Free True Hollywood Lies by Josie Brown Page B

owned up to being “Simone’s eunuch.”
    “And this is Bette,” he cooed, introducing me to the dog. “She’s Miss Simone’s baby—and I do mean baby. Believe me: I ought to know, I’ve diapered both of them.”
    The thought of Simone Cavanaugh in Attends left a lot to be desired.
    The other PA, Sandra Chapman, a plump, sturdy forty-something with a tentative smile, described herself as Rex’s “executive assistant.”
    “Oh, drop the airs, Sandy!” Freddy sighed. “You’re just like the rest of us: there to wipe brow and kiss ass. Or, is that kiss brow and wipe ass?”
    Christy giggled knowingly. “Well, personally speaking, I’ve done neither—although, I have to admit, Donnie did once give me a kiss—”
    “Do tell, sister!” exclaimed Freddy coquettishly. “Are we talking the noble brow here, or your very desirable ass?”
    Christy blushed deeply. “It was nothing like that, really! What I meant was that I—well, Bethany yelled at me for making the temperature for her leg wax too hot, and Donnie saw that I was upset, and, well, he—well, he was sweet enough to give me a tiny kiss—on the cheek!” She paused, totally confused. “Believe me, it was all very innocent!”
    “Of course, sweetie,” cooed Freddy. “And if you had offered to blow him, I’m just certain he’d have turned you down.”
    “Freddy, that’s just—well, that’s just disgusting ,” sniffed Sandy. “Unlike you, Christy and I have a totally professional view of our jobs. We’d never cross that line with our employers, right, Christy? And they know that and appreciate it. Why, Rex has only the most honorable respect for me—as I’m sure Donnie has for Christy.”
    Christy had to think hard about that before nodding halfheartedly, obviously too chicken to admit a less noble rationale.
    “Don’t kid yourself, Sandy old girl! Rex ain’t showing you ‘respect.’ He’s just not into lollypop love that way. At least, not with the ladies!”
    “And just what is that supposed to mean?” hissed Sandy.
    “It means that Rex may treat you like a princess,” Freddy intoned knowingly, “but that’s only because he’s one mixed-up queen himself.”
    Ah, so that was the reason for Rex’s stilted career! Now a lot of things made sense. So, Louis had nothing to worry about after all.
    “Those are just vicious rumors,” growled Sandy. “And if people like you keep that up, it will ruin his career.”
    “Well, darling, take it from ‘people like me’: where there is smoke, there is fire. Your boy has hot pants, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. But don’t worry, I ain’t gonna be the one to out him. That old diva of mine , Miss Simone, keeps me too busy to make other people’s lives miserable.”
    “More dumpster-diving?” Sandy asked haughtily.
    “Nah, since she’s landed this gig, she’s cooled off on that—for now, anyway. Thank God the director’s mother had a soft spot for her. All we had to do was have his mama over for tea and – voila! We were in . And hell, it sure is a lot easier pilfering from the studio commissary than the trashcans in some of those fancy Beverly Hills alleyways. Too many patrol cars, you know? Some of them Beverly Hills cops should work a real beat, like South Central.”
    He patted the big tote bag at his feet. I took a peek inside and saw several soda bottles, sandwiches, bags of chips and Saran-wrapped cookies—certainly a cheaper way to eat in Beverly Hills than trotting down to the Ralph’s.
    “Of course, this gig has put an end to our sleeping in, right, Bette?” He cuddled the pug lovingly. “Nowadays we’re up-and-Adam by three, putting on Miss Simone’s face.”
    Now, that was curious. “She doesn’t get that done here, in makeup?”
    “Are you kidding? Only her hairdresser— moi —knows for sure how many scraggly split ends are left on that eggshell she calls a head. Besides, you think these girls know how to fill those moon craters in her face?