Chapter 13
Hey everyone, here is the next chapter. So I will make this short and sweet. I want to thank everyone for their continued support of my writing. You guys and women are fantastic and give me a lot of ideas to work off of.
To start, I have decided the next movie will, in fact, be Raging Bull. While I know it was based on an actual boxer who is not active yet, people forget that there were several great fighters of this time. Coming to mind was Jack Dempsey, James J. Braddock, Max Baer, and, of course, the great Joe Louis, who was at the height of his career. This is actually the perfect time for a great boxing movie. Raging Bull is easily that movie as it speaks to people on a level that perhaps only Rocky matches.
Moving on to answer a few reviews.
VeggieBlue, the George Washington Carver, is a great idea. Just need to think and write it.
Dao_8teh – Our Gang remake is an excellent idea. I will most likely save it for TV, however.
Groomable – I am not sure what the end story for Liz and Ruth will be. I do like the idea of them ending up together at some point, but that time isn't now.
D_eta015 – Sandlot has gone to the top of the list, and I am thinking Eight Men Out, while Shoeless Joe is still alive, would be good as well. But showing him in a more positive light, and that while he took the money only under threat. It will also be Ruth's efforts to bring to light the problems in the MLB and how they treated their players back then.
Hope_is_all_we_got - Hedy Lamarr is at the top of the list.
roronoa227 – Oh, I will, I know that bitches history. But it can't be denied, Coco Chanel is huge, so I added her to show how big Liz will become.
Poposwitch – I sent you an invite. Let me know if you got it.
Now on with the story.
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"Just like movies, I truly believe that music has the power to save people. It can evoke a range of emotions, including joy, sadness, anger, and hope. When you're having a bad day, sometimes all it takes is playing a song you love to change your entire perspective on life. That's why, whenever I enter a recording studio, I adopt the same mindset as I do when I'm making a movie. I pour my heart and soul into every one of my songs."
- A Dream Come True by Ruth "Morris Lucky" Luciano.
-1940-
-Ruth POV-
This might seem random, but one of my all-time favorite movies is "The Doors," starring Val Kilmer. For those who haven't seen it, the film portrays the rise and fall of the lead singer, Jim Morrison—a man I deeply admired, even though he hadn't been born yet. While the movie didn't do him complete justice, it didn't lessen his impact on music either.
One of the reasons I love that movie is that I've always fantasized about being in the recording booth with Meg Ryan while she was going down on me while I sang. It's one of my all-time top sexual fantasies. I mean, come on, who wouldn't find that incredibly enticing? Unfortunately, my rather prudish girlfriend disagreed and stomped on my foot for daring to suggest it, even though I'd said it in a joking tone.
Luckily, she wasn't wearing heels that day. If she had my foot, it would have hurt too much for me to be on my knees, eating her out in a broom closet at RCA headquarters while everyone was at lunch. Something that was both risky and impulsive, but so worth it, and made me feel like I was closer to my fantasy. In my opinion, it was a win! And Liz sounded absolutely incredible as she tried to stifle her moans. After all, you never know who might be passing by right now.
"Ahhh, God Ruth….Ruth, pleaseeeee stopppp already. Mmmmm, please everyone will be back soonnnnn," She moans above me, but keeps a vic-like grip on my head, not letting me pull away.
"Talk about mixed messages," I think to myself as I slip a few fingers into her tight pussy. Which makes her release my head and use those same hands to cover her mouth.
At least I am pretty sure that is what she did. It was kind of all to tell with her thighs clinching my head in a vice-like grip and my nose buried in her neatly trimmed bush.
It takes some effort, but I am able to open her legs enough to remove my head and look up with a smirk on my lips. Face covered in her sexual fluids, I say, "Only after you cum for me one more time, babe."
I then drive in and find her clit, sucking on it while at the same time licking it. Driving her to scream into her hands even louder. The excitement of being in a semi-public space and the risk of getting caught, driving her to new heights as her legs clamp down on my head again as she comes undone for the 3rd time today. At least I think it's the 3rd time. Hard to tell among all her screaming and moaning. It kind of all started to bleed together at some point.
After she begins to come down from her climax, I stand up and pull her panties back into place. They are blue lace cheeks that I made myself, of course. Unfortunately, you can't find anything like them these days. Don't get me wrong; I appreciate some of the lingerie available now, particularly the slips I enjoy, but most of it feels too boring or uncomfortable for my taste. My woman deserves better, so I create custom pieces for her, even if she often finds what I make a bit embarrassing to wear.
Once I have pulled them snugly over her hips and behind, I lean in and kiss her while still glistening with her essence—something she typically wouldn't allow. However, she has been more willing to give in to me lately. As our tongues intertwine in a passionate dance of love and lust, I take a moment to wonder why that is.
