choked. ”No-she didn't.”
”Ah yes, but she did,” Tony smiled.
Her firstborn for stardom. Meredith s.h.i.+vered. She thought of Kathleen. Her plumped-up pout and trailer tantrums. No wonder.
Tony sat back in his chair and drained his gla.s.s with a bullfighter's flourish. He poured Meredith more wine and this time she took it.
”How do you know all this stuff?”
”I have my sources,” Tony said smugly.
”How do you know Osmond?”
”A more apt question would be, How am I useful to Osmond?”
”Fine,” Meredith said, ”how then?”
”A man in Osmond Crouch's position needs information, and I happen to be possessed of a great deal of information. I take care of him and he takes care of me.”
It all sounded a bit ridiculous to Meredith. She could see Tony wanted to be pressed for details. She wouldn't give him the pleasure.
”The question is,” Tony said, ”what's your connection to all this?”