'Volume governs the percentages and if I supply the volume, I shouldn't be burdened with ordinary percentages.
I want some of the gravy, as you picture people call it.'
" 'I couldn't afford it,' I says. 'The way the picture business is going,' he says, 'you can't afford not to.'
'My board of directors would never approve it,' I says.
He gets up, smiling. 'They will,' he says. 'Give 'em a couple of years an' they will. Why don't you take a piss long as you're here,' he says.
I’m so surprised I walk over to the urinal. When I turn around, he's already gone.
The next morning, before I get on the train, I try to locate him but nobody seems to know where he is.
His office don't even know he's in New York. He disappeared completely."
Bernie looked down at his desk. "A real meshuggeneh, I tell you."
David smiled.
"I told you he'd learn fast. His arithmetic is right, you know."
His uncle looked up at him.
"Don't you think I know it's right?" he asked.
"But is he so poor that I have to give him bread from my own mouth?"
"If you'll follow me, sir," the butler said politely. "Miss Marlowe is in the solarium."
David nodded and followed silently up the staircase and to the back of the house.
The butler halted before a door and knocked.
"Mr. Woolf is here, mum."
"Tell him to come in," Rina called through the closed door.
The butler held the door open. David blinked as the bright California sun suddenly spilled down on him.
The roof of the room was a clear glass dome and the sides were of glass, too.
There was a tall screen at the far end of the room. Rina's voice came from behind it.
"Help yourself to a drink from the bar.
I’ll be out in a minute."
He looked around and located the bar in the corner. There were casual, canvas-covered chairs scattered all about the room and a large white rug over most of the floor.
Ilene Gaillard came out from behind the screen.
She was wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled to just above her elbows, and black man-tailored slacks that clung tightly to her narrow hips. Her white-streaked hair was brushed back in a severe straight line.
"Hello, David. Let me help you."
"Thanks, Ilene."
"Make another Martini for me," Rina called from behind the screen.
Ilene didn't answer.
She looked at David. "What will it be?"
"Scotch and water," he answered. "Just a little ice."
"O.K.," she said, her hands already moving deftly behind the bar.
She held the drink toward him. "There, how's that?"
He tasted it.
"Great."
"Got my Martini ready?" Rina said from behind him.
He turned.
She was just coming from behind the screen, tying a white terry-cloth robe around her.
From the glimpse he caught of the tanned thigh beneath the robe as she moved, he guessed she was wearing nothing underneath.
"Hello, Rina."
"Hello, David," she answered.
She looked at Ilene. "Where's my drink?"
"David's obviously here on business," Ilene said. "Why don't you wait until after you've had your talk?"
"Don't be so bossy!" Rina snapped. "Make the drink!" She turned to David. "My father gave me Martinis when I was a child. I can drink them like water.
Ilene doesn't seem to understand that."
"Here." Ilene's voice was clipped.
Rina took the Martini from her.
"Cheers, David."