Sister with Evan Havenhurst and dealing in antiques. He seemed at peace. He was certainly fit and cheerful.
“Do you sail?” he asked Mitch.
“No, I’m a city kid, through and through. I can’t even swim.”
“Not a problem—that’s why they have life preservers. I can’t swim either. Child stars can’t do anything. Hell, I didn’t learn how to tie my own shoelaces until I was …” Jamie paused, glancing down at own his feet. “Actually, I still don’t know how to.” He let out a huge guffaw. “You’ll have to come out for a sail sometime with us, Mitch. You’ll enjoy it. And I promise you we’ll even wear clothes.”
This comment did not go over well with Bud, who immediately stalked off, red-faced.
Evan let out a pained sigh. “Jaymo, why must you rub his nose in it?”
“Sorry, Ev,” said Jamie, patting his hand. “The Bud man’s just such a prig I can’t help myself.”
Evan went to fetch them drinks, leaving Mitch with the one-time star.
“Still doing any acting, Jamie?”
“Boyfriend, I never was an actor,” he replied, with no trace of bitterness. “Being a child star means being you. When you get to be older, and you find out they now expect you to play a role, you discover you never really learned how. And you have no real life experiences to draw upon, since you’ve had no real life.” Evan returned now with glasses of wine for each of them. Jamie thanked him and turned back to Mitch. “In answer to your next question: No, I never watch the reruns. It was all a lie. Bogus people living in a bogus world. In fact, we don’t even own a TV That’s all behind me now. So is Tinsel Town. Beverly Hills is the only ghetto in America where the rats don’t live in the walls. Being here, I have achieved peace for the first time in my life.” He glanced fondly at his handsome young companion. “Poor Evan still has the bug, I’m afraid. That’s how we met—he was in an acting class that I was teaching in New York. I’ve been doing my best to talk him out of it. That’s absolutely the only thing Bud and I see eye to eye on.”
Evan had brought hors d’œuvres that needed heating. He excused himself to go take care of them. Mitch and Jamie drifted into the study, where Bud and Red sat talking. The subject was Niles Seymour and what a bastard he was.
“It wasn’t enough that he broke Dolly’s heart,” Red was saying, his voice a low murmur. “He had to leave her high and dry, too. That’s the detestable part.”
“Unforgivable,” agreed Jamie, sipping his wine.
“He cleaned out their joint checking and savings accounts,” Bud explained to Mitch. “He even liquidated their stock portfolio. Well over a hundred thousand dollars altogether. And he used their joint Visa card to buy two airplane tickets to St. Croix—before Dolly could get around to freezing it.”
Mitch nodded, wondering why they were suddenly being so open with him.
“Has he filed for the divorce yet?” Jamie asked Bud.
“No, but she will,” Bud replied. “On the grounds of desertion.”
“I call it outright theft,” Red fumed. “He should be in jail. The man is a no-good con artist.”
“I wouldn’t call him no good,” Jamie said. “I’d call him damned good. He’s handsome. He’s charming. And he’s as persuasive as hell. Convinced Dolly to put his name on everything, didn’t he?”
“We can’t touch him, Red,” Bud admitted glumly. “Niles had a legal right to that money.”
“But the money in those accounts was hers ,” Red said insistently. He had grown considerably more loquacious with a couple of stiff drinks in him. And, like Bud, he was very protective of Dolly. “Those investments were hers . They do not belong to Niles Seymour and that … that … bimbo .”
“Who is the other woman?” Mitch asked.
“We don’t know,” Bud answered, reaching for his scotch. “Some little redhead he knew in Atlantic City before he met Dolly, apparently. All we can say for
“Do you sail?” he asked Mitch.
“No, I’m a city kid, through and through. I can’t even swim.”
“Not a problem—that’s why they have life preservers. I can’t swim either. Child stars can’t do anything. Hell, I didn’t learn how to tie my own shoelaces until I was …” Jamie paused, glancing down at own his feet. “Actually, I still don’t know how to.” He let out a huge guffaw. “You’ll have to come out for a sail sometime with us, Mitch. You’ll enjoy it. And I promise you we’ll even wear clothes.”
This comment did not go over well with Bud, who immediately stalked off, red-faced.
Evan let out a pained sigh. “Jaymo, why must you rub his nose in it?”
“Sorry, Ev,” said Jamie, patting his hand. “The Bud man’s just such a prig I can’t help myself.”
Evan went to fetch them drinks, leaving Mitch with the one-time star.
“Still doing any acting, Jamie?”
“Boyfriend, I never was an actor,” he replied, with no trace of bitterness. “Being a child star means being you. When you get to be older, and you find out they now expect you to play a role, you discover you never really learned how. And you have no real life experiences to draw upon, since you’ve had no real life.” Evan returned now with glasses of wine for each of them. Jamie thanked him and turned back to Mitch. “In answer to your next question: No, I never watch the reruns. It was all a lie. Bogus people living in a bogus world. In fact, we don’t even own a TV That’s all behind me now. So is Tinsel Town. Beverly Hills is the only ghetto in America where the rats don’t live in the walls. Being here, I have achieved peace for the first time in my life.” He glanced fondly at his handsome young companion. “Poor Evan still has the bug, I’m afraid. That’s how we met—he was in an acting class that I was teaching in New York. I’ve been doing my best to talk him out of it. That’s absolutely the only thing Bud and I see eye to eye on.”
Evan had brought hors d’œuvres that needed heating. He excused himself to go take care of them. Mitch and Jamie drifted into the study, where Bud and Red sat talking. The subject was Niles Seymour and what a bastard he was.
“It wasn’t enough that he broke Dolly’s heart,” Red was saying, his voice a low murmur. “He had to leave her high and dry, too. That’s the detestable part.”
“Unforgivable,” agreed Jamie, sipping his wine.
“He cleaned out their joint checking and savings accounts,” Bud explained to Mitch. “He even liquidated their stock portfolio. Well over a hundred thousand dollars altogether. And he used their joint Visa card to buy two airplane tickets to St. Croix—before Dolly could get around to freezing it.”
Mitch nodded, wondering why they were suddenly being so open with him.
“Has he filed for the divorce yet?” Jamie asked Bud.
“No, but she will,” Bud replied. “On the grounds of desertion.”
“I call it outright theft,” Red fumed. “He should be in jail. The man is a no-good con artist.”
“I wouldn’t call him no good,” Jamie said. “I’d call him damned good. He’s handsome. He’s charming. And he’s as persuasive as hell. Convinced Dolly to put his name on everything, didn’t he?”
“We can’t touch him, Red,” Bud admitted glumly. “Niles had a legal right to that money.”
“But the money in those accounts was hers ,” Red said insistently. He had grown considerably more loquacious with a couple of stiff drinks in him. And, like Bud, he was very protective of Dolly. “Those investments were hers . They do not belong to Niles Seymour and that … that … bimbo .”
“Who is the other woman?” Mitch asked.
“We don’t know,” Bud answered, reaching for his scotch. “Some little redhead he knew in Atlantic City before he met Dolly, apparently. All we can say for
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