Professional Lover Part 7

"Tonight, then," he said. "Come to my hotel and have dinner. We'll work afterwards."

All afternoon Starr felt as though she were walking on air. To know she was actually going to help Stephen again; that he wanted her help! She visualized having dinner with him, sitting out at a little table on a balcony; shaded table lamp throwing a circle of soft rose light upon them. Away in the main dining room would be Mexican music faint and bewitching. The sky would be a blue*black tent with stars as spangles. And deep in her heart a dear impossible dream was born. Was she mad to dream such a dream? Perhaps down here she was a little mad!

All afternoon she felt restless. So hard to concentrate on the pile of fan mail she was answering for Rex. Such stupid women, she thought, to lose their heads over a man like Rex Brandon. Hadn't they any sense? Couldn't they see he had none of the stabler virtues that make a man worth while?

But at last she could conscientiously close her typewriter. Just time to dress to meet Stephen. She was putting the unanswered letters away in a drawer when the door opened and Rex came in. He strode across the room eagerly, his thin, attractive face smiling.

"h.e.l.lo, Starr! Put on your glad rags, we're going to the Gala Ball tonight. I've reserved a table. This will besome thrill for you, child. There's to be a battle of flowers, I believe.

Besides," * he c.o.c.ked one eyebrow at her and his blue*gray eyes twinkled * "you'll be there with the great Rex Brandon, the pivot of every feminine eye! Male, too, worse luck!" And he winked down at her slyly.

Starr said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Brandon, but I'm engaged for this evening."

Momentarily he frowned his annoyance, but a moment later he was smiling again.

"Nonsense! And if you are you can put it off." He looped his tall form in the doorway and added, "I'm a determined man, Starr. I'm determined on taking you out tonight."

She smiled slightly. "And I'm a determined woman, Mr. Brandon*"

"Rex," he interrupted, grinning crookedly.

"Mr. Brandon," * firmly * "and I've every intention of keeping my present engagement."

Suddenly he ceased to smile. He looked really disappointed. So disappointed Starr was amazed. Why should he care so much? Already half the women down here were loading him with invitations. Easy, too easy, to find a partner for the evening's festivities amongst them!

"Whom are you going out with?" He flung it out savagely.

A tiny flush mounted to her temples. Absurd to feel guilty like that.

"Stephen Desmond," she told him. "We're * we're going to work on the new picture. Plan out the scenes."

Rex's lips twisted derisively. "Yes, that would be his way of entertaining a pretty girl for the evening! Why, my dear, it's an insult. Work on a picture when you've such a wonderful night to play about in! The man must be mad!"

"You forget he has a wife," Starr reminded him tartly.

Rex threw back his head and laughed bitterly. "That is the one thing I can't forget!""I thought he used to be your friend." Starr threw it at him angrily.

"Maybe." He smiled ruefully. "But it's hard to remain on friendly terms with a man who regards you as the world's greatest blackguard! To go on feeling sweet and charitable towards him under these circ.u.mstances is putting too great a strain on human nature, my child."

"But you brought it all upon yourself," she reminded him fiercely.

He shrugged and picked a cigarette off the desk. "Perhaps he brought it upon himself, too.

And if his idea of an exciting evening with a lady is to work out scenes for one of his rotten old pictures, I'm not surprised."

"They're not rotten," Starr protested hotly. "And you should be the last to say so. You're the star."

His smile twisted. "Perhaps that's why I'm ent.i.tled to say so! And anyhow, you're coming with me tonight." His mouth twisted dangerously.

"I'm not." She lowered her voice. "You've no right to insist."

"Right?" He threw it out at her savagely. "What has right to do with it?"

Starr's color heightened. "I meant, as you were my employer."

"Oh, that." His tone dismissed it. He paused a minute, threw his cigarette on the floor, stamped on it and added, "Might I ask if you intend to spend every evening with Stephen Desmond in this thrilling fashion?"

She raised her head, and her own eyes flashed. Fiery, like her hair where the sun's dying rays stole in through the window and lighted it.

