Countess Dracula Read Online Free Page B

marriage three years ago. Nobody would have cared. If you’d done that …’
    ‘I’d still have a career?’
    ‘Oh hell, Frankie, you still have a career now if you want it. But you’re not making it easy for me, you know? You’re being obstructive, being …’
    ‘Faithful?’
    ‘Don’t give me that!’ Fabio seemed genuinely angry now, leaning back in his chair and fixing his client with a puffy-faced stare. ‘You’re supposed to be an actor, damn it, so learn when to maintain character and when not. Back then it made sense for the two of you to get together. Christ, it’s tried and tested … the people love a romantic story. You gave her legitimacy, she gave you a profile. You had a couple of years of box-office gold. But then …’
    ‘Everything changed.’
    ‘What doesn’t, Frankie? Life is one big change and you have to ride it. Elizabeth was great when all she had to do was make love to the camera. But you know as well as I do that it’s hard to maintain the pretence of a poor girl made good from Connecticut …’
    ‘Wisconsin.’
    ‘Wherever. The point is, audiences liked that story, they bought into it. What are they going to think when this all-American beauty opens her mouth and they can’t understand a word she says?’
    ‘Her accent’s not that strong.’
    ‘Frankie, she sounds like she’s chewing the words up and spitting them out. Nobody cares with the likes of Lugosi, they love it, they make him even more horrible … but Elizabeth? Who wants to fall in love with someone who sounds like she milks yaks for her morning coffee?’
    Nayland might have admitted that he had.
    ‘She’s taking lessons.’
    ‘I know, with Cecil Lundy. He’s good. Hell, he’s the best. But he tells me it’s like trying to push soup uphill. She ain’t going to be Fay Wray any time soon. Besides …’ Fabio sighed and lowered his voice. ‘I hate to say this, you know I do, but she’s losing her looks, she’s getting old. If she still had the magic she had ten years ago, then, screw it, I could have sold her into anything, whatever she sounds like. But now?
    ‘Hollywood is a heartless bitch, Frankie: it doesn’t give two fucks about your feelings. Elizabeth has had her day. Short of a miracle she’s not going to be working again soon and unless you jump ship she’s going to end up taking you down with her.’
    Elizabeth lay back in her bed and let the breeze of the fan dry the sweat of sex from her. Just for a moment, the briefest of seconds, she was happy.
    It never lasted.
    ‘I don’t pay you to sleep,’ she told the Puerto Rican, pushing him with her foot. He sat up, bleary-eyed. What was he on? He was nineteen or twenty but his pretty face was hanging from the bones in a way that spoke of strong dope.
    ‘You want go again?’ he asked, showing some of the stamina of his age. A listless hand grabbed at her thigh.
    ‘No, I want you gone. Both of you.’
    She slapped at her other paid lover, an Eastern European who had tanned his skin to a perfect bronze that must have taken almost constant effort to maintain. He was a beautiful little bastard, she thought, and he knew it.
    They slid off the bed and Elizabeth sighed as she watched them shuffling around the room in search of their clothes. Two perfect statues. The Puerto Rican sneaked a quick glance in the mirror, checking himself out. And why not? She remembered a time when the mirror had been a good friend to her rather than an embarrassing relative she tried to avoid. She avoided it now as she got up and moved over to her dressing table, picking up an envelope of cash and flinging it to the Eastern European. He made to open the envelope and check its contents but then thought better of it. There’s a little brain in there, she decided: he knew well enough not to risk angering her by implying that he didn’t trust her.
    In silence they filed out, the Puerto Rican offering a half-hearted wave as he left the room.
    Alone, Elizabeth gave it a