Read The Man Who Died Laughing for Free Online

people. I’m not ashamed or anything, but I don’t necessarily want the whole world reading about who I fucked, either. It isn’t their business. Can you understand that?”
    “Of course. I’m not interested in exploiting you, nor is Sonny. This won’t be a sleazy showbiz book at all. You have my word.”
    “There are other people to think about. People who would be hurt.”
    “Who?”
    She didn’t answer me. She looked down at the cigarette in her fingers, which were shaking.
    “I was hoping for your help, Wanda. Your insights.”
    “It’s out of the question. Just forget it.”
    “Does Sonny know how you feel?”
    “Yes, but one thing you have to learn about Daddy is how self-centered he is. If something matters to him …”
    “It matters!’
    “Correct.”
    “I’m sorry you feel this way about it. I hope you’ll change your mind. This book is pretty important to him.”
    “Fuck him!” she snarled with sudden ferocity. “He’s a dominating, manipulative shit!”
    She jumped to her feet and stormed off to the house, high heels clacking on the pavement. Watching her go, I thought about how glad I was I hadn’t been around when the two of them weren’t getting along.
    “I think it’s wonderful that you and Arthur are doing this,” Connie Morgan told me on the living room sofa before dinner, while we sipped white wine, nibbled on raw cauliflower, and listened to the brook babble. “He has come so, so far.”
    “Yes. He seems to have made a genuine effort,” I said, smiling politely.
    Connie Morgan was the sort of woman you were polite to. She was gracious and well-bred Virginia old money. She and Sonny had met when she played the gorgeous blond homecoming queen in Big Man on Campus, Knight and Day’s second movie. In the movie, Gabe got her. In real life, Sonny did. She retired soon after they married to raise Wanda. She went back to work after the divorce. These days she was bigger than she’d ever been before. She played the proud matriarch in one of those prime-time TV soap operas. Connie was at least sixty, but she was well-kept, willowy, and she carried herself with style. She was exactly who she’d always been—the quintessential Hollywood good girl. She had on a khaki safari dress with a blue silk scarf knotted at the throat.
    “I’m anxious to talk to you about what went on,” I said.
    “I’ll make the time,” she said. “You know, the set might be the best place. I have a lot of free time there, since I’m not one of the people hopping in and out of bed. Mostly, I get everyone together for a sensible breakfast. And do a lot of knitting.”
    Sonny put an Erroll Garner album on. The Elf was his favorite musician. When I think back on our collaboration, it’s always set to Garners sweet, fluid piano.
    “Look at her, Hoagy,” he said, sitting next to me on the sofa. “She’s still the best-looking broad in town, ain’t she?”
    Connie blushed. “Now, Arthur …”
    “It’s true. The others can’t hold a candle to you. Name one. Little Michelle Pfeiffer? Little Jamie Lee Curtis? They’re Barbie dolls. This is a real woman, Hoagy. A very special woman. And I’ll tell you why. I’m a comic, see? A performer. I’m trained to hide behind my professional personality. My mask. In fact, that’s what I wanted to call the book— Behind the Mask. Publisher preferred The One. Anyway, it ain’t easy to drop that mask for nobody, let alone a broad. Connie’s the only one I could drop it for. Ever. She’s the only one who ever knew the real me, who wanted to know the real me.”
    “Arthur, you’re embarrassing me.”
    “Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s true. You stuck by me, baby. Always. I had to drive you away.”
    She swallowed and looked away. I gathered he was referring to Tracy St. Claire.
    “And someday,” he went on, “I’ll earn your trust again, Connie. That’s all Ï want.” He took a piece of cauliflower. “You and Hoagy getting acquainted? This