"Yes. Do you object?"

"Like h.e.l.l I object!"

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to keep your objections to yourself, Mr. Brandon. You engaged me to work as your secretary in the daytime. My evenings are my own to do as I please with!"

Silence after that. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he threw back his head and lauyhed.

"She's a will of her own, the child, hasn't she?"

Somehow his laughter made Starr more furious than his previous objections. "Certainly I have! Besides, I'm no child!"

"Of course you are, or you wouldn't protest. Well, go and enjoy yourself with Stephen fugging away over those rotten old scenes. But you might," * he raised one eyebrow and grinned * "Phone through to that pretty little Russian girl, Princess n.a.z.ita, for me. She'll console me, I fancy!" And whistling a gay little tune he strode out of the room.

Starr stood staring after him, her breath coming quickly. "The nerve, asking me to phone that girl," she thought furiously. "I won't. He can't make me, anyhow. It's out of office hours."

She couldn't have told you why she should feel so furious about it.

Some minutes later he put his head round the door again.

"Did you phone the lovely n.a.z.ita?"

"No, I didn't," she snapped.

He laughed mockingly. "Then you are jealous, my dear!"She swung round to face him. "Jealous? You think I'm jealous?"

"Of course. Otherwise you would have hastened to do what I asked you. But never mind.

I've already phoned her. She's coming, of course!"

"Of course!" Starr echoed sarcastically. 'Who would refuse the great Rex Brandon?"

"No one with any sense," he grinned derisively.

"Present company not excepted in this case, my dear!"

11

Starr felt called upon to give in her notice the following morning. After all, she had said the rudest things to her employer. Not that he hadn't provoked them; but she felt it better to give in her notice before he dismissed her. Yet curiously she didn't want to leave his employ in the least. She loved the hot sunshine of the daytime, the warm, flower*scented nights. She loved the lazy, carefree life. And she loved being near Stephen Desmond.

All the same her quarrel with Rex worried her. She realized, though she wouldn't admit it, that it had almost spoiled her evening with Stephen. It had been there, like an aching tooth, at the back of her mind all the time. Throughout a delightful dinner on the large, softly lit balcony, through the ensuing discussion of the picture. Called Gentleman Pirate, by the way.

A story on the Raffles theme. A scion of a n.o.ble family turns pirate to revenge himself on society, but he preys only on the private yachts of multimillionaires. During one of his raids he captures the daughter of one of the said multimillionaires and takes her aboard his own steam yacht. Follow many heart*tearing and pa.s.sionate scenes during which he maltreats the lovely heiress, and she must secretly enjoy it, for she falls in love with him in the end. Rex, of course, was cast as the Gentleman Pirate. Stephen had to admit it would probably prove his most successful role.

"Another version of the handsome cad! He's bound to excel in it!" He laughed bitterly.

Starr's hand touched his momentarily on the white tablecloth.

"Please, Stephen, don't say things like that!"

His lips tightened grimly. "You don't mean to say you're falling in love with him!"

"No, of course not. But he is my employer."

His hand doubled over hers suddenly, giving it a quick, tight squeeze.

"You are a loyal little soul. I admire you, Starr. And I'll try and remember he is your employer."

"Thank you, Stephen. I knew you'd understand." Her long lashes fell, casting fan*like shadows on her pale cheeks. So typical of Stephen to understand immediately!

It was past midnight when he brought her home. He was very contrite when he noticed the time. "You must be tired out, Starr. I ought to be shot for being so inconsiderate."

"But I enjoyed it so much," she protested quickly. She added in a lower voice, "So much, Stephen."

He squeezed her arm. "Yes, it has been great working together again. I feel," * he hesitated *

"awfully at peace with the world at the moment.""I'm glad," she whispered.

They were walking along beside the silver, moonwashed sea on their way back to the hotel.

A perfect night. A night that cried out for romance. Starr's soul, too, cried out for romance.

Romance with this beloved man by her side.

