Lady Boss by Jackie Collins Page B

Olive busied herself at the blender, Mickey called his head of production, Ford Werne, at home. He told Ford he wanted a private discussion before the regular Monday morning meeting of all the department heads.
    Ford agreed, although he wasn’t happy about having to leave his house in the Palisades an hour earlier than usual.
    Mickey sipped his fresh carrot juice and studied the list of stars with current production deals at Panther. It was quite a list. There were six of them. Six superstars. And Mickey Stolli had them all tied up.
    * * *
    At one time Virginia Venus Maria Sierra was nothing more than a scrawny American-born Italian kid who lived in Brooklyn with her widowed father and four older brothers. She worked like a modern-day Cinderella looking after them: cooking, cleaning, shopping, washing, and ironing – whatever there was to do, it was her job.
    Virginia Venus Maria Sierra was a conscientious girl. She devoted her young life to her family of males, and in return they took her totally for granted. As far as they were concerned she was a woman, and it was her mission to attend to their every need. So naturally, it came as a nasty surprise and quite a shock for all of them when one day she left home and ran off with Ron Machio, the long-haired gay son of a neighbour, who danced for a living in Broadway shows.
    â€˜What kind of a whore slut have I raised?’ shouted her father in an almighty rage.
    â€˜We’ll beat the fag punk’s brains out!’ screamed her brothers, equally angry.
    Virginia Venus Maria Sierra was no fool. She heard of their threats and she and Ron took to the road, hitching their way across country until they reached California, the promised land – and eventually, after many adventures, Hollywood.
    Ah… Hollywood. Nirvana. Paradise. Palm trees, sunshine, and agents. Virginia Venus Maria Sierra and Ron were at peace, they knew they’d found heaven. Destiny hovered overhead, and all they had to do was reach up and touch.
    Actually they had to do a lot more than that. They had to scrape the bottom and rise slowly – Ron as a choreographer, and Venus Maria (the adaptation of her name she decided on) as a movie extra who performed in underground clubs as a singer/dancer/actress.
    Between gigs they sampled a variety of jobs. Ron attempted waitering, messengering, and chauffeuring, while Venus Maria worked in a supermarket, a bank, and finally as a nude model for an art class.
    â€˜Surely all those strange people staring at your naked body makes your flesh
shrivel?
’ Ron shuddered.
    â€˜No way. I get off on it,’ Venus Maria replied confidently, shaking her newly dyed platinum-blond curls, while pursing freshly glossed lips. ‘I
looove
to watch ’em drool! It’s a real kick.’
    At that precise moment Ron Machio knew for certain that Virginia Venus Maria Sierra was going to be an enormous star.
    It took several years, but sure enough it happened. Eventually Venus Maria was discovered by a small-time record producer who hung out at the same all-night clubs that she and Ron frequented. With some heavy persuasion she got him to cut a record with her, and then she and Ron put together an outrageous, sexy, and controversial video to go with it. Venus Maria planned the look and the style, while Ron came up with all the right moves.
    Overnight she scored – a lightning strike, for within six weeks the record was number one and Venus Maria was launched.
    Now, three years later, at the age of twenty-five, she was a superstar, a cult figure, an icon.
    Venus Maria had it made.
    * * *
    Caught in a seventies time warp, Charlie Dollar was permanently stoned, a joint never far from his reach.
    Charlie was hardly your average matinee idol. He was overweight with a comfortable gut, fifty years old, and balding. But when Charlie Dollar smiled, the world lit up, and every female around got itchy pants, for Charlie possessed a particular wild, stoned