A Half Dozen Fools Page 13

But when he looked at her, she wondered if this was really true.

  * * * *

  Elyse bumped smack into Keb on his way out of the coffee shop.

  "Whoa! Hey, there, Elyse! How are you, girl?"

  "Keb! I'm fine. How about you? I've been wondering where in heck you've been!"

  A quick catch-up informed Elyse of what she'd already learned from Malcolm.

  "I didn't realize you were such a big cheese before," she exclaimed. "Manager over all forty stores--wow, I'm impressed!"

  "I'm not the manager, per se. If anything, more like a temporary director, overseeing business. Just doing my uncle a favor, really. But what about you? How's the job going?"

  "I'm still underpaid and underappreciated, at the Make-Up Place. But good things are on the horizon."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes! I have this friend... Well, I guess you'd call him that. Anyway, he's on a really successful television show, and he's helping me break in to do makeup for TV."

  "Well, good for you!"

  "Yeah! He's a great connection."

  "Which show is it?"

  "New York's Finest."

  Keb nodded. "That is a successful show. Who do you know on it?"

  "Bobby Kressner."

  Keb shot her a look. "Bobby Kressner?"

  Keb's sudden shift in energy took Elyse completely by surprise, and his excitement vanished.

  "So," he began with what sounded like suspicion, "how do you know Bobby Kressner?"

  "I met him by accident at Gotham's Comedy Club, a few months back. Through another friend, this stand-up I knew performing there."

  Intensity kindled behind Keb's eyes as their chocolaty color darkened to black. Elyse recognized this reaction as similar to the one she'd seen the first day they'd met. Quickly, she tried to remember what she'd said to him, then... Ah, yes! She'd mentioned the movie shoot outside, on Fifty-Fifth Street, something about the director. Now, however, she couldn't recall the details of their conversation.

  Keb asked, "You dating this guy?"

  Elyse thought he sounded accusatory. "Who, Bobby?"

  He shot her a look that said, "Yeah."

  "Um, yes," she said meekly."Why? Do you know him?"

  Keb drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. "Not really." Quickly, he added, "Hey, I hope it all works out for you, Elyse."

  Elyse felt as if an emotional door had just closed, but wasn't sure why.

  "I, uh, thank you, Keb. I--I, me, too."

  "Say, look--I've got to run now. You take care. Hope you grab that star you're aiming for." His gloveless hand squeezed hers in its velvet glove.

  "Thanks, Keb." She'd barely squeezed his hand back when he slipped past her. "Great seeing you again!"

  She stood mutely on the sidewalk, watching him jog back to the copy shop. Heaviness loomed large around her, and her thoughts grew foggy with the confusion of his sudden departure. When a couple of businessmen bumped into her on their way out of the coffee shop, she shook herself out of it and went inside.

  * * * *

  Elyse became frustrated with the rate at which Bobby wasn't moving on his promise to help her get work on television. At the same time, she was growing increasingly unhappy at the Make-Up Place. Between trying to sell outmoded products and the owners' lack of effort at bringing in new business, she was having a rough time making enough money.

  She'd mentioned the importance of keeping up with the latest trends several times, to both Rod and Judy. They seemed to think their products were timeless, however, and showed no interest in updating or creating new ones.

  Carla tried to set Elyse straight.

  "You never gonna make them see, preciosa. They don't want to spend no money on advertising, products, whatever. They never did! They buy everything juss like you see it, and esspect that they should keep on making money."

  And on the rare occasions when Elyse managed to snare new customers, there was no denying the place's shabby appearance. Any suggestions she made to the Hoffenzimmers about refurbishing it, however, also fell on deaf ears.

  She knew she'd have to make a change one day, but was avoiding pounding the pavement in search of new employment. And while the Fifth Avenue stores were better than the Make-Up Place, they were less desirable than breaking into television.

  She finally decided to push Bobby harder. She planned on urging him to at least introduce her to Lennie, if nothing else, and let her prove herself.

  On her day off, she decided to surprise Bobby and stop by his place after she'd gone to the gym. She figured he was studying a script, since that's what he usually did late mornings when he wasn't working on New York's Finest. She happened to know he had a big shoot at the end of the week and would, therefore, be home learning his lines. So she popped over without calling ahead and, at the lobby desk, told the doorman she was going up to surprise him.