The answer was simple, really. My conservative girlfriend was still feeling guilty about the fight we had nearly a month ago and the slap she had given me, if you can call it that. The whole incident had shaken her more than she let on, and it was the only reason I was able to go down on her in a broom closet of all places. I won't call her more submissive, though, because while I was able to convince her to try more daring and kinky things in private, there were limits. What we had just done was a clear example of where that limit lay, and my foot, which still hurt by the way, was a warning sign. If I pushed too hard, I might not wake up one night after falling asleep. That said, I was really enjoying taking advantage of the situation while I could. I did not doubt that sooner or later, Liz would return to being firm about what she allowed me to do with her.
Breaking the kiss, Liz says, "You're unbelievable. You're going to get us caught."
I smirk as I feel her up and reply, "Please, if anything, all your moaning is what's going to get us caught."
"And whose fault is it that I keep moaning so loudly?" she asks, her voice heated but lacking any real anger.
As I move one hand back down while she still isn't wearing her skirt, I slide my fingers under her panties and tease, "I guess mine, but can I really be blamed for not being able to keep my hands to myself?"
Liz quivers, her knees weakening once more. Her girlfriend's touch feels incredible, but Liz has enough willpower to grab my hand and say, "Oh no… no. Everyone will be back from lunch soon."
I pout and reply, "Babe, please, just five more minutes. I promise it will feel so good."
My words tempt her; I can see it in her expression. Yet, she pushes my hand away and insists, "Later. Back at the hotel, but not now."
Hearing the firmness in her voice, I reluctantly back off, but not before stealing one last kiss and helping her with her skirt. An excuse we both knew for me to run my hands up her body one last time, but Liz doesn't mind so long as I don't try to keep going.
After that, we quickly fix our outfits before I open the door to the broom closet and look around. Making sure no one was around to see us leave. God, I was happy that security cameras didn't exist just yet. When I see no one, we leave the broom closet and head towards the restrooms so we can touch up our makeup and, most importantly, disguise the lingering scent of sex from our bodies. Once we're in the restroom, I shift my thoughts to other matters. Things that really weren't that important to me right now, with me all hot and ready, but things I had to think of nonetheless.
I am currently at RCM headquarters in New York, approaching the final day of a recording session that has spanned roughly 9 days. Which, honestly, was a bit long for just two songs, but the journey has been anything but straightforward, especially with "Crying in the Rain," which was proving difficult to record for several reasons.
Especially compared to "Kiss from a Rose," which was relatively smooth sailing for me. Seeing as I approached it with the understanding that I could never truly replicate the original version. The technology available to me just wasn't capable of capturing the original, so I focused on recording it acoustically with a bit of my own twist to make it mine.
In contrast, "Crying in the Rain" posed a greater challenge. While I had performed it live at the Academy Awards, where the response was positive, I felt that I could have done much better. My live rendition was satisfactory, but in the studio, things were not going as well.
The delays in completing the song were primarily due to the rain effects we were incorporating. It proved far harder than I had thought, but we got through it in time, and finally, I was laying down the last track for the lyrics today. After that, we would be finished, much to the satisfaction of everyone involved in the recording, especially the RCA executives, who had been concerned about my unconventional approach. I don't blame them for their concerns; after all, it took just two days for "Kiss from a Rose," but seven days for "Crying in the Rain." Combine that with the 12-hour days I was putting into it, and you can understand why everyone was happy it was over. Poor guys; they had no idea that it would have been so much worse if I had better mixing options. After all, the sound boards of today were nowhere near what they would be in 10 to 20 years, let alone at the end of the century.
All of this, however, was just a distraction for me and meant little beyond making a little extra money. My main reason for being in New York lay in Liz's modding work. Once we finished here, we would head over to the studio for Harper's Bazaar. Today, she would be wearing outfits designed by Bonnie Cashin, as well as the dress that everyone loved from the Academy Awards.
I was mainly there because I loved watching my girl all dressed up. I could spend the entire day admiring her if I had the chance. Additionally, I wanted to spread the message that Liz was my friend and deserved to be treated with respect. I was all too familiar with how models were treated, not just in the 21st century, but especially in the 1940s. That was where I came in, or rather, where Sonny came in. Say what you will about the mob, but when they wanted to make a point, they certainly knew how to do it. Everyone now knew Liz was an asset to Lucky Pictures and, by extension, to some very powerful people. If she wasn't treated properly, you could expect a visit from some not-so-friendly individuals.
Once we returned to the recording studio, Liz picked up a paper and said, "Did you see this?"
Noticing the smug smile on her face, I took the paper and smiled back.
"Well, isn't that something?" I said as I began to read.
