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“Not with Julian or Roundtree, but she’s having one with Matthew.”
Surprised, Mira sat back. “Why do you think that? I didn’t get any sort of indication from either of them of that sort of interest.”
“No, they’re good. That’s going to be an issue here. Actors, and good ones. They’re keeping it quiet. But I have to figure two people aren’t leaving a party—the lights, the drinks, the laughs, to go dangle their feet in a lap pool on the roof unless they want a little alone time. And he’s out there waiting for her, when he could’ve gotten the hell out of here.”
She drummed her fingers on the table. “I could be wrong. But he talks about how she helped him, how she cried; she talks about how he worked and worked to bring the vic back.”
“Because they’re in love,” Mira speculated. “And see each other as heroic.”
“Might be.” Eve reached for the recorder again as Connie came in.
“Before we begin, could I get either of you anything?”
“We’re good,” Eve told her.
“Could I ask if I can have more coffee served—maybe some food—to the others? It’s hard to wait out there.”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t I take care of that?” Mira rose, touched Connie’s arm before the hostess could protest. “Sit down, Connie.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Connie said to Eve.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, and I’ll keep it as brief as I can. I’m recording, and reading everyone their rights, just to keep it clean.”
The strain showed as Connie nodded her way through the procedure, as she linked and unlinked her fingers on the tabletop.
“Why don’t you tell me what went on between you and K.T. when you took her away from the table?”
“I told her, in very clear terms, that she’d watch her mouth and behavior in my home. If she spoke that way again to any one of my guests, I would have her taken out, and she’d never be welcome back.”
Connie looked away, firmed her lips. “But that wasn’t enough.”
“What else?”
“She wouldn’t apologize, wouldn’t agree to apologize to you or the others, and that just tipped it out for me. So I tossed in, because I was very angry, very embarrassed, that I’d see to it she never worked with my husband again, or with anyone else I have influence with. She should remember I have quite a lot of influence in the business.”
Shuddering a little, she dashed a tear away. “I would have done it, too. I meant to do it.”
“How did she take it?”
“Initially? Not very well. She went
off, telling me she was sick of being told what she could say, what she could do. She had plenty to say, and there was nothing anybody could do about it. Then she told me Marlo was giving Mason blow jobs between scenes.”
“Did you believe her?”
“K.T.’s a talented actor, drunk or sober,” Connie began. “Sober, she’s tolerable as a human being, can even be amusing. Drunk, she’s vicious, unreasonable, and occasionally violent. Most of that’s been covered up by various agents, managers, publicists, producers, so the public doesn’t have the full picture, so to speak.”
“Was that an answer?”
“It was the first part of one. I didn’t believe her drunken insults, no, because my husband isn’t a cheat, or a man who looks for bjs on the set from an actress he’s directing. Added to that, Marlo thinks more of herself than to stoop that way. She thinks more of me, and Mason.
“The second part of the answer is Mason and I have been married a long time. And we have an understanding. If either of us falls out of love, we’re to be honest about it. If either of us just needs a break from the other, we take one. If either of us cheats—it’s done. No second chance.”
“Sounds like a good policy.”
“It’s worked very well for us.”
