Indiscretions - Elizabeth Adler [71]
Then she’d started unloading her problems on him, telling him how she was managing her own business affairs. He’d helped her, given her some good advice, meanwhile just funneling off enough money to finance the coke she was against him taking. So? Where else was he to get the money? He wasn’t working yet. And that was another thing—she’d expected to costar with him when he got the television part. Was it his fault that the director wanted someone young? She’d started thinking about maybe directing a couple of episodes, but Dirk wasn’t letting go of his job to accommodate Jenny Haven—all Dirk needed was Jenny taking the credit for the success of Chelsea’s Game!
Rory held the paper with the coke to his left nostril and sniffed noisily, then to his right. Jeez, that was better!
Anyway, she shouldn’t have let him take so much control—she should have organized her business matters herself, or gotten someone else to do it. Jenny was generous when it came to expensive clothes, dinners for two, and a bottle of champagne, but pocket money was hard to come by; he’d just had to find ways to put a little into his own account. He’d started finding property “bargains” that he told her were so “hot” she’d make a killing; it was easy just to inflate the price and pocket the difference. She’d trusted him completely—after all, the man she was doing everything in her power to help was not going to screw her, was he? Rory grinned at the memory—sure he was, if he needed the money and she wasn’t gonna give it to him! It was the same on the stock market. He’d enjoyed playing it at first. He’d made a bit—then lost a chunk. That was her money, not his. When he won, it was his money. He’d tried commodities for bigger wins, lost a lot, pocketed the rest.
He’d left her when she’d realized she was broke. He’d blamed it all on her, told her they were her decisions and he’d only done what she asked. It was true, wasn’t it? He’d told her every time he’d got a good tip on the market and she’d said okay. It wasn’t his fault that he’d lost more than he’d won—it happened all the time to lots of people. Anyway, it was time to leave, he’d had enough. She acted too old for him, and besides, things were looking good then, he’d just been chosen for the lead in the TV show. He was Chelsea in Chelsea’s Game.
Everything would have been okay if she hadn’t died like that … and if it weren’t for those bastards Kaufmann and Reubin! They’d blackmailed him! There was no other word for it. Shit! They were good at their jobs, there was no doubt about that, but Kaufmann was taking thirty percent as agent and personal manager, and Reubin had appointed himself his lawyer at a mammoth retainer—the more Rory earned, the bigger the retainer would grow. It’s only fair, Rory, Stan had said in that smoothie-lawyer voice of his, only fair, considering the circumstances.
Rory stared at his attractive image in the mirror and reconsidered the circumstances. He didn’t like them, nor the possible consequences of them, at all. He was a young man on the threshold of a great career, he had no choice but to be blackmailed by Reubin and Kaufmann.
“Rory?” The assistant director put his head around the door. “Dirk’ll be ready in five, okay?”
“Yeah.” Rory checked his appearance in the mirror. Goddamn, he was sweating—his forehead needed powdering again. He hoped they wouldn’t work late tonight. He had a date with the waitress from the