  This doorman didn't know Elyse, however, having recently transferred from another building. He insisted on calling before she went up.

  Elyse shrugged and waited while he dialed and held the receiver an inch from his ear. She was surprised to hear a woman's voice on the other end of Bobby's line, although she couldn't make out her words. The doorman listened, nodded and hung up. In a professional tone, he informed Elyse that Bobby wasn't there, but would be back in half an hour.

  Elyse's temper flared. "'Scuse me?"

  "Sorry," the doorman said. "You can wait in the lobby if you like."

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Elyse said hotly. "Who is that up in his place?"

  The doorman shrugged. "I couldn't tell ya, miss. It's my first day at this building."

  Luckily, before Elyse burst a mental gasket, the older doorman recognized her and came over to see what was up.

  "Hey, Elyse. How are you today?"

  "I was fine until I heard a woman say Bobby isn't in his own place."

  "Oh, must be his assistant. She lets herself in if Mr. Kressner isn't back."

  "I don't think I realized she has keys to his place."

  "Yeah. In and out of there all the time."

  Elyse stared at the doorman. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

  Elyse's body heat flared so high, so fast, that a sweat broke out across her forehead. She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her face.

  "Would you do me a favor, Bill? Would you kindly call up Bobby's assistant--Nancy? Tell her Elyse would like to come up and wait until Bobby gets back. If you don't mind?"

  He shrugged. It was no secret that Elyse was Bobby Kressner's main squeeze. She'd pretty much had carte blanche entry the past four months.

  "I don't mind," he said.

  Elyse eavesdropped very carefully to catch Nancy's response on the other end of the line.

  "Uh--I, uh..." Nancy cleared her throat. "Well, yes, sure! Of course, she can come up."

  Elyse thanked Bill and scowled at the new guy before going to the elevator.

  It took every ounce of self-control Elyse possessed to keep from seeing red on her way to Bobby's apartment. She knocked hard on the door and waited, listening to latches unclick and release. When the door finally opened, some of Elyse's anger abated at the sight of Nancy's hugely pregnant belly. Her jealous rage simmered down as she moved her gaze from Nancy's roundness up to her face.

  Nancy smiled kindly. Elyse managed to contain herself when she motioned her inside.

  "Hi, Elyse. Please, come on in."

  If she wasn't mistaken, Nancy looked afraid. And perhaps her pregnancy had made her more amenable, because Elyse wasn't getting the same attitude she'd gotten earlier in her relationship with Bobby.

  In spite of compassion for her state of pregnancy, Elyse was nevertheless upset by Nancy's presence while Bobby wasn't there. Elyse suddenly felt as if she was sharing Bobby with Nancy, in a way that exceeded her role of assistant. Elyse hated finding her there mornings after she'd spent the night. Even though Bobby's place was ten times ritzier than Elyse's, she preferred them to stay over at hers lately, just so she wouldn
't have to see his assistant when she woke up.

  Nancy closed the door and turned toward Elyse. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  This only served to roil Elyse's anger more, because now she'd assumed the role of hostess, too. It was Elyse, Bobby's girlfriend, who ought to be greeting guests, not his assistant who was always in the vicinity.

  "No, thank you," she said tightly. "Listen, can I ask--how is it you're here when Bobby isn't home?"

  "Well, I have keys," she answered gently. "I come here a lot to take care of things when he's not around. Actually, I get a lot more done when he's out. Like now, I was just setting up his new computer."

  Elyse stared at her, unsure as to what a personal assistant actually did in the first place, and if this was considered par for the course. What bothered her most was the way Nancy should have deferred to Bobby as her boss but didn't. She spoke as if she was running his life and proud of it.

  "Whatever," Elyse said dismissively. "I'm going to wait in the living room."

  "Oh, sure, that's fine. There are magazines there, if you like, on the table--"

  "I know where they are, thank you very much!"

  Nancy shuddered and her pixie face clouded. With a squeak, she sniffled and ran to Bobby's office.

