Free The Inheritors by Harold Robbins Page A

slapped her again just to let her know I meant it. Then I turned and dragged her after me toward the stage. The crowd in the doorway parted silently to let us pass.
    The crawl was already on the monitors when we reached the wings, the announcer’s voice came from the speakers. “STV proudly presents… JANA REYNOLDS… LIVE!”
    She twisted toward me. Her voice was shaking. “I can’t… I can’t… I’m frightened!”
    “That makes two of us,” I said, turning her toward the stage. I put my foot on her ass and shot her out over the wires and cables to the center stage.
    It was a miracle she didn’t fall. She just had time to straighten up and glance at me. I grinned and gestured a “thumbs up” at her. She turned toward the audience as the curtain arced open and up.
    The orchestra went into her theme song and for almost a minute you couldn’t hear her voice because of the thunderous applause. They all knew the song. “Sing from the Heart.” It had been her very own since she was fifteen years old.
    I stood there watching her. It was like not to be believed. Whatever else was wrong and crooked inside her it wasn’t her voice. Maybe not as young as it once was, maybe not as strong. But there was a magic there. A beauty, a sadness, a pain and a kind of joy too. For fourteen minutes until the first commercial, she just stood there and sang.
    When she came off, she was sopping wet and half fell into my arms. I could feel her shaking. The audience was roaring. “They liked me,” she whispered almost as if she couldn’t believe it.
    “They loved you.” I turned her back to the stage. “Go back out there and take a bow.”
    She looked up at me. “But it will throw the timing of the show off.”
    “To hell with it,” I said, pushing her toward the stage. “The name of the show is ‘Jana Reynolds… Live.’”
    She went back out and took her bow. When she came back, she was glowing.
    “Now get back to your dressing room for your change,” I said.
    She kissed me quickly on the cheek and hurried off. I looked after her. I never told her that her bow didn’t get on the air. The only thing that television never interrupts is the commercial.
    Then I went looking for the couple we had hired to keep an eye on her. I finally found them alone in a small viewing room at the rear of the stage. She was jumping up and down in his lap. They were too engrossed to hear me enter.
    I crossed the room swiftly, put a hand under each arm, and lifted her.
    “What the hell—” the man said.
    The girl sprawled on the floor.
    I looked at him as he tried to zip up his pants. “Where were you when the lights went out?” I asked.
    “We got her to the theater,” he said sullenly.
    The girl was on her feet now. “You weren’t supposed to leave her alone. Not for a minute,” I said.
    “She was all right when we put her in her dressing room,” she said.
    “That’s just it. You weren’t supposed to leave her,” I said. “You’re both fired.”
    Twenty minutes later I had a new pair of watchdogs. Carefully I laid it out for them. They nodded. They knew the score. This wasn’t the first time they had a job like this. This was Hollywood.
    “After the second show, you take her right back to the spa,” I said. The first show was beamed to the eastern and central time zones, there was still a second show to do for the coast. “You bring her back here on Tuesday for rehearsals and you stay with her. She does nothing alone. Eat, sleep, or sex without one of you there, understand?”
    I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to six. I’d have to get moving if I wanted to make the seven o’clock flight back to New York.
    I stopped and looked up at one of the monitors as I was leaving. She was singing again and she looked absolutely beautiful.
    Suddenly I was tired. I didn’t know how many more of these miracles I could take. I could sleep for a week. But there wasn’t time.
    I wanted to be in New York tomorrow morning for