Dinner With Howard

By Dawna Trizano and Chris Trizano

Our book is dedicated to the beautiful people of Freeport, Bahamas ...

Cliff Sandalwood, a former firefighter who left the states to escape the hurt of finding out on his wedding day that his fiancé cheated on him and went on their honeymoon alone to the Bahamas where he decided to stay and went to work as Howard Hughes right hand man and head of security for the famous Xanadu hotel. Julia St. Ives is an up and coming actress looking for her breakout role that will earn her the Oscar she dreamed of as a child. When she finds out that Mr. Hughes is producing a new movie she knew she needed to go to Xanadu. Lloyd, the bellhop, who looks out for Cliff thinks it’s time for him to find love again and when he meets Ms. St. Ives and knows she would need to get pasted Cliff to meet Mr. Hughes, Lloyd thinks this would be the perfect opportunity for Cliff to find happiness with Julia ..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawna Trizano
• Release date: Sep 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463127209

Dawna Trizano

Our novella was inspired while on holiday in Freeport, Bahamas, when we found out that the abandoned hotel that was in view from the condo we were renting was the famous Xanadu hotel that was once owned by Howard Hughes back in the 70’s and was a playground for Hollywood’s royalty, we both let our imagination run wild thinking about all the great actors & actresses that passed thru the hotel and the fun they had. It was easy to create this sweet love story since Chris & I based the main characters, Julia & Cliff personalities on ours as a couple who have been together for over 30 years. It was at that moment our novella came to life.Chris & I have been together for over 30 years and married for 25, We share a son Christopher Jr. We love staying fit, drinking a great Bordeaux & each other’s company.Chris was born and raised in Yonkers, NY and has been a Yonkers Firefighter for 19 year, he’s due to retire Nov 2020. He is also a personal trainer.I was born and raised in the Bronx, NY. I tried my hand at many occupations, I tend to get bored very easily. I acquired my beauticians license after high school, I briefly held a real estate license, I’ve worked in the travel industry and my last occupation I was a personal trainer but my greatest accomplishment was being a mom to our beautiful son ..We currently reside in Brookfield, CT until Chris retires, then our plan is to sell our home, pack up the car with essentials and travel our great country, who knows, maybe we’ll write about our adventure or a sequel to Dinner With Howard ..

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

JANUARY, 2019

She looked up at the enormous old hotel. Their condo was on the second floor, but the hotel towered over them, dominating the view from their deck.

Incredible that Xanadu was right here all the time.

He nodded, sipping his Cabernet – a J. Lohr, one of his favorites.

It’s like we were supposed to find it.

I know, she said. They had finished their dinner of salad, grouper, rice, pigeon peas, and were sitting back, relaxing, enjoying one another’s company and letting their imaginations continue running wild, as they had been, since the woman on the beach had told them that the enormous building right in front of them was the famous Xanadu they had been looking for, the hotel and playground of the famous – some would say infamous – and eccentric Howard Hughes, and his Hollywood friends – friends like the Rat Pack, Cary Grant, Lucille Ball and who knows who else?

Here we are, he said, listening to Dean Martin at dinner, and he was right there—

At the bar we were just in! She finished his sentence. Like we were with their ghosts. So intriguing … yet kind of creepy.

He shook his head, still not believing their good fortune. That glass you took— He pointed to the glass in her hand, the one they had been given permission to take. Sammy Davis Jr. had an aperitif in that glass. I’m telling you.

Imagine what went on there!

They stared at the old hotel, which rose up like a monolith, a monument to the glam era of Hollywood they both loved so much.

It’s more than a hotel, really, he mused.

She nodded. It’s … it’s an era.

And an era that’s gone now. His voice trailed off, and she again finished his sentence.

Those must have been the days.

He sipped his wine. Just imagine.

CHAPTER 2

JULIA ST. IVES, 1974

Julia took a deep breath, smoothed the front of her leopard print dress and walked through the door of the iconic hotel. Just inside was a VIP check-in, a security desk, beyond which she could see a cavernous room with an enormous fireplace and the edge of what looked like a bar. At the far side of the room was a window that appeared to look out over a pool.

Julia had decided she had waited long enough for the universe to deliver to her the starring role, the Oscar-winning role, she deserved, and which she knew to be her due. She’d just have to give the universe a little help and bring the mountain to Mohammed.

So she bought an issue of Variety … and there it was. Or rather, there he was. Howard Hughes himself, casting one of his movies at his luxury hotel in the beautiful Bahamas. Freeport.

Nice job, universe.

So she called Thelma, her travel agent, who booked her a flight and somehow finagled a room at Xanadu itself. It was finally happening. She could feel it.

She barely noticed the woman who checked her in, as her mind was racing. She was also distracted by the opulence that surrounded her. She had never seen so much wood paneling.

She tried to look casual as she strolled through the expansive room, which was ringed with half-moon shaped doorways, each bordered entirely with stone.

A gently winding wrought-iron staircase descended from someplace, maybe Mr. Hughes own suite, she imagined. She pictured Marilyn Monroe herself gliding down the staircase, then replaced Marilyn in her imagination with herself in an Oscar gown, lent – no, given to her by a world-famous designer, perhaps soon after the award ceremony – her award ceremony.

She scanned the room. Guests relaxed on padded sofas, lounged around the grand piano where a sophisticated gentleman was serenading the ladies, who vogued while the gentlemen, if that’s what they were, looked on.