"Boom Town" had just been released a week ago and was currently number one at the box office. I wasn't particularly surprised, as it was already an okayish movie. But after Liz's little breakdown, and I held her for a night, she returned to the set of "Boom Town" and performed wonderfully. In fact, she did even better than wonderful; she was great. So great, in fact, that I had to go back and reshoot some scenes because her performance was just that good. This annoyed a few people, but it really excited Humphrey, who agreed that since Liz was in such good form, we should go back and redo, if not all, then as many of the key scenes as we could.
After that, it was a straightforward path to completion, followed by editing and the film score. Editing proved fairly simple, unlike with "Shane," and I finished it in just a few weeks. The film score was even easier. All I had to do was hire Franz Waxman to compose the music, and he provided me with the same lackluster score as the original movie. Then, on May 20, 1940, we released the film.
The only hiccup was that the film didn't receive rave reviews from critics. While I received some praise, it was generally lackluster. Mostly, I faced criticism and growing doubts about my abilities.
In an article from John Mosher of *The New Yorker*, he described *Boom Town* as a "feeble story filled with Western bars, showgirls, bar fights, and little plot," ultimately calling it an uninteresting tale about oil gushers that was hard to watch and hard to believe came from the same creator as *Shane*.
It felt like a blatant accusation, poorly disguised as an actual review. Mosher wasn't the first to try to bring me down, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. Yet, despite his attempts, it didn't stop people from going to see *Boom Town*. In fact, I think he may have actually helped me more than he realized.
Putting the paper down, I looked at my girlfriend and said, "So, tell me, babe, how does it feel to be a star?"
Smiling back, Liz responded, "Honestly, pretty good. So what's next?"
"Next, we wait for the box office numbers to come in. After that, we'll look towards the next film," I answered her.
"Do you have any idea what that will be?" Liz asked.
"I have a few ideas," I said with a smile as we heard everyone coming back from lunch.
-Humphrey POV-
"Well, damn. She did it again," I thought to myself as I looked at the box office numbers for *Boom Town* one more time before heading to Ruth's office.
Honestly, I wasn't sure if she could pull it off. I had a feeling she could the moment we began filming. The girl—no, the young woman—knew exactly what she was doing. Nothing was left to chance, yet there was enough flexibility for the actors to explore their characters creatively. It was a relaxing experience, yet still professional.
Overall, I enjoyed the filming experience. However, there were moments when I lost my temper with some of the other actors. Nothing too serious, but I did clash with Alan more than once. He was overly concerned about how fans would receive the film, and it affected his performance. I understood why Ruth was drawn to him, but if he didn't get his head straight, he would quickly burn himself out. Then, there was the unfortunate incident with Miss Scott.
I don't want to view myself as a bully or a misogynistic jerk, but I remember the day she came to work, and her performance was extremely poor. I was on the verge of walking off the set after I lost my temper and yelled at her for acting foolishly. I shouldn't have said that or raised my voice, but it didn't make sense to me why she was performing so poorly that day. The day before, she had done well for a newcomer to Hollywood, but after a good night's sleep, I finally came to understand.
The girl had the jitters, likely because she had suddenly become the talk of the town. Liz went from being a nobody to a Hollywood starlet overnight, and she probably didn't know how to handle it. I had seen this phenomenon before; while some women managed it well, others struggled significantly.
The next day, I wanted to apologize to her, but when she showed up, she was all business and absolutely nailing her scenes. In fact, she was doing so well that Ruth decided to halt the filming of any new scenes, opting instead to focus on redoing scenes that didn't require us to travel to a location again.
It was worth the effort, as the numbers showed. "Boom Town" had just completed its second four-week run, grossing 7.2 million dollars—nearly a million more than "Shane." Granted, much of that success was due to the momentum building for Ruth's second movie. Still, it was another hit, which is why I was currently at the office.
I walked up to the door and knocked, hearing Ruth's voice call out, "Come in."
When I opened the door, I was caught off guard when I saw Ruth, and I quickly turned to face away from her.
"I'm so sorry, Ruth. I didn't know you were busy. I'll come back later," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush.
I heard a soft giggle from behind me as Ruth said, "Humphrey, please don't be a prude. It's fine. It's not like I'm naked."
"You might as well be," I thought to myself before slowly turning around to take in what Ruth was doing and wearing.
Ruth was dressed in a tank top that hugged her ample curves and a pair of pants that were far too tight, accentuating her figure like a second skin. Made from nylon, they left little to the imagination. Barefoot, she held a yoga pose, and the sweat glistening on her skin somehow enhanced her beauty.
"Okay, maybe it's not so bad," I thought, closing my eyes and then opening them again to look at her. "Nope, it's bad." I decided face the other way again.
Hearing a sigh, Ruth said, "Humphrey, sit down."
It didn't sound like an order; she wasn't commanding me, but somehow, I found myself sitting down before I could stop and think about it.
