La Fleur Rouge The Red Flower Read online

  When he opened up, their eyes locked, and her heart did a flip-flop. She couldn’t take her gaze away from him. He was younger than she had expected - only twenty-eight.

  His handsome face set her pulse racing. This completely unnerved her, and she almost forgot why she was here. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Neither could he. Her determination slowly drained from her.

  He was the first to recover. “Yes,” he smiled, “how can I help you?”

  Then she remembered why she came, and her courage returned. She took a deep breath in an effort to regain her composure. “Mr. Stuart,” she said firmly, “I’m Hilary Simone. I have to talk to you. I - “

  She didn’t get the chance to finish.

  The moment she told him who she was his whole attitude changed. He looked disappointed. Little did she dream she was in for still another shock.

  He stiffened. “Miss Simone,” he interrupted, “I don’t think we have anything to discuss. Greg is a very talented man. He doesn’t need to steal from you or anyone else.”

  “Then why did he?” The words came tumbling out before she could stop them.

  “He didn’t!” Jay snapped. “Why do you insist that he did?”

  Hilary opened her mouth to say something more, but Jay stopped her.

  “Greg has just come up with the greatest musical he’s ever written, and I’m not going to let anything spoil it for him! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it doesn’t wash.” He sounded reluctant as he continued. “I’m sorry about this. He obviously thinks the world of you if he asked you to marry him. Now, please excuse me. I have a plane to catch. Goodbye, Miss Simone.”

  Hilary stared at the closed door. She turned and walked to the elevator. In a trance she went down to the underground garage and got into her car. She didn’t remember driving home till she found herself on her sofa, sobbing with frustration and anger.

  At the time she wrote the musical she mailed herself a common-law copyright - a copy of her musical in an envelope with a dated postmark, not to be opened unless proof was needed that she was the author. She felt secure with this, deciding to copyright it later at the Library Of Congress in Washington, D.C., and register it at The Writer’s Guild in Los Angeles. But she never dreamed something like this would happen. She had trusted Greg.

  As soon as she recovered from the first shock, she called a lawyer to see if he wouldn’t take the case on a contingency basis, but when he heard the name “Gregory Wilcox,” he said, “We’ll never win. He’s too well known. He’ll just claim that the common-law copyright is a fake. He has some pretty shrewd lawyers. You don’t stand a chance.”

  Hilary decided her only choice was to move away from Boston as far as she could to get away from Greg and his lies, and to escape his threats.

  CHAPTER V

  BACK TO THE PRESENT - 1956

  In the following two years Greg, true to his word, had tracked her every move, making sure the truth would never come out, ruining her chances for success. And the crowning blow came when “The Ginger Jar” known as “The Pepper Pot,” with Greg’s name on it, was a smash hit. Not a note of music or a word of script had been changed - - just the title and the author.

  After Greg chased her down again, Hilary - now Hildy - left Arizona and came to California. But this time she disguised herself.

  A horn from a passing car jolted her back to the present as she tried to shake off these horrible memories. That was two years ago. But the memories were still there, haunting her as she drove along. She kept seeing Jay Stuart’s face as he closed the door of his hotel room. She tried to convince herself that she hated him, but why did her heart race every time she thought of him? Could this be one of those “love at first sight” things? Don’t be ridiculous! How could I love him after the way he treated me?

  She turned off the Hollywood Freeway to the Harbor Freeway and exited the Torrance Boulevard off ramp.

  It was dusk now, and as she drove along Palos Verdes Drive she was awestruck by the spectacular beauty of the sunset. Never in her life had she seen such brilliant corals and blues and pinks. The colors hung over the ocean in all their glorified splendor, like a promise of a bright future. As she watched it, she asked herself - why can’t my life be as rosy as that? Is that too much to ask?

