Page 76 of His Girl Hollywood
Frankie paused, seeming to consider this idea. A muscle in his jaw pulsed and Don nearly laughed, watching the visible effort it took the man to think through the very basic proposition. But then, Frankie cracked his neck and flicked his hand at Eleanor. “Go on then.”
She looked between Frankie and Don, uncertain. “I can stay if—”
“Go!” Frankie yelled, the rage that always simmered under the surface unleashed. “He’s giving ya your freedom. Now, take it. Before I change my mind.”
Eleanor gave Don a breathless “Thank you” before turning on her heel and scurrying from the soundstage. Don exhaled minutely, happy that Eleanor was at least safe. For now.
“It’s a tempting proposition,” Frankie drawled. “But that means you’re gonna do whatever I want. Make appearances when I ask ya to.”
“What kind of appearances? Isn’t soaking me dry for every penny I earn enough?”
Frankie smirked. “I got big plans for this city. You think you’re so smart, mentioning Jack Dragna to me like that was gonna scare me or somethin’. All it did was give me ideas.” Frankie tapped the side of his head with his finger to emphasize the point. “When I’m through with Los Angeles, Jack Dragna and his cronies ain’t gonna know what hit ’em.”
Don bit his tongue, resisting the urge to tell Frankie he was having delusions of grandeur. Jack Dragna wasn’t the kind of guy to roll over and die when someone threatened his outfit. “What does that mean?”
“That little casino boat you took a ride on with your girlfriend the other night—”
The mention of Arlene made Don see red. He lunged and grabbed at Frankie’s lapel, hauling him up to his toes. “Don’t you dare drag her into this.”
He felt the barrel of Frankie’s gun press into his gut. Don had reacted without thinking. But he needed to stick to the plan. It was the only way to keep her safe. To protect them all—Arlene and Joan and Dash and Flynn. As Frankie pressed the gun into him with increasing force, Don let go of Frankie’s lapels. Frankie smirked. “Ya just gave me more leverage, ya idiot.” The lug was right, but Don wasn’t going to let him know it. All he had to do was trust that this was going to work out. Then leverage wouldn’t matter. He rubbed at the penny in his pocket again, trying to calm down. Flying off the handle wasn’t part of the plan.
“That gambling ship, it’s nothing. I’m gonna put Anthony Cornero out of business with a whole fleet. I’m gonna line the pocket of every politician and powerful man in this town, string them along until they lose their shirts. They’ll have no choice but to go along with my plans. By the time I’m done, Sunset Boulevard will be lined with casinos instead of mansions and movie stars. It’s already started—a handful of police captains, the editor-in-chief of theExaminer, they all want a piece of what Frankie Martino is selling. Give these guys a deck of cards, a pair of dice, or the promise of a big check, and their eyes turn to dollar signs.” Frankie shrugged. “Or if not, I’m good at finding other ways to persuade them.”
Don knew what that meant—blackmail and threats of bodily harm. “Hell, I even got your new boss, Harry Evets, slobbering over my business plans like a dog.”
“Harry Evets is a better man than you’ll ever have a prayer of being.”
Frankie laughed. “You think making a movie was your idea?”
Don recoiled as if Frankiehadshot him. “No, that’s, no…a talent scout saw me inPal’ing Around.He came backstage to meet with me.”
“Who do you think invited the talent scout to the show? Encouraged them to cast you as the lead in a picture when you’d never made one before?”
“Nebbs said it was Harry’s fiancee. Besides, I made the contract deal. The money was coming straight to me for once. Me and Eddie.” The room was suffocating now. The stage lights making Don sweat. The rug had been ripped out from under him. This one thing he’d thought was his alone, that he’d earned through sheer talent and hard work, was a lie. Another milestone reached only because he was the pawn of a gangster.
“I needed to test ya. I thought you were getting restless. I was right.” The truth hit Don like a ton of bricks. Frankie never would’ve let him go willingly. Never would’ve taken any amount of money Don offered him to buy out his contract. Frankie Martino owned him, no matter how hard he strained at his leash. His plan, Arlene’s plan, was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. “That was just the beginning, sending ya out here. It showed me that there’s an awful lot of business opportunities I’ve been missing in sunny California.”
“Harry’s a good man. He wouldn’t have agreed to…to whatever this is.”
Frankie flicked his fingers, picking dirt out from under his nails as if this was another business meeting for him. “It wasn’t exactly skin off his teeth to cast you in a movie. If it didn’t work out, he could chalk it up to the cost of doing business. Particularly with a dame directing. There were a thousand things he could have blamed your failure on, if it came to that. Now, though, now I have some other ideas for our Mr. Evets.”
“He’ll never agree.” Don’s hands were curled into fists now, his fingernails digging into his palms so hard, they were nearly drawing blood. But it was the only way to keep himself from beating Frankie to a pulp. Or from trying to, anyway.
“Oh, but he already has,” Frankie sneered, his teeth exposed like a dog ready to make a kill. “Harry Evets might be a good man, but I reminded him that his new wife would be very interested to see some photographs I have of him enjoying the talents of the girls at my club.”
Don dragged his hand down his face and sank to his knees. “That’s it then?” He struggled to suppress a quiver in his voice. A sob was building in the back of his throat. “You own me. For the rest of my life?”
Frankie snickered, took a step back, and kicked Don in the side. Don doubled over. Frankie had caught him right in his bruised ribs. “Ya know your problem, kid? Ya always think you’re smarter than me.”
Don started laughing then. He clutched at his side and grit his teeth, the effort sending a wave of pain through him with every chuckle. But he couldn’t help himself. He looked up. The reaction had wiped the cruel grin from Frankie’s face, replacing it with confusion. But all Don could do was laugh.
“I think we got it! Cut, everyone.” Arlene’s voice rang out from behind the door atop one of the stoops lining the fake New York street. A bell rang and the lights went up, revealing a row of cameramen in the rafters. Perched above, looking like royals surveying their kingdom, were Joan, Dash, Eddie, and Harry Evets.
Arlene stepped out from behind the door, the lens of a camera visible behind her. Frankie’s head swiveled between them, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. His tough-guy sneer had given way to a look of utter shock and horror. “Did you…have you been—” Frankie spluttered.
But he didn’t finish as they all heard Eleanor’s voice from behind the row of flats. “Right this way, officers.”
She stepped onto the set of the New York street, a bit like a sheriff preparing for a shoot-out, flanked by three LAPD officers and a detective Harry had personally vouched for.