Chapter 14

Jack liked the primrose path; he felt all keyed up taking Ninon on a shopping spree. Unlike his spouse, Gail, she was modest in her desires, asking each time as the sales lady quoted the price of a dress or hat she liked, "May I have it, Jack? Or should I look for something cheaper?"

Now it was one p.m., and they sat in a little restaurant off Hollywood Boulevard, two huge boxes separating them. Ninon had not wanted to part with her new treasures; she would take them to her place in a taxi.

"It's a good thing I don't have to report for work today," she sighed, her hand brushing over the soft silk of the new burgundy dress that moulded her breast delightfully.

Jack smiled at the animated face beneath the little feathery nothing of a hat. She was a mere child, so easy to please. "Now Ninon, I shall be busy for the rest of the day-and evening." He saw the look in her eyes-sadness tinged with sarcasm. He patted her hand on the banquette. "I'm not shoving you out of my life. But you know that I'm here on business, and my associate is entertaining me at his home. But tomorrow night nothing shall interfere. It will give you time to rest."

"You sure you don't want a change?"

"A change of what?"

"A change of girl, I meant. Most men play the field."

"Not this man, Ninon. I consider myself lucky to have found a sweet girl like you."

"Want me to call you at your hotel tomorrow evening?" Her voice was full of doubt as were her eyes.

"We could make a date right now for you to come up to the suite ... Or, maybe it would be better if you phone me after six."

At die corner, he kissed her shamelessly in full view of some grinning spectators, before she got into the cab. He felt wonderful, years had slipped off his shoulders. Hading another taxi, he was ready for work with a clear head and a body light as air.

At six o'clock Tom Sweeney drove him home to his pleasant white stucco villa in the hills.

"Too bad your wife couldn't come with you," Mary Sweeney's soft brown eyes matched her dark blonde hair.

Jack noticed the excellent taste of her home which was well run. Dinner was exquisite. Now they were having coffee and brandy on the open terrace overlooking the slopes with gay cubes of houses buried in dark green. Lights ran like jeweled ribbons down to the ocean far below. The air was balmy and slightly perfumed.

As Mary went inside, Tom chuckled. "I bet you had yourself a high time last night. Interesting hunting ground, the Can Can, eh?"

Jack felt in a confiding mood; he knew he could trust Tom Sweeney. "Fact is, I had myself a wonderful time-for the first time in a long time. Met a really sweet girl. One who hasn't gone Hollywood. Apprecitative."

"You don't say. I thought that type had traveled Fast. Beware of the sweet ones, they can dig for gold where others find only stones...."A greedy look stole into his eyes. "You going to meet her later?"

"Tonight I reserved for you, Tom. But I'll see Ninon tomorrow. She's an extra in a movie. You probably know more about it than I do-Seed of Hate."

"Indeed I do-that is, Mary met some of the Lance studio crowd. They're the ones making the movie. Mary gets around more than I do; she makes it her business to meet all the big ones. Thinks it might help my business."

"You see, Tom, I'm not just another husband on the town. My marriage is all washed up...." He closed his eyes seeing Gail and her paramour in tight embrace. "I caught her-my wife-with another man ... Oh, it had been going on for quite some time. I was too busy-or too stupid to see it.

So, I'm catching up on my playing."

"Too bad. I hope it didn't cut too deep."

"I'm over it. Just got my ego blasted , ... And when I get back I hope she'll be gone, as I ordered her."

"You two better move, inside; it's going to pour." Mary stood in the door watching black clouds chasing the moon. "Tom catches cold so easily." She hooked her arm into her husband's and they all went inside.

They watched TV and had a few mo re drinks. Jack was intrigued by the crowded book shelves taking up one wall. He walked up to them. Mary right behind him.

"I'm an avid reader; helps to pass the time while Tom's away on business. Here, on that lower shelf are the latest books out. Care to take a couple with you to your hotel?"

"Why thank you, Mary, but I sincerely doubt I'll have time." He looked over the gay covers, pulling one out at random, putting it back. "Fact is, I'd like to get a copy of Seed of Hate, the movie that is being made at Lance studios. You don't happen to-"

"But of course." Mary pulled out a yellow and red bound tome. "I just finished reading it. Quite good, especially for a first novel. Here, take it with you."

After another half hour of lagging conversation Tom drove Jack back to the hotel.

"See you tomorrow at ten at the office I hope you won't be too lonesome."

The lobby was a bee-hive of activity. Bunches of people stood about in animated conversation; couples were lounging on settees garbed in evening clothes. Laughter hit his ears. His watch showed only eleven. He made his way to the bar; a night cap seemed in order. He had to stand up, every bar stool was taken. Drink in hand, his eyes wandered down the length of the bar and from there to the booths intimately lit by artful lamps. In the booth nearest to him sat a beautiful girl; her red hair waved down to her shoulders; two blue eyes smiled intimately at him. At him? He frowned, looked again. There could be no doubt, for now the girl waved a blue silken arm at him. He walked up to the booth.

"Oh, hello Jim, so glad you're here." A hand drew him down on the bench beside her and a voice whispered. "Please say hello, and act as if you knew me." Her beseeching eyes confused him. He inhaled her intoxicating perfume, stared at the young pale face with the large, violently painted mouth.

"Hello dear," he forced a smile to his lips and leaned back against the wooden partition. "Sorry I'm late." The waiter stood at their table. "What are you drinking, dear?"

"Scotch on the rocks," said her husky voice.

"Make mine the same." The waiter shuffled away and Jack put down his rain coat, feeling the bulk of the book Mary had stuffed into the large pocket. He frowned at the girl; he didn't want any more company tonight.

