Hollywood Husbands by Jackie Collins Page A

hauled himself up. Rocky would be getting panicky. Better put him out of his misery.

Chapter Eleven
    Poppy Soloman was getting dressed, and when Poppy got ready for a party – watch out!
    Howard repaired to his own bathroom, locked the door, and had his second snort of the day. Cocaine. A little habit he had been indulging in for a few months now.
    Carefully he laid out the white powder on a special mirror-topped tray, coaxed it into two neat lines, and with the help of a straw, snorted it into his nostrils. One long, deep breath and the rush was incredible. Better than sex. Better than anything. Howard felt like he could own the world. He did own the world. He owned a fucking studio, for Christ’s sake. Well, not exactly owned it, ran it. The same thing. It gave him the power he wanted, only to really enjoy the power he needed an occasional snort. Nothing habit-forming, mind you. Howard knew when enough was enough, and duly limited himself. Once in the morning to get off on the right foot. And once in the evening only if they were going out or entertaining at home. Since they went out or entertained every night, he regularly snorted twice a day. Not such a terrible thing. Some actors, producers and studio people couldn’t get through a meeting without visiting the john three times.
    Howard considered himself a very conservative user, one who could certainly never get hooked. Stopping was no problem. But why stop something that made you feel so goddamn good?
    Howard had concerns. Once you reached the top, where else was there to go but down? And the pressure was on.
    A huge conglomerate owned Orpheus Studios, headed by Zachary K. Klinger, a major powerhouse. Zachary K. liked Howard – in fact it was he who had chosen him for the top position. But that was now. What if Howard was unable to deliver? Zachary K. wanted box office giants in whammo grossing movies. He wanted Howard to turn the failing fortunes of Orpheus around, and he wanted him to do it fast. Maybe too fast.
    Picking a movie that’s going to soar is like singling out a puppy from a large litter. You could end up choosing the runt – whatever its pedigree.
    Howard sweated every time he had to make a decision. But now, with the coke to fortify him, he decided that in the few months he had been at the helm he had done a marvellous job. His first move had been to pick up a couple of sleepers for distribution – which meant he took two small independently produced movies, and had Orpheus distribute them as they were short of product. The results were sensational. Both films went through the roof. Howard was a hero.
    Now all he had to do was oversee some hits of his own. Just make absolutely sure that every new picture he gave the green light to was a potential smash.
    The following month Zachary K. was coming to town to check up on progress. Not that he didn’t get a daily report from one of his spies. Howard knew for a fact that there were at least two stationed in key jobs.
    He wasn’t going to let it bother him. Nothing bothered him. Look what he had done with his life. He was a genius, for crissakes.
    * * *
    Howard Soloman was born when he was sixteen, and his mother divorced his father, fled from Philadelphia to Colorado, and shortly after, married Temple Soloman. He couldn’t wait to change his name from Jessie Howard Judah Lipski to the much more simple Howard Soloman. What an escape! His natural father was a rabbi, a cruel, hard man who treated both his wife and son as if they had been put on this earth solely to do his bidding, and he made sure that their lives were pure misery. When Howard – or Jessie as he was then – reached his teenage years he begged his mother to get out. ‘I’m going,’ he told her, ‘an’ you’d better come with me.’
    She didn’t take much persuading, and one dark night they fled to New York, and from there to Colorado, where an old school friend of his mother’s put them up. It was like getting out of prison,