“Waive legal counsel at this time,” Eve snapped. “Yes or no. Any word other than yes, I take as a no and you’re in a cell.”
“Yes.” A note of panic escaped before he sat back, shrugged. “Why the hell not? It’s not like you two worry me. Get me a drink,” he told Peabody.
“Gee, I’d be happy to. Would you like me to make you a martini?”
“Could you?” Knightly said with a fresh sneer. “Make it a ginger ale, on ice, twist of lime.”
With a snort, and a nod from Eve, Peabody left the room.
“Peabody exiting Interview. Where do you want to start, Kyle, at the beginning or at the end?”
“You’ve barely got tits and a teenage boy’s ass. Still … How many of the brass did you have to fuck to make it to lieutenant?”
“But we’re not here to talk about my sexual habits, Kyle. This is all about you. You’re the star of the show. This whole place is buzzing about you. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even during the Icove mess.”
She paused a moment, gave him a thoughtful study. “Jesus, Nadine’s going to be all over this, probably get another book, another vid out of it, especially with the whole Oscar deal right now. I mean, look at you.”
She sighed, shook her head, could actually see him preen at the attention. “Brains, looks, money, style, and power, too. Add in a whole bunch of sex and it’s pretty heady. I hear people around here saying how Neville’s looking like a pussy, a limp-dicked pussy. I can’t argue it.”
“Because he is.”
“You sure as hell proved that. Screwing his wife right in front of his face. That shows who has the balls in the family.”
“I see what you’re doing.” Still smirking, Kyle circled a finger in the air. “You’re trying to butter me up.”
“Just saying what is. Why do you think she brushed you back the night you met, the night at that party when the three of you met?”
“She didn’t.”
“Really?” Eve frowned, consulted a file. “But she said—”
“She’s a liar. She said she was with that asshole when I gave her a tap, but she wanted me. Clear as day.”
“But … didn’t she leave with the asshole?”
“Only because I decided not to waste my time. And what does she do, she comes back.”
“To you? Do you mean later or that same night?”
“The same damn night. She used Neville, gave him the eye to get me stirred up, then she leaves with the asshole.”
“But she married Neville, even after you gave her a few more taps along the way. Did she do that to get you stirred up?”
“What do you think? You said it yourself, he’s a pussy.”
“Peabody reentering Interview.” Peabody slapped a tube of ginger ale (she’d deliberately ordered diet) on the table. “Take it or leave it.”
Kyle picked it up, cracked the tube, sipped while sending her a look of cold loathing.
“Okay, so Rosa married Neville to get you stirred up—because you’re the one she really wanted, at least sexually. And maybe—just a guess—she married him because he’s a pussy.”
Kyle shot out a finger. “Bing-fucking-o. You’re smarter than you look.”
“Smart enough to know a lot of women say one thing and mean another. Some women, probably most women, they marry a pussy because they figure they can control him, get everything they want. But a real man, a man with real balls, he controls them, and they do what he wants. Like you. People do what you want. Actors, directors, lawyers. Women.”
“I built my own studio.”
“Well, you and Neville.”
“Hell, I could’ve done it without him. I took him along for the ride.”
“It sounds like you did him a favor.”
“He’s my cousin,” Kyle pointed out. “We go back, and he’s got good ideas. He needs me to jump-start them, implement. He puts in his share, the time, the money. But I’m the one with vision.”
“So you brought him along for the ride, Rosa married him because he’s a pussy. He sure sounds like a weak sister. Does he take after his mother or his father?”
“His father’s worse than Nev, trust me. No balls, no spine. Second-rate director.”
“Interesting. Did your aunt stay married to him to stir you up, Kyle?”
Eve slid a photo of Astra Patrick out of the file.
22
Eve saw his reaction, the desire and delight flicking fast into rage.
“You know her problem?” he demanded.
“I don’t.”
“Playing it safe, locking herself into society’s rules. Look at her. I mean, just look at her. She’s got it all. The face, the body. Beauty and style and sexuality that doesn’t quit. She’s got it all,” he repeated, trailing his finger over the face in the picture. “Except for one thing.”
“Let me guess. I bet I know. Vision.”
Obviously pleased, he lifted the finger, shot it at Eve. “Right in one. No vision. She’s stuck in this rut with a loser, just coasting along.”
“And you could offer her so much more.”
“I did offer her more.”
“And she chose the rut.” Eve shook her head, studied the photo. “I bet she gave you the kiss-off, but in a way that left that door open, just enough to keep you dangling.”