The Last Don - Mario Puzo [213]
Cross poured more brandy into Lia’s glass and lit his cigar. He did not tell him about David Redfellow. “How do you like your room?” he said jokingly.
Lia puffed on his cigar. “What nonsense. So beautiful. To what purpose? Why does anyone have to live like that? It is too much. It takes away your strength. It arouses envy. It’s not clever to insult the poor like that. Why then would they not want to kill you? My father was a rich man in Sicily but never did he live in luxury.”
“You don’t understand America, Lia,” Cross said. “Every poor man who sees the inside of that Villa rejoices. Because he knows in his heart someday he will live in just such a place.”
At that moment the private phone in the penthouse rang. Cross picked it up. His heart gave a little jump. It was Athena.
“Can we meet before the movie shows?” she asked.
“Only if you come to my suite,” Cross said. “I really can’t leave here.”
“How gallant,” Athena said coolly. “Then we can meet after the wrap party, I’ll leave early and you can come to my Villa.”
“I really can’t,” Cross said.
“I’m leaving in the morning for L.A.,” Athena said. “Then the day after, I fly to France. We won’t meet in private until you come there . . . if you come.”
Cross looked at Lia, who shook his head and frowned. So Cross said to Athena, “Can you come to me here, now? Please?”
He waited for a long time before she said, “Yes, give me an hour.”
“I’ll send a car and security for you,” Cross said. “They’ll be waiting outside your Villa.” He hung up the phone and said to Lia, “We have to watch out for her. Dante is crazy enough to do anything.”
The cocktail party in Bantz’s Villa was graced by beauty.
Melo Stuart brought a young actress with a great stage reputation that he and Skippy Deere planned to cast as the female lead in the Jim Losey Story. She had a strong Egyptian beauty, bold features, an imperious manner. Bantz had his new find, Johanna, last name not decided, the innocent virgin. Athena, who had never looked so radiant, was surrounded by her friends: Claudia, Dita Tommey, and Molly Flanders. Athena was unusually quiet, but still Johanna and the stage actress, Liza Wrongate, looked at her almost in awe and envy. Both came to Athena, the Queen they hoped to replace.
Claudia asked Bobby Bantz, “Didn’t you invite my brother?”
“Sure,” Bantz said. “He was too busy.”
“Thanks for giving Ernest’s family his points,” Claudia said, grinning.
“Molly robbed me,” Bantz said. He had always liked Claudia, maybe because Marrion had liked her, so he didn’t mind her kidding. “She held a cannon to my head.”
“But you could have made it tough,” Claudia said. “Marrion would approve.”
Bantz stared at her blankly. He felt suddenly tearful. Never would he be the man Marrion had been. And he missed him.
Meanwhile Skippy Deere had cornered Johanna and was telling her about his new film, which had a great cameo of an innocent young girl grossly raped and killed by a drug dealer. “You look perfect for the part. You don’t have much experience but if I can get it past Bobby, you can come and test.” He paused for a moment and then said in a warm, confidential manner, “I think you should change your name. Johanna is too square for your career.” Implying the stardom that lay ahead.
He noted how her face flushed; really it was touching how young girls believed in their beauty, desired to be stars, as passionately as Renaissance girls wanted to be saints. When Ernest Vail’s cynical smile appeared before him, Deere thought: Laugh as much as you like, still it was a spiritual desire. In both instances it would lead more often to martyrdom than glory, but that was part of the deal.
Johanna went off predictably to talk to Bantz. Deere joined Melo Stuart and his new girlfriend, Liza. Though she was talented on stage, Skippy had doubts about her future on the movie screen. The camera was too cruel