“Not on this job.”
“You’re ahead of yourself. Sol hasn’t offered me anything.”
“Then it’s a good time to move along, before it comes up. Fort Roach. Wherever. You don’t want to disappoint Mr. L, either.”
“How would I do that?”
“By having to say no. The job’s filled.”
Ben gave a quick half smile. “You really want this,” he said, an echo.
Bunny looked up at him. “I already have it. Now take yourself out of it.”
“That’s not up to me. Or you. Sol’s still head of the studio.”
Bunny shook his head. “Not anymore. But that’s something we’ll keep to ourselves, shall we? Feelings being what they are. Acting Head is fine with me. Mr. L can live with that. As long as he does. Let’s make it easier on everybody.”
“And what’s the favor? Go away? Why?”
“For Fay.”
“Fay?” Ben said, surprised.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about running a studio. The first thing—I’ll bet it’s never even occurred to you—is who owns it.”
“Sol owns it,” Ben said, suddenly not sure.
“Not all of it. Not enough. You know that Rex still has his original eight percent. He’s very excited about the television deal. Sam owns a piece, too, did you know? And I’m happy to say he feels very confident about the direction we’re taking. So does New York. Very panicky they get when there’s a health problem. They like a certain stability. That leaves Sol. Or, rather, Fay. I have enough voting stock to do it without her—I’m already running the studio, which seems to escape you. But it would be much nicer with. One happy family, not taking sides, squabbling over something that isn’t going to happen anyway.” Another direct look at Ben. “Some deathbed whim. Fay’s been lovely to me. I’d like it to be her idea, too. Sol’s idea. Not something that was forced on them in a proxy fight. And it wouldn’t be, if you weren’t here.”
“You really want this,” Ben said quietly.
“It’s not a lot to ask, considering, do you think? Think of all the favors I’ll have to do for Polly now, because of you.”
“Don’t do me—”
“Well, it’s not just you, is it? Polly’s a girl who hates being stood up. Vindictive, really. She still thinks you’re holding out on her. But we don’t want her going after you, opening things up. Looking into accidents. I’ve got seventeen writers and I’d still rather just let things lie as they are. Think of all the people involved. Luckily, Polly likes access to studio heads. She’s not one to hold a grudge when there’s so much else she might be doing. And of course, if you’re not here, to put her in a temper—out of sight, out of mind.”
“She won’t be out of Minot’s mind.”
“Oh, they’ll make up. Well, at least go back to their corners. They need each other, when all’s said and done, always a point. A little go-between work and before you know it, it’s lunch at Chasen’s and off we go. It’s you they won’t forgive. There’s nothing you can do for them.”
“Only for you.”
“For Fay, really. No point in having any unpleasantness. Especially when it’s done.”
“You’re sure. Maybe you underestimate me.”
“No. I did. Not anymore. Why do you think we’re having this chat at all? This time, we need to understand each other. Lou,” he said, voice raised, eyes over Ben’s shoulders. “Good to see you. You know Lou Katz, from Abe Lastfogel’s office?”
“Nice to meet you. Jesus, this is some night.”
“Wait’ll you see it.”
“I hear, I hear. Listen, we should talk sometime about Julie. Who does a musical for two hundred dollars a week? I mean, it’s wonderful what you’re doing, a production like that at Continental? But she’s wonderful, too.”
Bunny nodded. “So let’s keep her happy. Monday, okay? We keep the steps, but we can do something on the front end. Just don’t plead poverty. Not the Morris office.”
“What, it’s for her. She’s still in some crappy efficiency on La Brea.”
“Not after this.”
“Zanuck never saw it.”
“Well, Sam Pilcer. He’s got an eye. You know Ben Collier? He’s producing a documentary for us. The end of the war. Footage you won’t believe.” He looked at Ben. “We think it’s an important picture. San Pietro, in that class. Awards, even.”
“Jesus, at Continental. How’s Sol? I hear so-so. That was something, though, wasn’t it? What he pulled with that fuck Minot?”