Billy nodded. “And you will! I’ll give you work in my comedies as soon as you’re ready. This is a crazy town, let me warn you, but I can help you over the hard spots.”
She gazed up at him in wonder. “You’re not a bit like you are in pictures. You’re so solemn.”
The boyish-looking actor managed a small smile. “People are inclined to confuse the screen image with the real person. You’ll have a lot of surprises here in Hollywood as you meet your favorite stars.”
“Marty said you and Fatty Arbuckle were good friends. Or you were before he got into all that trouble.”
“Roscoe and I are still friends,” Billy sighed. “He’s a sad case and I don’t know what will become of him. No one will touch his films and he ought to leave Hollywood. But he can’t seem to bring himself to do it.”
“You’re so famous!” she said wonderingly.
He shook his head. “Limited fame, I promise you. I’m a star of two-reelers. And today that’s the small end of the business. The features are everything. Chaplin, Keaton and all the big names are making long comedies.”
“Why don’t you?”
“No one wants to back me in a feature. They think I’m best in two-reelers. Until I can convince them differently I’ll stay in the short stuff.”
“The two-reelers are important,” she said loyally. “I think they are the part of the program everyone enjoys most.”
“I hope it stays that way,” Billy Bowers said. “But it’s getting late and you’re not supposed to overdo. I’ll go now.”
“Thank you for everything,” she said, stretching her good hand out to him.
The star took it and held it for a moment. His eyes met hers with great earnestness and he said, “Don’t worry about anything! Get better for Marty’s sake!”
Then he was gone. Nita watched after him, thinking what an odd meeting it had been. Marty had always planned a boisterous reunion with his friend with plenty of drinks for them all. How different it had turned out! From what she could tell by observing him, Billy Bowers was a much more steady type than Marty. Yet she knew the two had once been very close and the friendship apparently continued to mean much to the comedy star. She was surprised by his modest appraisal of his talents and the fact that two-reeler stars were not particularly well thought of in Hollywood.
Slowly Nita came back to health until finally the afternoon came when Billy Bowers was to pick her up and take her to his home. She was able to look after her own packing and the sight of her battered suitcase on her bed brought back sad memories of the accident. As she straightened things out in the suitcase she came upon her precious doll. It had come through the crash without harm. She smiled at it wistfully and moved it so that it opened and closed its eyes.
A voice behind her with an amused edge suggested, “I would expect you to be somewhat beyond the age of dolls.”
She turned to see that it was young Dr. Phillip Watters who had seen her through her ordeal. She smiled wryly, still holding the doll in her hands. “It has a special meaning for me,” she said. “We’ve travelled a long way together. I used to believe it brought me luck.”
“Don’t let me come between friends,” the young doctor said. “I’m sure you’re both glad to be leaving us.”
Nita put the doll back in the suitcase and turned to him to tell him, “I shall never forget your kindness.”
“No more than my regular duties,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “By the way, we’re both leaving the hospital at almost the same time.”
“I don’t understand.”
He smiled. “I’m taking another job. Master Films have made me an excellent offer to be their studio physician. I’m leaving tomorrow to take over there.”
She said, “Do you think you can do as important work there as you’re doing here?”
“I have given that a good deal of thought,” he admitted. “And I think the position will be worthwhile. The studios are faced with all sorts of medical problems.”
“I wish you luck, then,” she said, holding out her hand.
He took her hand. “And I wish the same to you. Mr. Bowers tells me he has plans for you in films, so perhaps our paths will cross.”
“I hope so,” she said sincerely.
After he left, Nita completed the task of packing. The young doctor had made all the difference in her speedy recovery. She was amazed at how well he seemed to understand her and how easily they got along together. She was still thinking about him when Billy Bowers came for her in his Cadillac.
The star carried her suitcase and took her out a side door of the hospital to the waiting car. A husky, middle-aged man with a puglilist’s battered face was waiting for them. Billy at once handed her suitcase to the big man.
“This is Murphy,” he said. “He’s my man of all work. He combines chauffeur, secretary and bodyguard in one, as well as being my physical fitness instructor. This is Nita Nolan, Murph.”