  Hildy had been staying with Jenny a little over a month now. This lovely home on a cliff over the ocean was so peaceful and breathtaking it had inspired her to finish a half done new musical, “La Fleur Rouge.” The sound of the waves and the sea gulls was music to her ears, and lovely, new melodies floated into her head, till it was impossible not to put them down on paper. She had just finished it when she saw an article in one of the show business tabloids about a well known, highly respected, young black director-producer, Peter Graff, who was interested in filming a musical as good as “The Pepper Pot.” This was all the incentive she needed to give her the courage to call him.

  The setting of her new musical was in France. How she wished he would choose hers, if only to get her out of the country and away from Gregory Wilcox’s attempts to ruin her life and career! She had always wanted to visit her father’s native land, and she spoke French fluently. But after three weeks passed and she heard nothing further, she had all but given up hope.

  She reached Jenny’s home and drove into the driveway. She argued with herself that Greg had nothing to do with Peter Graff not calling her. How could he possibly know where I am? I look completely different. I’m Hildy Swenson now - no longer Hilary Simone. And he hasn’t seen me for two years.

  She parked the car under the porte-cochere and entered the house. As she walked over to the French doors which led to the patio, she could hear Jenny diving into the pool. “Jenny,” she called, “I’ll be there as soon as I change.”

  She watched as Jenny climbed out and made her way over to one of the chaise lounges. She was wearing a bikini, and her ebony skinned, perfectly shaped body, still wet from her swim, shimmered in the bright California sunlight. Hildy was surprised that she hadn’t noticed before how thin she looked, although her face was as pretty as ever. Hildy shrugged her shoulders and dismissed it. Probably one of those crazy diets she used to go on when we were in college together.

  It didn’t take Hildy long to get out of her clothes and don her bikini. Her lithe body moved gracefully as she joined Jenny outside. She paused, drinking in the magnificent view. The white crests of the waves smiled broadly as they kissed the shore. The pool was soothing to her frazzled nerves as she dove in, and her whole body relaxed. After swimming a few laps, she stretched out in one of the chaise lounges next to Jenny.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “It’s just what we need right now.” Did Hildy imagine it, or was there a hint of fear in Jenny’s eyes as she turned and looked at her.

  Jenny blinked and smiled. “What?” she responded. “I’m ready for something a little different.”

  Hildy propped herself up on her elbow. “Let’s order Chinese and eat out here by the ocean. My treat!”

  This brought a smile to Jenny’s face. “Good idea,” she said. “We can enjoy the view while we eat.”

  “What would you like?” Hildy asked.

  The frightened look returned to Jenny’s face, and she averted her eyes. “Order whatever you like,” she said.

  Hildy was puzzled. This wasn’t like Jenny. She was usually a take charge person who knew exactly what she wanted. What in the world is bothering her? Why hasn’t she confided in me? Lord knows I’ve confided in her! I’ve bared my very soul! It’s about time I lent a helping hand instead of reaching out for one!

  They retired right after dinner. Jenny looked tired, and after the day Hildy had put in, she was tired, too.

  She tossed and turned until almost dawn. Her thoughts were racing. I’m so tired of hiding, she sighed. Will this nightmare ever end? If my musical wer
e to become the smash hit Peter is looking for, the proof of my writing ability would be enough to squelch the clout Greg uses to frighten the lawyers. I would make enough money to hire one and prove in court that I wrote “The Ginger Jar” - - “The Pepper Pot,” she corrected herself. These thoughts played tag through her head as she tried desperately to get some rest.

  She woke the next morning, fighting through clouds of sleep. As she became conscious, everything that Greg had done hit her with a thud. He had kept his promise, ruining her life, maybe even with Peter Graff. She came to with a start, feeling as though someone punched her in the stomach. “Oh, no,” she moaned, as she tried to pull herself out of a deep pit of despair. “Will I ever get back to normal?”

  She pulled the covers over her head, as if attempting to ward off an impending attack. But the feeling was still there. She looked at the clock. Ten-fifteen! With a gasp she jumped out of bed. How did it get this late?

