Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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‘Now, look here, Victor, nobody’s going to tell me how to make my own picture, the picture I’m bankrolling to the tune of two million dollars. I must say, I thi –’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Victor murmured.
Lazarus was so startled that he did exactly that. He sat staring at Victor, an expression of disbelief washing over his face.
It took all Nick’s self-control to suppress the laughter rising in his throat. Mike Lazarus looks as if he’s just been hit in the face with a wet fish, he thought, and glanced away, biting his lip.
Lazarus recovered himself immediately. ‘We’d better get something straight, my friend. And right now. Nobody, but nobody, ever tells me to shut up!’
‘I just did,’ Victor said. He leaned forward and lifted his briefcase onto his lap. He opened it. ‘Here’s the contract.’ He handed Lazarus a manilla envelope, snapped down the lid and locked his briefcase.
In spite of the fury boiling within him, Mike Lazarus could not resist opening the envelope. The contract was in two halves, had been ripped across the middle. His eyes were riveted on the two pieces he was holding. For a moment he appeared to be mesmerized. Never in the whole of his life had he been so humiliated, so insulted. A slow flush rose from his neck, filled his face with deep colour. When he lifted his head, his eyes were like steel blades, and condemning.
Before he could utter a word, Victor, swift on the draw, said, ‘That’s what I think about your contract. And I’m sure you know what you can do with it. As hard as this might be for you to believe, I don’t want your money, and I most certainly don’t want you involved in my picture.’ Victor retrieved his briefcase and stood up. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Mike,’ he finished with a mirthless little smile. His black eyes were as cold and as hard as marble.
Nick had also risen and Lazarus regarded them both furiously for a prolonged moment. The bright colour had drained from his face. He was chalk white, and his voice, although as soft as always, was deadly as he said, ‘You’ll live to regret this, Victor. Truly, truly regret it. I’ll make damned sure of that.’
Victor did not bother to respond. He took hold of Nick’s arm and said, ‘Come on, sport, let’s get out of here. I do believe I’m in need of a bit of fresh air.’
Victor was striding rapidly towards the lobby. Nick kept in step, and when there was enough distance between themselves and Lazarus, he said, ‘Jesus, Vic, you really –’
‘Let’s wait until we’re in the street, Nicky.’ They collected their coats from the men’s cloakroom in silence. Victor shrugged into his camel-coloured cashmere overcoat and looked at Nicholas out of the corner of his eye. He winked theatrically, murmured, ‘That was short and sweet. Very sweet,’ and headed for the revolving door that opened onto Piccadilly.
Nick was so elated he could hardly contain himself. He had been a champion boxer at Princeton, and once they were outside he could not resist executing a few nimble, ballet-like steps. He feinted, and then delivered a light punch on Victor’s shoulder, exclaiming, ‘You really shoved it to him! Gave him the whole enchilada!’
‘I’m lucky I was able to do so,’ Victor said with a grin. ‘Thank God I really don’t need him, or his lousy money.’
‘So you’ve made a deal with a major? For financing?’ Nick questioned, his bright blue eyes probing.
Victor shook his head negatively. ‘No, not yet. But it’s in the works. Metro’s considering it, and very seriously. But even if they turn it down, I’m not going to abort the production after all. I’ve decided to go ahead. Too much sweat, yours and mine, has gone into this project for me to let it go that easily.’
Relief flooded through Nick. ‘Hey, that’s great, kid. But can Bellissima finance the picture completely?’
‘Just about. If I defer my salary, and if I can find other ways to cut production costs, which Jerry Massingham seems to think we can do. But I’m pretty sure Metro’s going to roll with us. They want me for another picture of theirs, so they’re willing to play ball with me on this one.’
‘Will you do their picture, after Wuthering Heights?’
‘Most likely. I’ve more or less said yes, in principle. Subject to reading the script of course.’
Nick chuckled and jabbed Victor’s arm again. ‘Did you see Lazarus’s face, when he realized that you’d torn up the contract? I thought he was going to have apoplexy. I wish he had, the slimy bastard. I almost punched him in the nose when he was raving on about the script as if I wasn’t there.’
Victor laughed. ‘I thought you might myself. That’s why I didn’t dare look at you. Thanks for restraining yourself, old sport. We could have all ended up on the front page of the Daily Mirror if you hadn’t.’
‘Well, despite the insulting way in which he treated me, I wouldn’t have missed being there for anything. I bet it’s the first time anybody’s turned down his money. He was staggered.’
Victor nodded in agreement. ‘You’re probably right. That’s part of his problem. He’s had too much power for too long, running that fiefdom of his. He thinks he can push everybody around. I suppose I could have been more above board with him, and told him days ago that I wasn’t prepared to go ahead with the deal. But I’m afraid the actor in me overrode my scruples. I couldn’t resist playing the scene out to the bitter end. And I have to admit, Nicky, it gave me a lot of satisfaction, dumping him exactly the way I did.’
‘Me too. But I didn’t like his parting shot though. About your regretting it. He’s got a nasty reputation … for being vindictive. And there is something inimical about him. He might just try to get back at you, Vic.’ Nick’s voice vibrated with nervousness. ‘I think he’s creepy. Sinister. To be honest, he kind of scares me. Doesn’t he scare you?’
‘Not at all.’ Victor looked at Nick quickly, his eyes narrowing. ‘And I don’t think he scares you either, sport. As for being sinister, I think that’s your writer’s imagination working overtime. You know you enjoy playing casting director and visualizing people in various roles. The whores and the ladies, the good guys and the heavies. Goodness versus evil, and all that jazz.’
‘I suppose I do,’ Nick agreed. ‘Nonetheless, I think he’s bloody unscrupulous. And you said yourself he’s paranoid. Jesus, I feel sorry for Hélène. I don’t relish the idea of her being involved with a guy like him –’
‘I know what you mean,’ Victor interrupted. ‘But she’s a big girl. I think she’s capable of taking care of herself when it comes to men. Don’t you?’
‘I guess. Incidentally, did you notice that flicker of interest when you explained who Katharine was?’
‘Sure, and I saw that same look, only much more pronounced, on Monday night in the bar at Les A. Lazarus came in with this well-stacked, stately redhead, dripping jewellery from every pore, and clinging to him like an octopus. And from the moment he noticed Katharine, she might as well have not been there. And don’t think she wasn’t aware of his attention straying. It was all very pointed. They left after one drink, just before you arrived.’
‘Who