Professional Lover Part 11

"You really mean it, Stephenn?" She was still breathless with elation.

"Of course, Starr. You're headed for a great future. I' ve arranged a little party for tonight.

Will you come?"

"How * how big a party?"He lowered his voice. "Party of two... Are you disappointed, Starr?"

"No, I'm not disappointed." Only her voice seemed to have got lost in her throat.

"I want to talk to you, Starr. It's nothing to do with the picture. Something quite personal.

I... I've been wanting to discuss it with you for several days... dear."

16

As Starr was dressing to dine with Stephen that night, a small square box of flowers was delivered to her. She opened the lid and saw a corsage of dainty, exquisite mauve orchids nestling in a bed of maidenhair fern.

"From Stephen," she thought. "How dear of him." And she lifted them out of the box. A card fell out with them.

"For you to wear tonight, Starr. And to congratulate you, too. Rex." There was a P. S.

"Rather ironical I should send you the corsage, eh, when another man will be there to admire them! Still, I don't think he will send you orchids * he isn't that type."

"And a darned good thing he isn't," Starr muttered furiously. "He's got something more important to think about than sending women orchids."

All the same the orchids were lovely. But she was much too angry with that P. S. to wear them. Yet that didn't prevent her pinning them on herself, as, a little time later, she turned this way, that way before the long hanging mirror. What a shame she couldn't wear them * they did suit her so! But perhaps Stephen would bring her some. She told herself pa.s.sionately she didn't want him to, but she knew, in her secret heart, she did, if only to give the lie to Rex's accusation.

But Stephen didn't bring her orchids. He seemed worried and hara.s.sed when he called for her. Starr, with her quick intuition, sensed it.

"Anything go wrong at the studio today?" she asked quickly.

"Nothing more than usual," he said shortly. "Except that every shot I took with Rex seemed all wrong to me. I think he's trying to queer the picture."

"Nonsense, Stephen. I'm quite sure Rex wouldn't do that. It isn't like him at all." Queer how quickly she rushed to Rex's defense. She was surprised at herself.

He raised his dark eyebrows. "I'm not so sure," he grumbled. "And instead of getting better, each time I retake a shot he seems worse."

Starr remembered what the electricians had said. "Don't you think he is rather the type of actor who puts his best foot forward the first time?" she suggested quietly.

"Are you siding with him against me now, Starr?" he demanded in a hurt voice.

"No, of course not," she said quickly. "It's only..."

But she never finished the sentence. Perhaps she wasn't even sure of the conclusion in her own mind.Stephen said they would have dinner at a place he knew where it was quiet and they could talk. He said he'd ordered the meal already. When they arrived there Starr wished it had been somewhere else. Rex and she had dined there several times. Not, of course, that that mattered.

The restaurant jutted right out over the sea. As you dined you could hear the waves swishing gently to and fro beneath the floor boards. Gla.s.s cas.e.m.e.nts surrounded you, through which you could watch the sun dip into the sea like a flaming orange ball; you could watch the sea take on its color, then the color gradually fade; you could watch darkness creep on like a gray*shrouded thief stealing the colors from the dying day. It was one of Starr's favorite spots. Queer she didn't feel in the right mood for it that night.

"It's because I want to celebrate tonight," she thought. "I wanted to go to a gay place and dance." And she remembered, with a gnawing hurt inside her, that Stephen had said nothing about that shot she had been in.

She said quickly, breathlessly, "It was dear of you to phone me this morning, Stephen. I'm *

I'm so glad the shot was all right. You know," * she smiled a little uncertainly * "I was terribly nervous."

"You needn't have been," he a.s.sured her. "You were excellent, Starr."

She laughed excitedly. "I'm vain enough to adore hearing you say that!"

He smiled slightly, "I'm afraid you'll be vainer still before you get through with your movie career, Starr."

"You mean," * she caught her breath, and her brown eves danced * "you think I may succeed?

You think there's really a place for me in the movies?"

He nodded his head ruefully. "I wish I wasn't so certain of it, my dear."

"But"* h er eyes opened wide in bewilderment * "aren 't you glad, Stephen?"

He crumbled some bread on the white tablecloth. "I'll admit I'm not, Starr. Well, not altogether glad, shall we say? And I feel mean about confessing it to you, dear. But" * his smile twisted * "to tell you the truth, I hate like h.e.l.l the thought of your becoming a great talkie star."