As I sat there, I began to calm down, not because I had gotten over her outfit, but because I became entranced by what I was watching. I had no idea what she was doing or why, but slowly, bit by bit, she began to change poses. First, she stood one way, then another, until eventually she was on the ground, her head thrown back, her back arched, and her stomach facing up.
"What are you doing?" I asked her, unable to look away.
"Hmmmm," she inhaled deeply before exhaling, "Oh, this. This is called Kapotasana."
"Kapota-what?" I replied, my voice tinged with confusion.
This earned me a small laugh, and Ruth explained, "Kapotasana; it's a pose from something called yoga. It's very healthy for you and helps keep me in shape."
"I've never heard of it," I admitted.
"That's not surprising. It comes from India, and I only know about it because I found it in a book years ago and decided to try it because it looked fun," Ruth says as she changes her pose again. "This one is called Hanumanasana."
"Looks painful," I reply.
"Hmm, it's more challenging than anything, but yes, it was painful when I first started. Want to give it a try?" she asks.
"No, I'm good, thank you," I say with a smile.
"Suit yourself. So, you wanted to talk?" she inquires.
"Oh no, I'm fine. I can wait until you're done," I respond.
"Very well, but just so you know, I still have 30 minutes left," Ruth says.
"30 minutes? How long have you been doing this?" I ask, surprised.
"About an hour," Ruth answers, much to my amazement.
Though perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this was Ruth I was talking to, and I quickly discovered that she never does anything halfway.
"Well, shit. Fine, I wanted to talk to you about signing on with Lucky Pictures," I said, not willing to wait that long.
"Making the first move. That is bold of you. You do realize that puts you at a disadvantage, right?" Ruth replied.
"Only if I didn't know you wanted me to," I countered.
Ruth looked over at me with a smirk and said, "If that's what you believe, then why didn't you just go to Raimondo about signing with us?"
It was my turn to smirk and give her a knowing look, and I said, "Because, while you do a wonderful job of hiding it, Ruth, anyone who has worked with you can tell who the real decision-maker is here."
This earned me a light laugh from her. Ruth said, "You are one smart man, you know that, Mr. Bogart."
"And you're quite the smart cookie, Miss Luciano," I said as I watched her relax from her pose, get up, and take a seat at her desk.
"Let's get down to brass tacks then. What do you want?" she asked, ready to discuss business.
"$100,000 and 4 percent of the box office for the next 5 years," I replied.
"You really want that percentage deal, don't you?" Ruth said with a smile, clearly aware of Humphrey's value—perhaps even better than he did. 100 thousand dollars was a steal, but 4 percent of the box office was significant. Alan, with just a 1 percent cut, had earned $72,000 on top of his $25,000 yearly salary, bringing his total to over $100,000 so far for the year. If Humphrey had 4 percent, at the time of the final box office earnings from "Boom Town," he would have made $288,000.
"It's a good deal. Right now, Warner Bros. is offering me much more," I told her.
"Oh, I have no doubt about that, but they aren't offering you a percentage, which I assume you've already calculated. So, it's likely worth more than their flat rate offer," Ruth responded.
I didn't answer and showed nothing on my face, but inside, I wasn't surprised she had guessed as much. Warner Bros. was, in fact, offering me $200,000 per film. That was a good deal, if there ever was one. However, a 4 percent share would earn me more than that if she could deliver me another hit like Boom Town. The $100,000 was to ensure I made something just in case she couldn't.
After giving it some thought, Ruth said, "I will give you 30 and 3."
It was a lowball offer; she knew it, and I knew it too, but that was the strategy. I would start high, she would go low, and we'd try to meet somewhere in the middle—or decide to walk away. The only question was whether I wanted to walk away. Something inside me warned that if I did, I would regret it.
So I responded, "75 and 5."
Ruth countered quickly, "40 and 4."
I looked her in the eyes, and there was no sign of backing down. After some thought, I replied, "60 and 7."
Leaning back in her chair, Ruth rested her face on her fist and said, "45 and 5."
I take a deep breath, let it out, and think it over. Did I risk asking for 50 or not? From my experience working with Ruth, I knew she wasn't the type to back down and might even be willing to walk away, even though I knew she wanted to sign me. After all, we were a lot alike. Both of us were professionals and perfectionists, and we needed everything to be just right. So, I felt like I was negotiating with myself, trying to anticipate how I would react next.
After thinking it over for a little longer, I finally say, "45 and 6 final official."
Ruth doesn't reply immediately. She's likely doing the same thing I am: contemplating how she wants to proceed. Eventually, she stands up, walks around the desk, and extends her hand. "Deal," she says.
I stand up and shake her hand with a smile, but she can't resist getting in one last jab. "I would have paid 50."
"I would have taken 40," I retort confidently, unwilling to back down.
Then we both laugh, and I have a strange feeling that this will mark the beginning of a great business relationship.