Murphy gave her a warm, Irish smile. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Nolan.”
“And I to meet you,” she said, liking him at once. “I need some Irish around me to feel at home.”
“There are plenty of us here in Hollywood,” Murphy told her with good humor as he stowed her suitcase away and saw them safely in the back seat of the car. Then he took the wheel to drive them to Billy’s home in an affluent section of the film city.
Nita thought that Billy Bowers looked taut and haggard as she sat next to him in the glaring sunshine. In films he definitely looked more boyish. She could see now that he was a good many years older than Marty.
The comedian gave her an uneasy smile and said, “I’m going to start you working right away.”
“Fine,” she said. “I need to have my mind occupied.”
“We’re working on a comedy now,” he went on. “And day after tomorrow we’re shooting a scene in which I try to elope with a girl against her father’s wishes. I’ve arranged for you to play the girl.”
“Knowing I have no film experience?”
“You can do it,” he said. “I’m part owner of the company that turns the two reelers out. Hammons only owns forty per cent. The rest is mine.”
“I see,” she said. “So you control it.”
“In almost everything,” he agreed.
“Could you make a long film if you wished? You said you wanted to.”
Billy Bowers shook his head. “I’d never get Hammons to agree to it. If I insisted I’m sure he’d sell the company shares he owns to someone else. And he’s too good a production manager to lose.”
She accepted this explanation and turned her attention to the wide boulevards lined with rich, green bushes and occasional palm trees. Behind the trees were the homes of the more successful Hollywood stars and executives.
They finally reached Billy’s home, a brown stucco building in Mexican hacienda style. It had a kidney shaped pool at the rear surrounded by a large stone patio and a cabana also of Mexican design. A maid came out and Murphy gave the elderly woman Nita’s bag, which she took inside.
Billy smiled at Nita as he accompanied her to the entrance door, saying, “I want you to feel at home here.”
“I’m afraid I’m intruding,” she protested.
“Not so. This is the least I can do for Marty. And for you.”
“I’ll try to repay your kindness,” she promised.
He took her inside where it was shadowed and very quiet. As time progressed, she was to be further amazed at the silence of the sprawling big house. It was a distance back from the street and surrounded with a heavy, exotic growth of trees and shrubbery. Inside there was hardly ever a sound. It reminded Nita of the reading room of the Public Library back in Lynn. She’d thought a lot about Lynn during her recovery. There had been warm letters of sympathy from Marty’s parents but only a rather cool note from her own mother. She was not yet forgiven for running away.
Billy led her to the open doorway of a room in the right wing of his mansion. It was a huge bedroom furnished tastefully in the Spanish style. The furniture was dark and elegantly carved. He said, “This will be your room while you are here. In fact, the entire wing will be yours.”
“It’s much more than I need!”
“I’m glad to have someone in the house,” the comedian told her.
She said, “I’ll promise not to bother you.”
“That would be impossible,” Billy said. “I have my own section of the house. The servants have the wing at the other end. We have space to spare.” He halted and then added, “There is just one thing.”
“Oh?”
He frowned. “I have frequent migraine headaches. They strike when I least expect them. When they come I lock myself in my part of the house and must have absolute quiet.”
She was concerned. “Do they bother you often?”
“Enough to be a nuisance.”
“Has no one been able to help you?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “But I’ve learned to deal with them.”
“I’m glad.”
He gave her a wary look. “The thing is that you mustn’t be upset when I have an attack. Don’t try to reach me or cause any noise in the house.”
“Be sure that I’ll be considerate,” she promised.
He lost his gloomy look and seemed pleased. “So that settles that,” he said. “I’ll give you a chance to move in and then we can have lunch by the poolside.”
Nita changed into a blue linen dress and went out to join Billy. Murphy in shirt-sleeves waited on them. They had salad, melon and coffee under the shelter of the table umbrellas.
Billy studied her across the table. “How do you like it?”
“It’s a palace! I only wish Marty had lived to see it!”