But she is beautiful, he thought, taking in the fine oval of her face in which the eyes burned blue-I black. Her midnight blue silk gown was low-cut showing the deep cleft between the full breasts. She wore no jewelry. Needed none.

They stared at each other wordlessly. Finally, she broke the silence. "Thanks," she said. "You are the gentleman you look. And I appreciate your helping me out." Her full lower lip trembled. "I-I was stranded-not even a buck in my purse." Her long lashes hid her eyes. "I was stood up. I should have known better than to hope Jerry would come through ... You see," her voice faltered on the brink of tears, "Jerry's my ex. He owes me money-and he promised to show and pay up."

Jack's voice was cool. Did he look like a sucker? "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"Oh now, don't get mad. I've had only one drink. If you'll pay for it I shall be most grateful." Now the tear-drenched eyes implored.

"Okay lady, stop the tears. We'll have a couple of drinks and you can invent a nice little tale of sorrow. Only make it short for I need to get some sleep."

She opened her purse and took out a spidery handkerchief, patting her eyes. "Thanks, you're swell. And I won't have to invent a story. Mine is sad enough. I'm a dancer, that is, I was till last night when that louse-my ex-turned up at the Lotus where I worked in the chorus and created a riot. Ergo, I was fired. Tomorrow I can collect my pay and start looking for another spot."

The waiter brought their drinks and they sipped in silence. The more Jack looked at the girl the more he liked what he saw. The full bosom outlined beneath the tight silk, the graceful fingers that toyed with the glass.

"A girl like you should have no trouble finding another boy friend," he said, itching to touch the red, shining hair.

"I don't want just any man. You kind of appealed to me. Nice and solid. No phony."

Yes, that's my trademark, nice and solid, he thought, and the thought made him smile.

He was about to order another round of drinks when she said. "Would you mind if I ordered a sandwich instead? I haven't eaten since last night."

He watched her wolf down the roast beef sandwich and wash it down with a cup of coffee. Now she looked up, a wide smile on her face.

"That was wonderful. Thanks. You know, most girls I know hit the bottle when they're down. Me, I get hungry ... Say," her deep-blue eyes bored into his face, "I bet you've got a wife in town. I wouldn't want to cause trouble ... If you want me to I can leave right now."

"No wife, and no one's waiting. Do you live nearby?" He wasn't really interested, just making conversation.

Her mouth sagged. "Till tomorrow-till I get my pay I-I don't live anywhere."

Did she expect him to fork out money for a place to sleep? She seemed to guess his thoughts.

"Don't worry, you have done your good deed. And I'll be going." She drew the blue coat about her shoulders and picked up her purse.

He never knew what made him say it.

"Just for tonight, and if you promise to leave early, you can sleep on the couch in my suite. I live in this hotel."

Her eyes looked like blue stars. She gripped his right hand and clutched it to her soft breast. "Mister, you saved my life. And I'm grateful. Oh," now she smiled, "name's Ann O'Malley."

"Just call me Jack," he said, paying the bill, angry at himself. What in the world made him do this?

But later, up in the suite, as Ann emerged from the bathroom looking like a foam-born Venus, her red hair dripping down her alabaster shoulders, he felt elated. This was his time to play, to sample and enjoy what he had missed. She was a full blown woman; her proudly erect breasts were like huge snow balls dotted by rose cones. Her hips were lyre-shaped, with the legs long and slim. As she walked toward him her breasts moved rhythmically. She kissed him hungrily and lifted her left breast for his caress. "I hope you like diem big."

In her white arms he forgot all about Gail, his faithless wife, and even the image of Ninon paled. She was full of fire and the big white body was bursting with vitality that stirred his passion. He kissed the big, soft breasts and caressed the resilient flesh of her thighs, fascinated by her small waistline.

Dizzy, his head on fire, he threw himself over the white figure now resting on the bed. He felt like one demented, starved, one who could never get enough. He tweaked her bottom, kissed her throat and sighed deeply as his head came to rest on the softest pillow.

He felt himself beset by a frenzy never before experienced; like a glutton he nibbled, savoured the alabaster richness, kissing her all over, pinching, digging his fingers into silken flesh.

As he now took possession she moaned low in her throat. This time it was different. She didn't just lie there, being possessed. She loved him back, She twisted and moved, met his rhythm, her eyes aflame, breasts bouncing. Her hands pressed him closer to her softness.

"Faster," she moaned, and he obliged, riding the wild mare, wanting to tame her, finally surrendering his strength with one final, shuddering thrust.

He slept like a baby, holding on to her breast, waking up as a stray ray of sun hit his cheek. His hand shot out ... She wasn't there. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. As he looked up he saw her all dressed, bending over. She was going through the pockets of his jacket, a sheepish expression on her crimson face as she met his eyes.

"I-I just wanted to hang it up in the closet," she said, straightening up. Her face was hard.

"You don't have to steal from me." His tone was icy. "Serves me right to take up with a whore." He lifted the jacket and extricated the wallet from the inside pocket, going through it carefully while she watched, her face tight. The money was all there. He lifted out a twenty and threw it on the floor. "Here, for services rendered. And you better go. Right now."

She picked up the bill, took her coat and stared at him, full of hate, "Thanks, sucker!" She ran to the door, opened it and was gone before he could say another word.

Jack sat down on the chair and laughed till the tears came. He couldn't stop laughing, He was a sucker, and it served him right. Hje stared at the rain coat on the floor and bent to pick it up. The book Mary had loaned him fell out. His eyes stared at the author's photograph on the back of the jacket. It was Myra!