Stephen went on talking. "Yes, it's great to have a peaceful mind again after all I've been through. Rita * well, I'm pretty sure she's happy with me now. And I've got you to thank for giving her back to me. That's meant everything to me, Starr. Everything to my work, too. I know I can push on now. Right to the very top."

"I'm glad," Starr whispered again. But her lips were stiff. What was the use of that new*

born precious dream? He would never love anyone but Rita. Still to be near him was something, to be able to help him.

All the same she felt called upon to give in her notice to Rex the next morning.

"But, my dear child, this is nonsense," Rex protested irritably. "What's it all about, anyhow?"

"Well, yesterday evening when you asked me to go out..." she stammered.

"But that discussion was out of office hours. What we do and say to each other out of office hours shouldn't interfere with your job," * he smiled slightly. "Besides, I don't want to lose you.

You're a very capable secretary, if" * he raised one eyebrow * "slightly hot*tempered!'

" I'm glad I've given satisfaction," she murmured with her most business*like manner.

"Yes, you've given complete satisfaction," he mimicked her. He added, grinning, "What about tonight?"

"I'm afraid I'm engaged," * stiffly.

"h.e.l.l!" he exploded. And seizing his hat, he dashed out of the room. Which was rather peculiar behavior for the great Mr. Rex Brandon. Only Starr didn't think about it. Or if she did she wouldn't admit she was thinking about it.

It was later that same morning when a page boy came in to say that a lady had called to see Mr. Rex Brandon.

"Show her in," Starr sighed. All morning there had been a succession of ladies to see Mr.

Brandon. Rich and favored ladies of fortune, all with invitations they implored Mr. Brandon to accept.

"Another of them!" Starr thought and groaned inwardly. Still it was good business to be nice to them, and so she put on her politest smile.

"Mrs. Stephen Desmond," the boy announced. And Starr's polite smile faded.

Rita here! When only last night Stephen had told her Rita was safely at home in Hollywood.

What did it mean?

Rita on her part was equally surprised. "You, Miss Thayle?" she cried in a small, startled voice. Then, regaining some of her arrogant poise, she added curtly, "I came to see Mr.

Brandon."

"Mr. Brandon is out on the lot. I'm his new secretary," Starr answered quietly.

"Oh!" Annoyance as well as amazement in Rita's exclamation. She added insolently, "I'm going to wait for him, anyhow. He's bound to be in to lunch. May I sit down?""Certainly," Starr said coldly.

Rita seated herself. She snapped open a small gold case she had taken from her handbag and helped herself to a cigarette. The sunlight fell upon her through the open balcony doors, throwing a golden halo about her. It accentuated the exquisite blonde of her hair, her very fair skin, her large, light amber eyes. Her white crepe*de*Chine suit with the white fox fur was perfect. She looked too exquisitely dainty to be real. No wonder, thought Starr ruefully, men became infatuated with her. Infatuated, yes, but love? How could a man love so shallow, so brittle a creature as Rita?

"I suppose you've come down to join your husband, Mrs. Desmond?" she heard herself saying.

Rita threw back her head and expelled a blue cloud of cigarette smoke slowly to the ceiling.

"Do you really think I've come down to join my husband?" Her eyes gleamed mockingly, and she added, "My dear Miss Thayle, I'm sure you're not so credulous as that!"

It was a direct challenge, for Rita was the type of woman who preferred to fight in the open.

She concealed nothing and so got away with quite a lot! She knew Starr was her enemy. That she was now Rex's secretary made her even more formidable. There was no sense, thought Rita, in beating about the bush.

Starr put a fresh sheet in her typewriter and said coldly: "I don't think I know what you mean, Mrs. Desmond."

"No, of course you don't," Rita mocked lightly. "You're such a naive little thing, aren't you, Miss Thayle? You didn't know what it was all about when you found Rex and me together in his apartment that day! You hadn't the least idea we were about to elope! And now you haven't the ghost of a suspicion I've come down here mainly because he is here! Oh, no! I've come to join my husband, of course. To have a second honeymoon down in Mexico. So nice and romantic!"