Indiscretions - Elizabeth Adler [142]
“I’m glad to hear that, Kaufmann,” Fitz replied smoothly, “and I hope you, too, will honor your promise.”
Bill felt relief surge through him. So that was it. The girls needed a spot of help, probably got themselves into difficulties already, though if Fitz McBain was helping them, surely it couldn’t be financial trouble?
“Damn right I will,” he said heartily. “You know I looked after Jenny’s business for twenty-five years. I’ll be happy to do the same for those poor girls.”
“That’s just it, Kaufmann—those girls are poor! And the reason they’re poor is because when Miss Haven began to be somewhat less of a ‘star’ and therefore became someone who needed more time, more work, and more effort on your part, and also someone considerably less lucrative than she had been to you and Mr. Reubin over the years—twenty-five years, I think you said? Well, then, Mr. Kaufmann, you dropped her. You left her to struggle by herself, a woman who’d been looked after, in the business sense, all her working life. You left her to the vultures, Mr. Kaufmann—and they were there, ready and waiting. Ultimately, they included yourself. And Mr. Reubin.” Fitz’s penetrating dark eyes met Bill’s apprehensive brown ones. “As well as Rory Grant.”
Bill’s mouth felt as though all his spittle had dried up, leaving his throat a hoarse desert. His voice rasped like metal on sandpaper as he forced out the word. “Rory?”
Fitz smiled again.
“Rory,” he said pleasantly. “I happened to meet him in Barbados a while ago. A very good-looking young man: such a pleasant, open face, a good smile—perfect for television. And I hear that his role in Chelsea’s Game is only the first step up the ladder. Young Rory is on the high road to success, with you hanging on to his coat-tails!”
Why the hell was he so interested in Rory? worried Bill. Had the bastard been complaining to Fitz McBain that he was being exploited?
“Now, just wait a minute”—anger lent power to his dry throat—“Rory is a client of mine. Everything’s quite legitimate there. Every actor needs an agent, y’know, and a lawyer. Why, without us they’d be in a hell of a mess. Believe me, Mr. McBain, we earn our money!”
“I’m not interested in how you earn your money from Rory Grant—nor in how much. My concern is with Jenny Haven’s money, the money that was stolen from her by your client, Mr. Grant.” Fitz watched as the expression on Kaufmann’s face dissolved from anger into shock.
“What do y’mean? Rory never stole a cent in his life—”
“And then, of course, we should discuss the considerable sum that would come to the Haven estate from the lawsuit I plan to bring on behalf of the daughters.”
Good God, what was he saying? What had Rory told him? Bill gripped the carved wooden arms of his chair, feeling his heavy signet ring bite into his flesh as it pressed against the wood.
“What lawsuit?” he spluttered. “You’re crazy! Those girls have put you up to something….”
Fitz walked across to the small tape deck waiting on the table near the Matisse. “Before we go any farther, I think you should hear this.” Pressing the “play” button he stepped back, watching Bill’s reaction as Rory’s distinctive drawl came over the speakers.
“Y’know, Bob, it’s hard for a young guy to make it alone … you’ve never had it bad like me, your family have money. I liked Jenny, y’know, I really liked her at first, but she was so tight with the goddamn money. There I was, dressed in Rodeo Drive’s best, without a cent in my pocket. Jesus, I even had to sign her name at the goddamn hairdresser’s. I tell you, Bob, that kind of thing can be humiliating to a man…. Anyway she was having business problems, the guy who was her agent and manager had chucked her—she wasn’t earning enough