Page 118 of Mazywood

He belted back the rest of his drink.

“I liked you better when you didn’t drink, Sam.”

“I liked me better when I didn’t need to.”

“Tell me what this is all about,” she said.

Defeated, he collapsed into her sofa cushions, which were so plush that they nearly swallowed his frame. “Fucking Harry Cohn,” he said, and buried his face in his hands.

“At… Columbia Pictures?” Diahann asked, no longer pretending she wasn’t listening.

Through her living room window, Mazelle saw a red glow from brake lights refracted through the trees from the truck parked down the road. Then Grady pulled Meek’s truck away. She hadn’t realized how much tension was locked inside of her until her chest loosened with the fading red light, color seeping away until the sky was black again.

“He’s gonna kill me, Mazelle,” Sam said. “And that ain’t no figure of speech. He says I have to marry a Negro woman right now, or”—he shook his head with disbelief—“I think he’s gonna have me killed. People are saying he’ll put out my other eye before he kills me.”

Mazelle and Diahann fought not to laugh, which only made him look more miserable. It sounded so outlandish! Why would a studio head make such a ridiculous threat?

“This isn’t a joke!” he said. “He went to the mob. And my friends in Chicago say they can’t do anything about it.”

Mazelle had heard that Sam had connections with Sam Giancana and other mobsters in Chicago, who gave him advances on his shows because he spent his money faster than he could earn it. By the time he earned one payday, he was in debt for the next. She had never heard of anyone threatening him with violence, although she had entertained the worry.

“Slow down, Sam,” Mazelle said. “Is this about Kim Novak?”

His eyes darted around as if he were afraid someone would overhear Novak’s name. “Everybody has the wrong idea about this thing, okay?” he said, although she doubted that was true. “We’re friends. But Cohn’s furious his biggest star is getting such bad press, everyone saying we’re engaged.”

A white actress who married a Negro could kiss her career in Hollywood goodbye. And if Novak’s career sank, Cohn probably thought his studio would sink with her.

“Well, are you?” Mazelle asked.

Sam ignored the question. “He’s a lunatic,” he said instead. “If I don’t marry a Negro woman in the next two days, I’m afraid for my life. And I can’t hide out here forever.”

Diahann went to the hooks near the front door and pulled on her jacket. “I think I’ll go outside and walk off that dessert…” She had finally decided that this was none of her business. She was also probably worried about catching a stray marriage proposal.

“No,” Mazelle said. This time, she was the one who sounded alarmed. “Grady told me he might have seen a bear out there. Better stay inside.”

Sam gave Mazelle a baleful look. “Bugs and bears?” He would never recommend her lodge now. But that was better than saying she had evidence of a man-eating creature on her grounds.

“Oh,” Diahann said primly. “Then I guess I’ll go to my room and let you two work out… whatever this is.” She gave Mazelle a concerned look and retreated down the hall.

Nat’s love songs were grating now, so Mazelle turned off the phonograph.

One thing about show people—their lives were never boring. She picked up her bottle of 1935 whiskey and poured Sam half a glass. Maybe he did need to drink now.

“Is that why you came here?” she asked. “Was that your plan all along?”

“I got advice to stay out of sight, and this is as far out of sight as you can get.”

Mazelle stared. She didn’t believe him.

“Okay!” Sam said. “Yes! If you just hear me out…”

“Sam, there’s nothing to hear out. I can’t say what’s going on with you and Kim, but you and me really are just friends.”

“We can be more than that.”

“Please. I’m not some wide-eyed young thing who can tail after you on club dates.”

“That’s what’s so perfect!” he said. He rose to his feet and walked toward her, sensing that he might be making headway. “You’ve got your own life, Mazelle. Your own money. You don’t need me to babysit you. You don’t care who I sleep with.”