The Big Brush-off Read Online Free Page A

the day, they managed to go out for drinks, or to a movie or ball game or the theater. Damn, I missed New York.
    I went inside, dropped onto the soft couch, and sipped the bourbon. The booze cleared my head, but no quantity of alcohol could erase Mildred’s expression of disappointment in me.
    I finished the bourbon and gazed around the room. What a sap. I couldn’t be happier for Laura’s success. She struggled hard to get out of Queens and be a star on Broadway and now in Hollywood.
    Still, roses and cards of congratulations were insignificant mementoes compared to what Mary Caldwell had gone through the past ten years. I pictured her on the train back to Hanover, her last hope dashed by selfish concerns for my future.
    I rose to pour another drink. When a key sounded in the door, I left the empty glass and planted a welcoming smile on my face.
    Laura stepped into the room, along with a giggling, petite, freckle-faced redhead. “Jake, you remember Joan.”
    We’d met at several Hollywood parties, but this was the first movie she and my wife had worked on together, Laura’s latest screwball comedy, set in New York. I knew Joan well enough to know the name on her birth certificate, Lucille LeSueur.
    I rose and offered my hand. “Of course.” Like the characters she played, Joan Crawford was a real looker, strong, independent, and funny.
    “Come here, you.” She gave me a hug then gazed around the room. “Laura, you have a lot of friends.”
    Joan walked to the table filled with flowers and studied each card as if that was what people did. One, with a dozen red roses, appeared to catch her eye. “From William Powell. Say, didn’t you two have a…”
    “We only went on two dates, to dinner then to a nightclub.” Laura blushed. “Bill and I have always just been friends.”
    Joan’s eyes darted toward me. “Oh, that’s right. I must have you confused with some other friend of mine.” She checked her watch and headed for the door. She flashed a gaudy diamond on her ring finger. “I have to scoot. Can’t keep my fiancé, Franchot, waiting.”
    Laura gave her a peck on the cheek and held the door as her friend disappeared down the corridor.
    I smiled as Laura closed the door. “How was your final day on location?”
    “After the last shoot, everything turned into a party that looked like it would go on for hours. Parties are much more fun when you’re with me.” As her lips brushed mine, her expression changed instantly as her brow furrowed. “The meeting didn’t go well. I smell whiskey on your breath.”
    Laura held my arm. “Jake, darling. What’s the matter? Is it Mildred?”
    My wife was an actress, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t act like nothing was wrong. “She didn’t like the chapters. Empire Press won’t offer me a contract.”
    Laura squeezed my hands. “Darling, that broad never can offer a compliment. You told me yourself.”
    I paced the room. “She’s abrasive and merciless at times, but she’s rarely wrong about my writing. Even before I dropped off the pages, I knew they were crap.”
    Laura threw her arms around me. “Oh, Jake. I’m so sorry. I read those chapters and liked them.”
    I held her close, inhaling the perfume that took away the smell of the roses. “You love me.”
    “I do.” She kissed my lips. “There are other publishers. Call Bill Putnam. He owes you.”
    I’d call Putnam only as a last resort. “Mildred left the door open. She thinks we should get away so I can focus on the novel.”
    “What a wonderful idea. I don’t have to be in Hollywood for a couple of weeks. How about a cabin in upstate New York, maybe on a lake someplace? I could cook.”
    I chuckled then realized she meant what she said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were serious.”
    Laura was a lot of things—kind, generous, and loving—but cooking wasn’t a skill she’d mastered.
    A smirk spread across her face. “Okay, I could
learn
to cook while you worked on your novel. I’ll