“And I,” he agreed.
Nita gave him an anxious glance. “You must keep a strict account of all you spend. I intend to pay you back.”
“No need.”
“Marty would want it that way,” she said firmly.
“As you like,” Billy said without further argument. He wore slacks and a white shirt with short sleeves, open at the throat. “Tomorrow night I’m taking you to Charles Ray’s house for a party.”
“Charles Ray who starred in The Coward’?” she exclaimed with awe.
Billy smiled his crooked smile. “He’s the only Charles Ray I know of in Hollywood.”
“I won’t know how to act!”
“Just be yourself and they’ll like you,” he said. “A lot of the people who’ll be there were once in vaudeville or on the stage. And there’ll be some of the business people as well. A lot of them were running nickleodeons back East a few years ago. There is plenty of money here but not a lot of real class!”
“What about people like De Mille and D.W. Griffith?” Nita wanted to know.
“They keep to themselves,” he said. “Have their own small circle socially. But they don’t even rank with the true Los Angeles society out here. Not one of them can belong to the exclusive country clubs.”
He talked on and she began to understand that except in their own circle, movie people in Hollywood were no more accepted than were show people anywhere else. The stigma of grease paint and footlights continued on the West Coast under the klieg lights and before the cameras. But it was still a magical world that she aspired to, just as Marty had, and she wanted to make her way in it. Become a star if she could.
Billy seemed to have read her thoughts, as he told her, “I think you have the looks and personality for movies. But a word of warning. Don’t think it will be easy.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” she agreed.
“The hours are long and the work is hard,” he told her. “There will be men along the way who’ll offer you short cuts. In every case they’ll ask a price. And often when you’d kept your part of the bargain, they’ll conveniently forget all about you.”
Her cheeks crimsoned. “Marty spoke of that. He said the studios were known to have a lot of casting couch experts.”
“Marty knew,” Billy said grimly. “A few stars have made it that way. But you’ll do better to avoid those couches.”
“I have you to help me get started,” she said.
“I can only help you so far. After that you’ll be on your own,” he said. “That’s why I’m being frank with you about the hazards.”
She said suddenly, “You were married once.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
He sighed and sat back in his lounge chair. “Mary had big ambitions. She met a director who made her a lot of promises. She left me to live with him.”
“And it didn’t work out?”
He stared at her. “Don’t tell me you haven’t read about it in the papers or the fan magazines?”
“No,” she said, regretting now that she had brought the matter up.
“I forget you’re just a kid,” he said, staring at her. “It happened three years ago.”
“I was still in parochial shool. I didn’t read the papers much.”
“Mary killed herself,” he said without emotion. “They found her in a rundown hotel in Los Angeles with her wrists slashed. Her director friend had not only not kept his promises but had deserted her.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, distressed.
“It’s an old story,” he told her. “I thought everyone knew.”
“I didn’t hear of it before. Marty didn’t tell me.”
Billy smiled wryly. “He was probably afraid it might make you think twice about coming to Hollywood. By the way, you can sleep late in the morning. Murphy or Mrs. Case will bring your breakfast. And I must ask you to excuse me for tonight. I think one of my bad headaches is coming on and I will have to rest.”
“Don’t let me upset your regular routine,” Nita said.
“I won’t,” he promised quietly. He came over to her as she also rose from the table and taking her by the arms he gave her a gentle kiss. Then he nodded and walked back into the house, leaving her alone by the swimming pool.
His gesture had been entirely unexpected. During her time in the hospital he had been a model of reserve. He had often kissed her on the cheek or temple but never on the lips, and never before with such warmth such as he had shown now. She had never though of the shy, rather haggard man as a romantic type, especially not in relation to herself.
She could only assume he was trying to be kind to her because he was Marty’s good friend. But his kiss now made her wonder if he might be interested in her on his own. Could it be that he was falling in love with her? If so, she was entirely unprepared for it. Following the shock of losing Marty she had concentrated on surviving, made stronger by her plans for a career of her own, and encouraged by the young doctor in charge of her case.