The Last Don - Mario Puzo [44]
“It’s unfair that a girl like you is not as pretty as you should be,” he said. “Don’t take offense, it’s a perfectly natural misfortune. And it’s my business. I can fix it if you let me.”
Claudia was not offended, but she was indignant. “Why the hell should I be pretty? What good does that do me?” she said with a smile. “I’m pretty enough for your son.”
“All the good in the world,” the surgeon said. “And when I get through with you, you’ll be too good for my son. You are a sweet and intelligent girl, but looks are power. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life standing around while men flock to good-looking women who have not one tenth of your intelligence? And you have to sit around like a dummy because your nose is too thick and you have a chin like a Mafia hood.” As he said this he patted her cheek and said gently, “It won’t take much doing. You have beautiful eyes and a beautiful mouth. And your figure is good enough for a movie star.”
Claudia flinched away from him. She knew she resembled her father; the Mafia hood remark had touched a nerve.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I can’t pay your fee.”
“Another thing,” the surgeon said. “I know the movie business. I have prolonged the careers of stars male and female. Now when the day comes for you to pitch a movie at a studio, your looks will play an important part. That may seem unfair to you, I know you’re talented. But that’s the movie world. Just think of it as a professional move, not some male-female thing. Though of course it is.” He saw that she still hesitated. “I’ll do it without a fee,” he said. “I’ll do it for you and for my son. Even though I fear that once you’re as pretty as I think you will be, he will lose a girlfriend.”
Claudia had always known she was not pretty, now the memory of her father preferring Cross came back to her. If she had been pretty, would her destiny have been changed? For the first time she took a good look at the surgeon. He was a handsome man, his eyes were gentle as if he understood everything she was feeling. She laughed. “Okay,” she said. “Turn me into Cinderella.”
The surgeon didn’t have to do that much. He thinned her nose, rounded her chin, and scaled her skin. When Claudia reentered the world, she was a handsome, proud-looking woman with a perfect nose, a commanding presence, perhaps not quite pretty but somehow even more attractive.
The professional results were magical. Claudia, despite her youth, obtained a personal interview with Melo Stuart, who became her agent. He got her minor rewrites on scripts and invited her to parties where she met producers, directors, and stars. They were enchanted by her. In the next five years, despite her youth, she was ranked as a Class A writer on A films. In her personal life the effect was equally magical. The surgeon had been right. His son could not meet the competition. Claudia had a string of sexual conquests—some really submissions—that would have made a film star proud.
Claudia loved the movie business. She loved working with other writers, she loved arguing with producers, cajoling directors: the first with how to save money doing the script a certain way, the other with how a script could be done on the highest artistic level. She was in awe of actresses and actors, how they were attuned to her words, making them sound better and more touching. She loved the magic of the set, which most people found boring, she enjoyed the camaraderie of the crew and had no compunction about screwing “below the line.” She was thrilled with the whole process of opening a movie and watching its success or failure. She believed in movies as a great art form, and when called in to