The Hollywood Trilogy by Don Carpenter Read Free Book Online Page B

it,” and we would get out, open the big wooden gate that both places had, walk through the expensive gardens, with the rhododendrons and azaleas, the hanging fuchsias, the cymbidiums and all, with the mockingbirds and finches singing their heads off in the sunlight and the big jaybirds squawking; up onto the big porches and knocking on the door, but neither place was the place, and after about an hour of hapless wanderings up and down the hills Jim said, “Well, maybe she moved,” and we drove down to Caledonia and parked the car so we could get something to eat. Jim was a little pissed.
    â€œI wonder where the hell she went?” he asked me as we walked into the big health food store. We were going to buy fruit and stuff to eat on the way to the airport instead of “wasting time” in a restaurant. Poor Jim.
    Anyhow, it was a good thing we stopped in at the health food store, because while I was looking over the pippins, Jim picked up a couple of women. Their names were Lucie and Mimi, and they were probably housewives, dressed in their tennis clothes, buying stuff for their families.
    Lucie was tall and blonde, with incredible tits, and Mimi was short and dark and hot-looking, with perfect legs. Obviously Mimi was for me, the way she kept staring at me with hot Spanish-looking eyes, her expression saying, “Relax, you’re going to get just exactly what you want,” as me and Jim kidded around and helped them pick their groceries. After we all got outside Jim offered to drive the girls home, but of course they had a car there, so Lucie said, “Why don’t you come over to my place for a cup of coffee?” and we said yes and followed them. It was only a couple of blocks. Jim said nothing except, “Couple nice-looking tomatoes,” and I agreed.
    The apartment was all wooden beams and big expanses of blue linoleum, with a nice-looking terrace comfortable with redwood furniture like mine, looking out over the little bay and Tiburon beyond. The trees at the sides of the building gave the terrace a nice privacy, and we had our coffee out there, Mimi fixing mine and bringing it to me and sitting beside me giving me that soulful dark horny look from time to time. We answered their show biz questions with jokes and kept them laughing and having a good time through two or three cups of coffee apiece, and so when Jim and Lucie disappeared into the back of the apartment and were gone for about ten minutes, I knew it was time for love. I had to take an extraordinary piss. I excusedmyself and went inside, finding the bathroom door open and the bedroom door closed.
    I could hear the murmur of voices coming from the bedroom, but I wasn’t feeling all that hot about things. The fact is, I was pretty nervous. All Jim has to do is look at a woman and she melts. He can say the most outrageous things to any woman alive and she will only laugh or blush, and never be put off, as she would be if I said any such things. I have heard him say to wrinkled old hags in elevators, “goddamn, honey, I’d sure like to have you lick my cock!” and he’d grin and look her in the eye, and instead of hitting him or calling the police, she would throw her head back and laugh, and by the time we would get off the elevator they would be jabbering like old friends. I don’t know what it is. One woman told me Jim had no meanness in him when he said these things and that women could sense that he really liked them, but there must be more to it than that.
    Anyhow, I was feeling a bit nervous as I came out of the toilet and knew I had to make a pass at Mimi or sit and talk to her while we both knew what was going on in the bedroom, and how she would probably be disappointed if I did not make a pass at her—whether she took me up on it or not—and of course I was not always sure I could live up to billing, if you know what I mean.
    But it was all right. When I got back to the terrace Mimi