"But ... but why?" She was completely bewildered.

He said half angrily, his hands clenched on the tablecloth, "Can't you guess, Starr? I suppose it's the possessive male in me, but * I don't want to share you with a million admirers. Even though they be only admirers of you on the screen! I want to feel you belong to me, Starr.

Every bit of you, and that I don't have to share you with anyone. I*"

"Stephen, are you mad?" she gasped. "Do you know what you're saying?"

He caught her hand and held it, pressing the fingers gently back in his. "I do, Starr, and I'm not at all mad. Rather I'm sane at last, dear. I'll admit I have been mad for the past year or so.

Mad to love a worthless woman. But I've my eyes opened now, thank G.o.d. I think they have been opened ever since that night on the Beutonia, only I was too stubborn to admit it at first.

But lately, since I've been down here, I've seen things more clearly. It's you I want, Starr, as my helpmate, my wife.... I want you to stand by me, shoulder to shoulder, and work with me. I can't do without your help, Starr. I've realized that lately. What a d.a.m.n fool I was not to realize it before!"

She continued to stare at him, wide*eyed, breathless. Here he was saying all the things she had always longed to have him say to her; the dear precious things that had seemed soimpossible even in a dream. And she didn't know how she felt! That was queer, wasn't it? She supposed he had taken her so much by surprise she couldn't think clearly.

"But Rita," she managed to stammer at last. "What about her?"

"We had it out last night " he said curtly. "In the hotel. She'll * She'll give me a divorce all right. It wasn't very flattering, the alacrity with which she agreed." His lips twisted bitterly. "I don't love her any longer, but I admit it hurt. I suppose that's my vanity. Still I'm darn glad it's all settled now. I've * I've been longing to speak to you about it for days, dear, Ever since I realized I was in love with you." He squeezed her hand tighter. Still she waited for that sense of elation that would come, that must come. It was wonderful, wasn't it? She had loved Stephen Desmond for several years now, ever since she had been his secretary. And now, in a fairly short time, he would be free to ask her to marry him! She supposed that queer tension inside her was happiness.

"Starr," he bent towards her and whispered, "why don't you say something, my dearest?

Aren't you happy? Am I a conceited fool to presume that, for some time now, you've liked me a little?"

A faint color crept to her temples. Her hand trembled in his.

"More than a little, Stephen," she whispered.

"Bless you, darling." His voice was husky. "You don't know how, ever since I realized I loved you, it's upset me to think of your working for that cad, Rex Brandon. That's why I suggested you take part in the picture, to get you out of his employ."

She smiled a little wistfully. "And I thought it was because you realized I had genius, darling!"

"I believe you have," he grumbled. "But I don't want you to develop it, sweetheart. I'd loathe to be married to a famous star. My wife must be mine, all mine."

She laughed a little shakily. "Then this picture is to be my first and last bid for movie laurels!"

"Do you mind, darling?'

She didn't answer immediately. She did mind, she knew. But surely she loved Stephen enough to conquer that feeling? She would help him in his work, as she had done while she had been his secretary. His career would be her career. And his career was ever so much more important than any she might have. Surely she was very selfish to regret it at all?

She smiled across the table at him. "No, I don't believe I shall mind so very much, Stephen."

He caught her other hand and held it tightly. "You're wonderful, my darling. I know, directly the rotten divorce is through, we'll be terribly happy. Working together, playing together, loving together..."

Her eyes fell before his. How happy she must be! What a perfect night this, with the sea orange and scarlet outside the window, the waves singing monotonously beneath them, the man she loved best in the whole world holding her hands, telling her he loved her.... What did a career matter? Why, a few weeks ago she had never even dreamt of having a movie career.

Perhaps she wouldn't have minded so much now had she not flung that challenge to Rex Brandon. She had sworn she would succeed.... Well, it didn't matter, did it?

They had been so engrossed in each other they hadn't noticed two new arrivals. A coincidence? Not very much. This was Rex's favorite place, too, to take a lady out to dine.Even though, that night, the lady had rather forced herself upon him. The food was very good.

He reflected, cynically, you could even bear with the company of a lady who bored you if the food and wine were good enough.

As the head waiter led them pompously to the best table, Rita giggled, "Look, Rex darling, there's my erring husband and his little bit. Golly, they're sweet on each other, aren't they?