  Great, Wazinski, you've made a pregnant lady cry. Very nice!

  After a few minutes spent rifling through magazines she barely glanced at, Elyse heard the front door locks opening from the outside. Bobby entered fast and swept across the living room reaching out to her. Elyse's heart was pounding as she met him halfway and let him pull her close.

  "Sorry I wasn't here, honey. Everything okay?"

  "It was until I found your assistant here."

  "Why? Was she rude to you again?"

  "No, not this time. The perfect hostess as a matter of fact. But why in hell is she here in the first place?"

  "She's putting together my computer--isn't she?"

  "How do I know? I didn't check up on her!"

  "Okay, Elyse, don't get upset. I'll see if she can speed things up in there. Or, better yet, why don't you and I go out and get some lunch?"

  "No! I don't want to have lunch until we talk about some things."

  Bobby's face blanched. "Okay, calm down. I'll tell her to go take a break."

  Mollified for the moment, Elyse walked over and pulled back the drapes to see out the window. The bright sunshine over Hell's Kitchen contrasted greatly with the dim lighting of the apartment's interior. When she heard Bobby sweet-talking Nancy, she let the curtain drop and turned.

  Bobby was hovering over Nancy with an arm around her shoulders en route to the door. Nancy mumbled tearfully, and both spoke so quietly that Elyse couldn't hear what either of them was saying. When Bobby opened the door, Elyse thought she saw tears on Nancy's cheek. Before she could ask what in hell was going on, Nancy was gone, and Bobby was turning the first deadbolt on the door.

  "Was she crying?" Elyse asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Why would she be crying?"

  "Hormones. You know how pregnant women get."

  "Actually, I don't."

  "Well, I'm just finding out myself, too. Would you like something to drink?"

  "What, exactly, prompted her to start crying? I mean, hormones might make her overreact, but something had to set it into off, in the first place. Right?"

  "I don't know. I guess..."

  Elyse stared at him until he was forced to finish answering.

  "Okay, Elyse. Look... She's afraid of losing her job, on account of you."

  "Me? What do I have to do with her job? All she ever had to do was be polite to me, that's all. How would I be a threat to her job?"

  "Who knows, but, well--she's afraid of our relationship. She knows how much you mean to me."

  "Afraid of our relationship? Why in the--by the way, where's the father?"

  "Huh?"

  "Her child's father. Where is he in all this?"

  "They broke up, remember? That's part of the problem. She's scared. Between that and hormones...well, you can imagine."

  Elyse stared at Bobby, her skin crawling with the realization.

  "Bobby? Do you have anything to do with that baby?"

  "What's that supposed to mean, Elyse?"

  "Like it sounds."

  "Look, I pay Nancy a lot of money to be my assistant. She makes a hefty salary, believe me. I know she has issues, right now, but she does a good job. Takes care of everything--computers, shopping and laundry, appointments, banking." He grinned, showing his signature dimples. "Come here, you, and give me a kiss."

  Elyse pulled away from him. "What about me, Bobby? All I asked for was a little help getting into television, and I'm still waiting. Still working for the dopey Hoffenzimmers, wasting my talent every day."

  "I know, baby. These things take time. Believe me, I'm doing my best."

  "Why can't I at least meet your makeup artist? I make a good impression. He'll like me--won't he? I'll show him what I can do."

  "Yeah, baby, he'll love you. I'll get you on to meet him as soon as he has time. I promise."

  Elyse softened when he stepped closer and drew her to his chest. She figured this was as good as it was going to get for the moment, so she may as well relax. He smooched her cheek, then gave her a kiss.

  "You want to go have lunch? I can finish my work later, if you want."

  "Fine. I'm starving, anyway, after the workout I had."

  "Mm, and you look great in that leotard. God, are you gorgeous!" He ran his hands down her back and over her ass.

  "Listen, Bobby, I'm not so in-the-mood right now. In fact, I'm starving."

  "Right, beautiful. Let's go."

  She grabbed her coat as he unlatched the door.

  * * * *

  The vile flying creature on the gigantic video screen writhed and screamed while Elyse took aim and pounded it mercilessly with her plastic lazar gun.

