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“I think Mrs. Barrington was married to Vance Calder,” Kelli said.
“That’s quite a leap, given what you’ve got,” Bruce replied. “Anyway, she’s too young to have been married to Calder. He was in his seventies when he died, and that was years ago. I mean, look at her.”
“Wouldn’t be the first May-September romance in Hollywood,” Kelli said.
“Why are you obsessed with this?” Bruce asked.
“I’m thinking of doing a biography of Vance Calder,” she said.
“Good God, why?”
“Because there hasn’t been one for more than twenty years, and a lot happened to him late in life, like getting married, having a kid, and getting murdered. Did you know his wife was a suspect?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“From Prunella Wheaton.”
“How do you know her?”
“We work at the same paper, on the same floor,” she pointed out. “I just introduced myself, and we had a conversation about Vance Calder. She told me she fucked him, and that he was the best lay she ever had. She used exactly those words.”
“And she looks like such a lady.”
“She’s a tough old bird,” Kelli said.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Excuse me for a moment,” Kelli said. She got up and walked over to where the two boys sat, drinking Cokes. “Hi, fellas,” she said. “My name’s Kelli. What’s yours?” To her surprise, both boys stood up.
“Hi, I’m Ben,” one of them said. “This is-”
“Joe,” the other said quickly.
“Glad to meet you both. Tell me, guys-”
Then Frank, one of the headwaiters, was positioning his large frame between Kelli and the table. “No, Kelli,” he said. “You don’t bother the customers.”
“Take it easy, Frank,” she replied, returning reluctantly to her own table.
“You’re lucky Elaine isn’t here yet,” Frank said, then walked away and positioned himself near the boys’ table.
“What was that all about?” Bruce asked.
“That was about me doing my job,” she replied.
“Well, stop doing your job,” Bruce said. “I don’t want to get thrown out of here and eighty-sixed.”
Two tables down, Ben said, “How come you told her your name is Joe?”
“She’s press,” Peter said. “I could have spotted her when I was six. Don’t ever talk to her.”
“Gee, I’d like to jump her,” Ben said.
“And she’d probably let you, for a story,” Peter replied. “But you’d regret it.”
“I don’t think so,” Ben said, sneaking another peek at her legs.
“Ben, you’re going to have to learn how that game is played,” Peter said. “You’re going to see a lot of it when we’re in the film business.”