  She reached for her robe and hurried into the bathroom. She was almost finished with her shower when she heard a knock on the door. “Jenny?” she called. “Come on in. Sorry I slept so late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Jenny held a phone in her hand. “It’s for you, Hildy. A Peter Graff. Do you know him?” she asked as she plugged the jack into the wall.

  Hildy’s pulse raced as she spoke into the phone. “This is Hildy Swenson.” She tried to sound calm, but her heart kept pounding. Then a huge grin broke over her face and she motioned excitedly to Jenny. “I certainly can, Mr. Graff. Oh,” she laughed, “okay - - Peter. I’ll be there all packed and ready to go!” She paused, listening. “Yes, I have a passport.”

  She hadn’t wanted to reveal her real name, but it was on her passport, and would be on her ticket. She couldn’t change it. That would be illegal. And she wasn’t about to forfeit this wonderful opportunity out of fear. She had to tell him.

  “Peter, my - - my passport is under my real name of Hilary Swenson Simone. Yes, I’m using my nickname and my middle name. If you don’t mind I’d like to keep this quiet.” She listened to what he was saying and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you, Peter, for understanding! Yes, I’m glad, too!”

  Her hand was shaking as she gave the phone back to her friend. “Jenny! You won’t believe this! He chose my musical! Oh!” She cheered as she whirled around the room. “I don’t believe it! I’m going to Paris!”

  “What’s so hard to believe? You’re good! It’s about time something like this came your way.”

  Hildy spoke in awestruck tones. “He said he was glad it was mine that was chosen. He thinks we’ll work well together.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you know how much this means to me?”

  Jenny interrupted her. “You sound surprised. Hildy, you have talent! Scads of it!”

  “I thought so,” Hildy grimaced, “but after Greg said - you know - that I’m just a nobody in this business, and he’d make sure no one else gave me a chance, I was tempted to give up.”

  “That’s just what he’d like you to do. Don’t let him get his way, Hildy. Do I have to remind you that the biggest Broadway hit of all time is yours? And some day you’ll prove it!”

  Hildy threw her arms around her. “You’re just what I need, Jenny. What would I do without your friendship?”

  “Aw, shucks,” Jenny answered, “what are friends for?” She made an attempt to laugh, but she looked sad. “When does he want you to leave?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Oh, Jenny, I can’t believe it’s true! Me, going to Paris to help direct my own musical! If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up!” she begged.

  “It’s no dream, Hildy. Why can’t you accept it? You deserve it. And you’ll be getting away from Greg. He’ll never find you there!”

  “Maybe things are finally looking up for me,” Hildy said.

  Jenny looked at her intently. “I was surprised to hear you give Peter Graff your real name.”

  “I had no choice,” Hildy told her. “That’s the name on my passport. And that’s the name that has to be on my ticket when I pick it up at the airport.”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t cause a problem,” Jenny said.

  “Only you and I, and now Peter, know about it,” Hildy sighed. “And he promised he wouldn’t say anything. I’m sure I can trust him. I only hope - “

  “Hope what, Hildy?” Jenny interrupted.

  “Oh, I was just thinking. Greg has managed to find me everywhere I’ve gone. I have a hunch he has a detective working on it. I’m not so worried about my name being on my passport and ticket. I’ll have those with me. But it will be on the airline computer, and any detective could uncover that.”

  “This is such a great boost to your career,” Jenny said. “He can’t spoil it for you now. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Well, you know what they say,” Hildy retorted. “’Who said life is fair?’”

  The rest of the day was spent shopping for new clothes to take with her to Paris. This gave her something to think about besides Gregory Wilcox, and what he might do next.

  As evening approached they returned to Jenny’s house. After Hildy had neatly packed her things in her suitcase, she and Jenny went out back by the pool to watch the ocean swallow the sun. Hildy did her best to shake off the cloud that was threatening her joy, and decided not to stay home and fret over the remote possibility that Greg’s shenanigans might again ruin things for her just as she was about to embark on a great, new career.

  She pushed the cloud away. “Jenny,” she said, “I’ve got a great idea! Let’s go out and have dinner. We need to celebrate!”

