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Tess shook her head. ‘I doubt it.’
Larry stared at her, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, Tess was sure he was going to tell her to go screw herself, maybe threaten to have her arrested, maybe even worse. Then, slowly, the lines around his eyes began to crinkle, and for the first time in their meeting, Larry smiled.
‘Fuck, you’re tough for a limey,’ he said admiringly, offering her his hand. ‘And I thought only New York chicks had balls.’
*
The Old Tap, on a side street on the Lower East Side, looked like every other bar Tess had ever seen on CSI and Law & Order. It was the sort of place where deals were done, secrets and information passed on. Long and thin, its bar running down the right–hand side, the wall lined with bottle spirits and illuminated signs advertising beer, The Old Tap was already busy, the padded bar propped up by tired–looking men wishing they could still smoke. Tess glanced around and took a vacant booth still cluttered with beer bottles. Russ had said he’d be wearing a leather jacket, but practically every man in the place had one on. A pretty waitress in bum–hugging jeans came over.
‘What are you having?
‘Do you do tea?’
‘No. Can getcha a coffee?’ Tess nodded. She didn’t like the drink, but she figured she wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy it. Tess saw the handsome twenty–something man pushing in from the street several seconds before he saw her.
‘Tess?’
She nodded.
Russ unzipped his jacket and threw it onto the seat opposite Tess with a James Dean swagger. Shit, he really was good looking, thought Tess, for a second almost envying Liz’s wild encounter at Red Legs. Maybe we should have met in a McDonald’s, she thought. Bars were always more covet and sexy – more dangerous, too. The waitress put a cup of black coffee in front of Tess and Russ shook his hand to say he didn’t want anything.
‘I hope you’re not going to sit there and judge me,’ said Russ with a smile. Despite the even teeth and sharp cheekbones, Tess could detect a nastiness to Russ Ford. Maybe that’s why he’d never got anywhere. No one wants to work with an asshole, especially not a nobody asshole.
‘No Russ, I’m not here to judge,’ said Tess.
‘Because a woman like Liz Asgill shouldn’t do the things she does,’ he said loftily.
‘And you want to profit from her mistakes?’
‘As I told Liz, we’re considering it as patronage of the arts.’
She could see his eyes stray down towards her tote bag.
‘Is that for me?’ his head nodding towards a brown manila envelope that was poking out of her bag.
‘Yes it is.’
She put it on the table and pushed it towards him.
‘A cheque?’ he smiled, inching his fingers towards the brown paper.
Tess shook her head. ‘A letter from Larry Goldman. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.’
Russ’s expression was caught halfway between confusion and greed. Tess had to suppress a smile; she was surprised at just how much she was enjoying this.
She could see him try to relax and be more casual. Ah, that’s why he’s never taken off, she thought. He’s a terrible actor.
‘What does Goldman want?’ asked Russ. ‘Is this some sort of payment in kind? We didn’t talk about this but I could be open to it.’
Tess remained expressionless. ‘I think you’d better read it.’
She watched him open the letter, allowing him to read just a few lines before she spoke again.
‘You see, Larry is a friend of mine,’ said Tess slowly. ‘He’s also one of the most powerful men in Hollywood.
He can make careers and he can also break them in a heartbeat,’ she said, clicking her fingers.
Russ looked up and their eyes locked. In a matter of seconds, every hint of smugness had been snuffed out and she could almost feel his fear across the table.