The pianist’s music stirred something in her memory and she found herself staring at him while she tried to recall what he reminded her of. A beautiful young woman walked past, heading toward the piano, then glanced back at Julia.

Incredible, isn’t he? she said.

Who is he, Julia whispered.

Who is he? the woman, laughed. That’s Duke Ellington.

The bar was huge and like much of the rest of the room and its vestibule, was paneled in mahogany. The bartender, perfectly coiffed in a smart black vest, long sleeved white shirt and bowtie, caught her attention and nodded politely.

Before Julia could respond to the bartender, her attention was drawn to a nearby couple.

Hello, the gentleman, who wore a sky blue shirt said, as he and a familiar-looking woman strolled past.

Paul Newman! That was Paul Newman! His eyes were bluer than his shirt and his smile, oh, his smile! And he was, of course, with his wife, Joanne Woodward.

H-Hi, Julia managed to croak.

That’s when she shifted her focus from the décor to the guests.

The two men seated on high, thickly padded bar chairs at a small table: the tall, lanky one was Clint Eastwood; the short, dark haired man with the glasses – another famous director. Oh, what was his name … Martin Scorcese!

They must have sensed her staring, as they both turned, caught her eye, and went back to their conversation, which seemed to be dominated by Mr. Scorsese, who gestured with his hands and exclaimed, his comments just out of Julia’s hearing.

Two actresses she recognized but could not name were standing next to an voluminous arm chair, in which sat a somewhat frumpy, bald, heavy gentleman … Alfred Hitchcock, who was chatting with a quiet, dark woman with big brown eyes.

Natalie Wood.

She forced her attention back to the moment and what she was to do next, when she realized that a uniformed bellhop was standing a few feet away, patiently awaiting her attention.

Can I help with your check in, ma’am? Or take your bags?

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She was startled and still filled with the awe of seeing a half dozen A-list stars, all in the same place at the same time.

Her confusion, perhaps even annoyance, must have shown on her face, because the bellhop’s weathered features broke into a kindly smile.

Take your time, ma’am. Don’t hurry on my account. You need me, I’ll be right here for you.

Perhaps it was the bellhop’s kindness that allowed her to relax and remember her purpose enough to recognize the possible opportunity that stood before her.

Do you mind if I ask your name? she asked.

Lloyd, the bellhop politely doffed his cap. At your service.

Well, I have a question, Lloyd.

How can I help?

How would a person – an actress – meet with Mr. Hughes?

Lloyd looked down, then up again at Julia. I’m sorry, ma’am. No one sees Mr. Hughes.

She noticed that the bellhop, who looked to be in his early 70s, his sun-beaten skin nearly the same mahogany as the room around her, looked somehow a little worse for wear, though he was impeccably dressed. She realized it was his posture; he was stooped, his shoulders slightly sagged, as though life itself had been a bit too much for him.

Nn-no one? Really?

It was different, back in the day, but so was everything.

How do you mean?

Main thing different, you ask me, was the fishing, which was a gift from God, you ask me. He chuckled. But you didn’t ask me. So I’ll just leave it at that. Nowadays, Mr. Hughes doesn’t see anyone … Well, except … Cliff.

She followed Lloyd a few steps into the room, to the base of the stairway, and looked in the direction the bellhop was pointing, and had to grab ahold of the bannister to catch her breath. For an instant all she could think of was that there must have been a miscommunication. She had thought Lloyd was talking about an employee, but the person Lloyd was pointing at had to be a movie star, albeit one with whom she was not familiar. Maybe … from Italy?

Cliff. Was. Gorgeous.

Him? she nodded in the man’s direction.

You want to see Mr. Hughes, you gotta go through Cliff Sandalwood. Head of security, but also, unofficially, Howard Hughes’ personal gatekeeper.

Ahhh.

Sorry? asked Lloyd.

She hadn’t realize she had spoken.

Okay. She steadied herself. She prided herself on not being a pushover, and reminded herself that she looked good, and that Mr. Sandalwood would be like any other man. Not a problem for Julia St. Ives.

Still, he looked terrific — just your typical tall, dark, handsome, gentleman type of guy, except with personality, not a cookie cutter good looking.

And just like that, the plan took shape.

CHAPTER 3

CLIFF SANDALWOOD

Cliff and Lloyd exchanged looks. Who was this lovely young woman in the leopard print, standing next to Lloyd. She had obviously just checked in and Lloyd was about to bring her bags upstairs.

She locked eyes with him, perhaps a moment too long. He smiled back at her, keeping his smile polite.

He felt a spark – unusual, but he pushed it away and reminded himself: not only is she just another movie star who wants nothing to do with him, but even if she did want something to do with him, it wouldn’t go well. It definitely wouldn’t go well. He knew that. He’d seen these movie stars in action – so full of themselves. That’s obviously what she was, and perhaps not even a movie star, but an aspiring actress. Maybe even a gold digger.

He’d already had his chance at love, and that had turned to… well, nothing good. He would never trust another woman, and if he even thought of trusting someone, his buddy Lloyd would talk him out of anything dangerous.

Lloyd had his back. Now there was someone a guy could trust. A buddy. A best friend.

He turned away and went back to his mental to-do list.

Anyone needs me, he said to Lloyd, who was loading the woman’s bags onto a gold and red suede cart, "I’ll