They haven't even noticed us come in!"

The muscles of Rex's face tightened. Queer little darts of anger gleamed momentarily in his eyes. He didn't reply to Rita. Instead he asked for the wine waiter curtly.

"Do order champagne. I must celebrate my prospective freedom!" she laughed lightly.

Rex ignored her wishes and ordered a Chateau Carbonnieux. He felt in that sort of mood.

She pouted prettily as she opened her small gold compact and peered into it. "You're not very considerate of my wishes, are you? You'll make me sorry I came out with you tonight."

"I didn't ask you to," he reminded her.

"Darling, that's just why I came! I adore you when you're brutal. Besides, I had to tell you all about it."

"All about what?" He waved the hors d'oeuvres aside.

"Thinking of your figure?" she teased him. "Darling, do men film stars have to be as careful of their figures as the women? Is it in your contract? That if your girth increases the tweeniest of an inch you lose your job?"

He laughed. "Of course! A cream cake a day keeps the pay cheek away! Haven't you heard that's the motto of us male stars? But... what's so important you want to tell me?"

She sipped her drink and made a face. "I hate still wines * you know I do."

"Why in heeles name, if you want to tell me something, don't you get on with it?" he asked in sudden exasperation.

She pouted again. "How do you know I want to tell you something?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake haven't you been harping on it all evening?" His exasperation grew.

"How like a woman. She teases your curiosity for the mere pleasure of refusing to satisfy it!

Very well. Don't tell me. I'm not interested."

"But you would be if you guessed what it was," she taunted him. "It's about Stephen and that girl."

"You mean Starr?"

"You needn't snap my head off. Of course I mean Starr!"

"Well, what is it?" He spoke quietly, yet his hand was a little unsteady as he picked*up his gla.s.s.

"Stephen wants me to give him a divorce so that he can marry her."

"What?" He set the gla.s.s down on the table with a jerk. Some of the untasted wine spilled onto the cloth. He paused a moment, as though trying to control his voice. "You're not serious, surely?"

"I am serious. After all, it is a serious matter for a woman to contemplate losing her husband, even though she doesn't want him! A husband is your bank account for a rainy day.Especially if you haven't anything else lined up. And," she sighed, "I'm beginning to be less sure of you, Rex darling, every day."

But he wasn't listening to her. He was staring across the dining room at Stephen and Starr.

"How do you know she'll have him?" he asked at last, in a voice that was totally unlike his ordinary voice.

She grimaced. "I told you the other day she was in love with him. Always has been. But it's only lately he's come to think he's in love with her. He says it's a soul attraction and that I was only a physical one! That's a nice thing to say to a devoted wife, isn't it?"

Again Rex didn't reply. He was still staring across at Stephen and Starr. Perhaps more at Starr than at Stephen. Those anger points still blazed in his eyes, but now there was pain in them, too. Could it be true what Rita had told him? Somehow he had to find out definitely.

This suspense was awful.

And, as he stared at her, Starr glanced up suddenly and looked at him.

Her face paled, then flushed. She knew a tingling sensation all over her, and her heart seemed to do something queer she didn't understand. She supposed it was caused through annoyance at finding him staring at her in that angry, accusing, possessive way. With an effort she withdrew her eyes from him and looked at Rita. Strangely the first thing she noticed about Rita was a spray of mauve orchids pinned to the shoulder of her mauve satin evening gown. So Rex had given her orchids, too! Probably ordered them both at the same time! Typical of him.

The professional lover! Of course, he knew all the tricks of the trade. But it was bad luck for him that both women should meet on the one evening, wasn't it? She wished she could laugh aloud.... And then she discovered with a queer inner dismay she didn't want to laugh. Tears sprang to her eyes. She didn't understand them. Why should she of all people care that he had sent Rita orchids, too?

"Look, Stephen. Rex and Rita are over there. That's funny, isn't it?" She tried to laugh, but it wasn't altogether a success.

Stephen started. He stared in the direction she indicated. He looked angry suddenly. "Darn nerve," he muttered.

"But why, Stephen? If we've a right to go out together, surely they have! And this is a public restaurant!" Her laugh was more certain now.

He didn't reply to that. He said instead: "Directly you've finished your coffee we'll go. No point in staying on here. Let's go for a drive in the car."

"But, Stephen, I thought we were going to stay and dance! They're clearing away some of the tables now."