The Principle Of Chance M Howson

  Jack Harvey had a reputation as a man who knew exactly how to please a woman. The girl in his bed couldn’t complain. She was enjoying Jack’s skilled hands exploring her perfect young body. Jack was very proud of the fact that at the age of seventy he could still satisfy a woman.

'How about his!?’ He slowly moved away and got out of bed. Lying around and answering questions wasn’t his thing.

‘Take your time gorgeous.’ Jack put on a robe and lit a cigar. He walked out to the terrace of his penthouse and surveyed the still busy streets and twinkling lights of the Los Angeles night. He consulted his expensive watch - two in the morning. He couldn’t possibly send her home at this hour. Jack didn’t want the girls he slept with to feel they had been used; - he made certain it was their choice. He had no problem picking up sexy, young, big- breasted girls. In fact, girls didn’t even want Jack to work his charm on them, they picked him and Jack rarely said no to their well-practiced smooth lines.

The girl came out to join him on the terrace, fully dressed. ‘So many lives unfolding down there.’ She whispered in his ear.

He wondered how long it would take her to ask that small favour.

‘I love this city Jack. I would do anything to make it big here.’

He wasn’t disappointed. The gentle hint had arrived! – yet he chose to ignore what she said.

‘You had a good time?’ She was a stunning girl - but they all were.  Sometimes, they could even hold a meaningful conversation.

‘You were incredible.’ She purred. ‘The best sex I’ve had in ages.’

Jack bit his lip; obviously she was the ego flattering type. A load of bullshit, but hey – he loved it.

‘What can I say sweetheart? I try!’ Jack took a step towards a glass table.

‘Little something for you… Nancy.’ He picked up a small box and congratulated himself that he had remembered her name.

‘Jack, how sweet of you.’ She gushed, inspecting the small velvet box he handed her.

‘Don’t mention it girl.’ He replied watching her carefully checking the weight of the box.

‘I’ll see myself out.’

She walked towards the door. He felt a stab of conscience, but hurriedly brushed it aside. Jack was one of Hollywood’s silver screen legends. His longish, dark hair streaked with grey was expertly styled, which gave him a youthful air. His tanned skin and toned body were due to the California sun and to his personal trainer. Good looks and charming manners made him desirable to women. Young women, who usually wanted to gain something by sleeping with Jack. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he treated women right. What was right? Dinner in a happening restaurant, a movie premier or a nightclub opening. Was it not what these young girls wanted?

Jack wasn’t selfish, he always made an effort to introduce the girls to some big shot. The clever ones were able to take it from there. He was no fool - why would they go on a date with a seventy-year-old man? He rightly presumed that the type of girls he was into wanted to be rich and famous, so he played the game.

The door slammed, she left. Jack stood there for a moment and viewed the city through the glass panel. On a side table next to him lay a pile of papers. He picked up a few sheets and soon he was lost in a world of his own. When he finally looked up, he could see the sharp lines of the beautiful morning sun rising above the city. There were certainly advantages to living in a skyscraper.

 

 Frank, the head of Orban Film Studios just celebrated his eightieth birthday. In truth, he didn’t look much older than a sixty. His sleek steel-grey hair and sharp black eyes spoke volumes. With a confident manner and immaculate appearance he presented a powerful man. Frank had worked hard all his life without wasting time on fools. If people around him wanted to make something of their lives, Frank was keen to provide an opportunity. Regardless of his age, he was still much involved in his business and showed no signs of slowing down.

Frank lived in a 1920’s style mansion overlooking the Hollywood sign, where he had just finished a workout in his gym. He felt good, ready to face the day.

‘Good morning Frank, Mr Green is here.’ Don, his personal secretary announced from the doorway.

Frank wiped the sweat off his face. ‘Ask him to wait in the morning room, and Don, offer him some breakfast.’

The clock on the wall showed six in the morning. Mr Green, a private detective had worked on different assignments before and Frank was well aware of the fact that the man had most likely been up all night to deliver a result.

‘He said it’s important.’ Don hesitated.

‘Did he?’ He experienced a mild excitement – he must have the information Frank wanted.

‘Tell him I won’t be long.’

‘What time will you need the car this morning?’

‘Have it ready for eight.’ Frank gave himself an hour to spare before it was time to leave for the studio.

‘Want to share the car with me?’ Frank asked.

‘No thank you. I have arranged a meeting in the West side office with one of the producers.’

‘Problems?’

‘Nothing we can’t handle.’

‘They always try it on Don!’ Frank stepped into his personal elevator.

‘Yes Frank, they do.’

As Frank made his way upstairs, he deliberated on what news the private detective had for him. Was it worthwhile to investigate further or better to leave it alone?

In his dressing room, his personal butler, a man Frank rarely saw, had already laid out his clothes. Everything was in order; made-to-measure expensive suit, silk tie, crisp white shirt and handmade leather shoes. One important rule in business – make a good first impression.

He remembered some of the actors he had worked with in the forties. What a dirty, boozing and partying bunch they had been. Whenever they arrived on a film set usually late, they always stank of alcohol and tobacco. Nevertheless, women still fainted over their photographs. Yet, there were also decent actors, hardworking people who made a good living out of acting and they had helped to expand the movie business.

After a jet stream shower, he dressed carefully, checked his appearance in the full-length mirror, adjusted his tie, splashed on some aftershave and was ready to face the day.

Downstairs, in the breakfast room, Frank saw a nervous-looking man drinking from a china cup. The minute Frank appeared, he jumped to his feet nearly spilling the contents.

‘Good morning Mr Orban.’ He said, desperately trying to keep his hands from trembling.

‘Morning, sit down, Mr Green.’ The man’s clumsiness amused Frank for a moment.

Mr Green sat down and began to search in his briefcase, taking out a stack of documents.

‘Finish your coffee man and have some toast.’

‘No, thank you very much, very kind.’ He said nervously. ‘Here is what I found Mr Orban.’ He quickly filled the table with documents.

Frank didn’t want to read reports this early. ‘All right, spill the facts.’ He said, filling up his glass with fresh orange juice.

‘Mr Orban, you might be interested to see these!’ Mr Green spread out some photographs in front of Frank.

‘Photos? Put them away!’

‘I thought…’

‘Continue, - you got some facts for me?’  

‘Of course, everything is here.’ Mr Green quickly put everything back into an envelope and gave it to Frank.

‘Great job!’ Frank placed it on the table next to his coffee.

‘Your payment.’

‘Thank you. If you need …’ He stammered his words as he accepted a stack of bills from Frank.

‘I know where to find you.’

Frank stood up to leave, his business was finished here. ‘Don’t leave this room until you’ve had some food!’

‘Thank you, but I need to be going.’ The nervous man said. He wriggled up from the table, gripping his briefcase.

‘You have time.’ Frank said, fixing him with a stern look.

‘Yes.’ Mr Green said, giving in. He sat down again.

‘Good, that’s what I like to see.’ Frank manufactured a smile.

‘Yes …’

‘Good buy Mr Green.’ Frank opened the door and was gone.

He was met by his driver in the front hall at precisely eight o’ clock.

‘Ready Joe?’

‘Yes Mr Orban. The car is waiting for you.’ Joe informed him.

‘On time as usual, Joe.’

‘Thank you, Mr Orban.’

The exquisite Rolls Royce was one of Frank’s highly prized indulgences. Before he could collect his thoughts, his phone rang and the day began.