  “Now you’re talking!” Jenny grinned. She jumped up and ran inside. After throwing her coat around her shoulders, she brought Hildy’s out to her. “Where to?” she asked.

  Hildy thought for a minute. “How about driving up to Oxnard? It’s only about seventy-five miles. I know a great place. It’s right on the ocean, and the food is super. Oh, and this is on me. It’s my celebration and my treat!” she said as she donned her coat. “It’s mild tonight. Why don’t we take my Jaguar and put the top down? If it gets too cold we can always turn on the heater.”

  Jenny laughed. “My! Aren’t we daring! The top down and the heater on. Well, trust you to come up with something a little different.”

  Arm in arm they hurried to the car, laughing and talking as though they didn’t have a care in the world. They drove off singing a duet with the car stereo, determined to enjoy one of their last times together before Hildy left for France.

  It was well after midnight when they arrived home. The weather was still balmy. Hildy put the top up on the Jaguar, afraid the dampness might ruin the upholstered interior. Jenny moved a few things that were inside the garage to make room for Hildy’s car so it would be safe while she was in Paris.

  Hildy looked troubled as they entered the house.

  “Something’s bothering you. Come on,” Jenny coaxed, “spill it.”

  Hildy shrugged. “I can’t shake this weird feeling that I haven’t heard the last from Greg. He’s always managed to spoil things for me, and I’m afraid he’ll find out about this and do it again.”

  “How in the world will he find out?” Jenny asked, surprised. “You’ll be out of the country far away from him. I think this time you’re going to win. You’re about due!”

  “I sure hope so,” Hildy responded. “I guess I’ve just got the jitters. It all seems too good to be true.”

  “Well, it is true,” Jenny assured her. “Accept it!”

  Hildy nodded. “Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Hildy retired to her room, weary but too excited to sleep. It was two o’clock in the morning before her eyes became heavy and she was able to doze off. She woke several times during the night, but always with a feeling of exhilaration. Then the fear that Greg might catc
h up with her again tried to kill her joy. Each time she shook it off. Nothing is going to spoil this, she finally convinced herself. I’ve come this far. I’ve changed my name and my appearance. How is he going to find me? As she thought about it, the whole thing seemed so ridiculous she laughed out loud. Jenny’s right. Just because he’s done it so many times before doesn’t prove a thing.

  She was finally able to convince herself that this time she would make it without any interference from him. He couldn’t go on ruining things for her forever. She turned over and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER VI

  Gregory Wilcox sat in the den of his town house in Boston, a worried look on his face. Up till now he had found it easy to track Hilary down. But over a month had gone by since she left Arizona, and the detective he hired was having trouble finding her. How could she simply disappear? I’ve got to find her and stop her from exposing me! So far he had fooled Jay and the whole world into believing that he wrote “The Pepper Pot,” nee “The Ginger Jar,” and he must keep it that way. I’ll do anything I have to to keep her from telling the truth! he muttered under his breath.

  Anything!

  A ring on the phone interrupted his thoughts. It was the detective in California.

  “Yes, Dan! Anything?” Greg asked in an anxious voice.

  “She came to California,” Dan told him. “I’m not sure what city.”

  Greg heaved an impatient sigh.

  “Well, keep trying. And keep me posted.”

  He hung up and got ready to leave for an appointment he had with Jay Stuart, a combination late lunch and business meeting. He grabbed his warm, fiber lined jacket, threw it casually over his shoulders to ward off the early fall chill, and went down to the garage where his Rolls Royce was parked. He had an uneasy feeling someone was following him, lurking in the shadows. He shook it off and drove to his appointment.

  He arrived at the Prudential Building, a landmark in Back Bay Boston, which houses a lavish restaurant on the top floor. He drove to his special parking space in the underground garage and made his way to the elevator and up to the penthouse. As he entered the restaurant and the maitre’d led him to their reserved table, he could see Bunker Hill eighteen miles away. But he was in no mood to enjoy the view. He had one thing on his mind. How do I stop Hilary?