Part 38 (2/2)

Peter looked at him, relief showing on his face. ”We'll put Gordon in charge, then.”

”Yeanh,” Johnny answered. ”I've watched him. He's a worker.”

They were silent again as the car rolled through the gates and stopped in front of the administration building. They got out of the car and Johnny followed Peter into his office. In the office Peter turned to him. His voice was humble. ”I guess you'll have to hustle back to New York right away if we get that loan. We'll have to keep after business to make that seventy-five every week.”

Johnny looked at him. He didn't answer. He walked over to a window and looked out. From the window he could see a truck rolling over to Stage Number One.

Peter walked over and stood beside him looking out. ”You've done everything here that needed to be done. I'll be able to manage all right now. We need you back in New York to make sure things will be all right.”

”What about Dulcie?” The words sprang bitterly from Johnny's lips.

Peter looked at him uncomfortably. It was a shame to break up their honeymoon. They had been married just a little over a month. He walked back to his desk and sat down. ”I'll look after her,” he said awkwardly. ”I'll send her back as soon as the picture is finished.”

Johnny walked over to the desk and looked down at him. He knew there wasn't anything he could do about it. The picture had been working two weeks already and too much money had gone into it to be thrown away. Besides, Peter was right. If they got this loan he had to return to New York. They couldn't take any chances, having to pay out seventy-five thousand every week.

He looked down at Peter. ”Remind me not to bring any of my wives out here in the future,” he said angrily. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. It wasn't Peter's fault. It was this crazy business. You never knew what was going to happen next.

12.

”Rock!” His voice seemed to echo in the lighted apartment. He stood there listening for an answer, a puzzled look on his face. There was no answer.

He turned and went back into the hall and brought in his valise. He closed the door behind him and, valise still in hand, walked to Rocco's room and opened the door. ”Rock,” he called softly.

There was no answer. He turned on the light. The room was empty.

He carried the valise to his room and put it on the bed. Rocco wasn't home. Strange. Maybe Jane forgot to tell him about the wire he had sent, but no, Jane wouldn't forget. He wondered where Rocco had gone.

Still puzzled, he took off his hat and coat and began to unpack. The first thing he took out was a photograph of Dulcie, which he placed on the dresser, and then he stood back smiling fondly.

It had been taken by one of the still photographers out at the studio just a few days ago. It was a good photograph, bringing out the depth of her eyes, the attractive curve of her lips over the even white teeth, and the careless line of her hair falling down to her shoulders.

Good kid, he thought as he turned back to his unpacking. She had been upset over his having to leave so suddenly. She wanted to quit the picture. He smiled to himself as he thought of how he had had to argue to persuade her to stay on while he went back. A few weeks before, she wanted to make the picture more than anything in the world and he didn't want her to. Now she wanted to quit and he had to persuade her to stay with it.

She had no idea of how much there was involved once a picture got under way. It wasn't only the money, he had told her, there were a lot of other things too. The people that worked with her would suffer if she pulled out. What really convinced her was what he said about pictures being like the theater. The-show-must-go-on business and all that kind of c.r.a.p. He remembered the way her face had lighted up. She could understand that. Not for nothing had her family been in the theater for so long.

Her face smiled warmly at him from the photo on the dresser, where it leaned against the mirror. He smiled back at it. Good kid. He'd have to get a frame for it in the morning. He'd do it before he went into the office. She deserved it. She had even cried a little before he left. She had tried to hide it from him, but he had noticed it. He felt good remembering it.

His unpacking was done. He straightened up and began to take off his s.h.i.+rt. Unconsciously he glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch. It was after two in the morning. His brows knitted together. Where the h.e.l.l was Rocco?

Suddenly he laughed aloud. ”You're getting to be a regular old woman,” he told himself accusingly. ”A guy's ent.i.tled to have some fun out of life.”

He finished undressing and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out he put on his pajamas and sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his leg. He paused for a moment. He felt uncomfortable. Alone.

He looked over at the clock on the night table. It was nearing three o'clock. Maybe Rock had left a note for him in his room. He got up and walked back to Rocco's room.

The light was still on; he had forgotten to turn it off. He walked into the center of the room and looked around. No note. Acting on impulse, he pulled open a dresser drawer. It was empty. He pulled open the other drawers. They were empty too.

He turned and walked over to the closet and looked in. Rocco's clothes were gone. He shut the door slowly and walked out of the room thoughtfully. Where had Rock gone and why hadn't he told him, he wondered.

Rocco couldn't tell him, he remembered; they hadn't spoken to each other since they had parted that night in California, and when he had called New York he had had no occasion to speak with him. He lit a cigarette and sat down on the edge of his bed.

It was strange not having Rocco around. The apartment seemed empty without him. It was almost lonely.

Suddenly he brightened up. That was the answer. Of course, Rocco had thought he would return with Dulcie, and that was why he had moved out. Silly of him not to think of it before. It was like Rock to do something like that.

He smiled to himself as he put out the cigarette. He would tell the guy off when he saw him in the morning down at the office. What was the idea of worrying him half to death?

He loosened the straps that held the leg in place and lay down on the bed. He reached over and turned off the light. For a long time he lay there in the dark staring upward in the room. He would miss having Rock around all the time. Dulcie's face intruded on his thoughts. ”h.e.l.l, you can't have everything,” he thought as he drifted off into slumber.

But all the same he slept restlessly. There was a feeling of being alone in the world that haunted him even in his sleep. Strange that Dulcie's face in his dreams didn't drive that feeling away.

He walked into the office briskly. ”Good morning, Janey,” he said, smiling.

She got up from her desk and ran over to him. She held out her hand. ”So you went and done it.” She laughed with mock seriousness. ”You got away from me, dammit.”

He laughed aloud. He looked pleased as he took her hand. ”Is that the way you talk to your boss when he gets married?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment. Her eyes were still laughing as she pretended to look behind him. ”Well, the coast seems clear enough,” she said. ”I don't see your wife around. I guess I could kiss you.”

He still held her hand. ”I guess you could,” he nodded.

She kissed his lips swiftly and then looked up at him. Her gaze was serious now. ”Good luck, Johnny,” she said sincerely. ”I hope you'll be very happy.”

”I will be,” he said confidently, ”I'm a very lucky guy.” He took off his hat and coat, gave them to her, and walked to the door of his office. He looked back at her. ”Tell Rock to see me when he comes in,” he said, still smiling. ”I got something to tell that guy.”

She nodded as she hung up his coat, and he disappeared into his office.

He sat down at his desk. The mail was spread out before him. He began to look through it. His phone rang. He picked it up.

”Irving Bannon wants to talk to you,” Jane's voice said.

”Okay,” he answered. ”Put him on.” He heard the click of the phone. ”h.e.l.lo, Irv.”

”Johnny, you old son of a b.i.t.c.h, you been holding out on us.” Irving's voice was effusive.

Johnny smiled into the phone. He supposed he would have to listen to this all day. He might as well get set to expect it. ”I wasn't, Irving,” he said. ”It was as much a surprise to me as anybody.”

<script>