air whenever he got excited. 'You've seen it in the movies, now get used to the real thing,' he said, gesturing expansively. 'These dudes got plenty of money an' don't mind spendin' it.'
Who? Movie stars?'
'Naw... some of 'em, maybe. But it's all those producers an' Hollywood execs who cream a bundle off every movie they're involved with. Those guys make sure they're swimmin' in big bucks. They call it creative accounting.'
'What are you - a Hollywood expert?' Michael asked, laughing and scratching his chin.
Quincy nodded knowingly. 'I'm doin' some work for a couple of those hotshot studio execs.'
'Yeah? Anything interesting?'
'Not compared to our New York days. Hey, at least I ain't puttin' my life on the line tryin' to nail some friggin' deadbeat with a bad crack habit an' a shaky trigger finger. Out here it's cream-puff time, an' I get paid primo. I'm telling you, Mike, come in with me, we'd clean up mucho bucks.'
Unconvinced, Michael said, 'Doesn't it get kinda boring? Y'know, the sun shining all the time, people telling you to have a nice day, everyone smiling - '
'You're forgetting about the riots,' Quincy interrupted. 'An' the car-jackings, earthquakes, mud slides, fires, drive-by shootings an' floods. If's not all Sunset Boulevard and big mansions.'
Reaching for a cigarette, Michael lit up and said, This is nice, Q, but after a while, I'd miss the streets, y'know what I mean?'
'If you stay here you'll be near your kid.'
'I called yesterday,' he said, taking a deep drag. 'Same old thing, all I get is that frigging answering machine.'
'So drop by, surprise 'em. You must be achin' to see little Bella.'
'I am, but I gotta be sure Rita knows I'm here to stay. I need my own place, that way I can take my kid for weekends, get to know her again.'
'Whyn't you bring her over to us? Amber would love it, she's turned into a regular earth mother.'
'I'm tempted.'
Tell you what,' Quincy said, making a quick decision. 'If you promise not to tell Amber on account of the fact that she's startin' to call me fat boy, I'll buy us a pizza, then we'll drop by an' surprise Rita. How's that?'
'You know something,' Michael said, nodding slowly, 'that's not such a bad idea.'
* * *
'Bobby Rush,' Mason said, his voice crackling over the phone from New York.
'Don't you mean
Jerry
Rush?' Kennedy replied, cradling the receiver under her chin as she reached for a notepad and pen.
'Jerry's cold. Bobby's hot.'
She hated asking, but she honestly didn't know.' Who
is
Bobby Rush?'
Mason grunted disapprovingly. 'Sometimes you surprise me.'
'I've never heard of him.'
'For Christ's sake, K.C., keep up with what's happening or I'm likely to think I've made a serious mistake hiring you.'
She drew a stick figure on the notepad and added little pointed horns. 'Movie stars are not my priority, Mason. I presume that's what he is.'
'He's Jerry's son done good. Starred in and produced
Hard Tears
., it just passed the hundred-million-dollar mark. He takes his clothes off on screen - that should appeal to you - a touch of the double standard reversed. I suggest you see the movie. In the meantime we'll Fed Ex you some of his clippings and a bio.'
'How exciting,' she said drily.
'I want a very provocative piece. This'll be the cover story. Make him out to be a male Sharon Stone.'
Why - does he flash his pussy?'
'Don't be crude.'
'I was hoping for Clint Eastwood, Charlie Dollar or Jack Nicholson.'
'You like 'em old, huh?'
'I like 'em to have a brain.'
'He does.'
'What are you - his PR?'
'Goodbye,' Mason said, hanging up.
She called Rosa at the network. Who's Bobby Rush?'
'Nice ass,' Rosa said. 'Why?'
'I've never heard of him,' she repeated.
'I wouldn't advertise. He's famous.'
'I guess I'd better start watching
E.T
. and reading
People
.'
'How about going to the movies occasionally?'
'So shoot me. I prefer watching PBS.'
'Bobby Rush is
very
sexy. Rumour has it he fucks like a rabbit and doesn't come for an hour and a
Brian Keene, J.F. Gonzalez