  GAME OVER flashed in bright red letters, followed by Elyse's score ranked as highest for the day.

  Elyse rammed the toy gun down inside its resting nook on the video machine.

  Sharmaine chuckled. "Girl, you sure can shoot."

  Jerry slurred slightly when he said, "I wouldn't want you mad at me--not with a real gun, that's for sure."

  Elyse snuffed a laugh. "Case in point as to why I hate them! Real guns kill. No, wait--people with real guns kill. Which is why I use fake ones, only--for fun and games."

  Dylan carried over four full shot glasses precariously balanced in both hands. "Here we go, chickens. Drink up."

  He clinked his glass against Elyse's, and everybody clinked everybody's. After toasts of, "Skol," "Cheers," and "L'chayim," the shots went down the hatches.

  Elyse grimaced from an odd mix of cloying sweetness and the after-burn of alcohol.

  Shar looked at Dylan. She practically yelled to be heard over the techno music blasting throughout the adult arcade.

  "What was that I just tossed down, by the way?"

  Dylan answered with a faux English accent. "That, my dear, was a brain hemorrhage."

  Jerry guffawed. "A brain hemorrhage! That's a good one!"

  Elyse shuddered. "Ee--oo. I'm scared of that."

  They piled their empty shot glasses on a nearby ledge.

  "Shall we head for those sofas over there?" Shar asked. "I can barely hear myself think by this speaker!"

  The quartet crossed to the quieter side of the Star Bar and sat on a sectional sofa with easy chairs.

  "Ah, sweet respite from the noise," Shar said with a dramatic flourish.

  Jerry added, "I didn't realize that was the bass line pounding through my head. Guess I don't need aspirin, after all!"

  Shar settled into a corner of the sofa and put her spiked boot heels up on Jerry's lap. To Elyse, she asked, "So, darling, what's up with your TV star these days?"

  "Yeah," Dylan added, "how's it going? Any headway with work on the tele?"

  "He claims he's making it happe
n. But so far, no go."

  "Well," Shar added, "how's the relationship side going?"

  Elyse shrugged. "He claims he loves me. We get along, but he's, I don't know...distant, or something."

  "Got a lot on his mind with the show?"

  "I guess. Although...well, it's really weird with his assistant."

  "Weird, how?" Dylan asked.

  "Like, okay... He has an assistant, I get that. But she practically runs his life. I feel like I'm invading her space whenever I'm there and she's around."

  Dylan chuckled. "Yeah, some of them are like that."

  "But the thing is... Well, this one's, like, seven or eight months pregnant."

  Shar didn't move, but Elyse felt her eyes bore into her. "Oh? Pregnant, you say?"

  "Yeah," Elyse answered. She looked away, but the hairs on her arms bristled with what she sensed was coming next.

  "And," Shar continued, "who's baby would it be?"

  "Her boyfriend's," Elyse said. "Apparently, he broke up with her a couple of months after she found out she was pregnant."

  "A couple of months after she got pregnant?" Shar exclaimed. "Nice guy!"

  "I know. But, then again, I never really got the details."

  Shar stared at Elyse. Elyse met her gaze. "What?"

  "How long have you been seeing Bobby now?"

  "Four months, give or take."

  Shar pursed her lips, her expression filled with innuendo.

  "It's not his," Elyse said defensively. "I already asked."

  Dylan chuckled. "And, of course, actors never lie."

  Elyse felt her skin burn with both anger and embarrassment. "He's never lied to me before."

  "How do you know?" Shar asked.

  "Because!" Elyse snapped. "Why would he?"

  Shar shot Elyse a look of feigned innocence.

  "Leave the girl alone," Jerry said. "Maybe this guy is on the level."

  "Thank you!" Elyse hissed.

  "Listen to the lawyer taking sides with the accused," Shar said.

  "Oh, so you're directly accusing Bobby now?" Elyse asked.

  But she was more upset about the chord of truth her friends had struck than she cared to admit. She suddenly whipped her coat check ticket out of her purse.

  "Guys, I have to get up early tomorrow." She stood. "I better get going."

  "Me, too," Dylan said. "I'll split a cab with you."