Evie was sitting on a bench near the stone arch, thankful for the clear sky and her quiet thoughts, when her interest was drawn by a man walking by. He wore a crisply tailored suit and dark gray hat, and the way he moved across the square with purpose was almost feline – graceful, and dangerous somehow. The man was familiar, and something stirred in Evie as she watched him.
He reminded her of Jack Taylor. But if there was one place she would never run into Jack, it was at school.
Without thinking, she rose and found herself following him, walking slightly behind at a distance. As he reached the other edge of the square, he paused to cross the street. Evie lingered several feet behind him, staring down into the cover of the book she clutched in her arms and watching him through her peripheral vision.
The man stepped into the street, but then hesitated and turned around. In two quick steps he was standing directly in front of Evie, the icy blue eyes narrow as they regarded her.
A jolt ran through Evie. It was Jack. But how could it be? What would he be doing here?
‘Hello, Miss McKenzie.’ That voice, smooth and low.
Evie felt her stomach clench and a flush creep up her neck. ‘Jack! What are you doing here?’
Jack’s lip curled on one side, amusement lightening his features. ‘You were aware that we lived in the same city, were you not? We did meet here in New York. I suppose the odds were good that we might meet again.’
‘But, I …’ Evie found herself unable to speak, not a familiar situation for her. Seeing Jack brought back every encounter she’d had with him in a rush. She felt his hands on her body, even as he stood still before her on the corner. She felt his tongue teasing her neck and his hot breath on her ear. She could feel the way her body responded to him, to that low growling voice, to those penetrating eyes. She couldn’t help glancing at the long elegant fingers that had made her feel things she didn’t know she was even capable of. ‘I just didn’t expect to see you here at school.’
‘I do have to leave the club sometimes, darling.’ Jack spoke to her as if he saw her every day. None of her own surprise seemed to trouble him or ruffle that smooth exterior. Nothing in his manner now gave away the fact that just six months ago he had been at her door, asking her – and even her father – for permission to court her properly. And been turned down.
‘Of course,’ she said, feeling a crazy smile climb across her face. She tried to stop her reaction to him, the heat that had moved through her limbs, the jangling nerves warring in her stomach. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Jack,’ she tried. Immediately the words seemed to fall flat. It was something far more than nice to see him, she realized. She felt something around him, ignited by his very existence in the space near her, something she had never felt with another person. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, she wanted him to claim her, to hold her and take her. The realization shocked her, and she felt wild, on the verge of losing control of herself.
Jack nodded curtly and turned, about to move away.
Evie couldn’t just let him go. ‘And Maison?’ she asked. ‘How are things going?’ Jack’s club was where she’d first met him, and where she’d seen him after that. At least until she’d realized that Roger meant something to her and that they might have a future together.
‘The club is doing well. Thank you for your concern.’ Jack’s voice was cold and polite, almost a slap in the face considering the emotions that had erupted in Evie at seeing him.
Disappointment flooded her as he turned to leave again. Of course, she thought. What could she really expect? She had rebuffed him, possibly humiliated him. A man like Jack Taylor wouldn’t take rejection well. She stood, staring after him, as he moved away from her, the feline grace that carried him forward leading her to think of other ways that his body moved.
Embarrassed by her inability to control her own mind, Evie turned away. She was upset. She felt almost crazed, like she should run after him, but she knew that was not an option. She had no real reason to detain him. And she was engaged to Roger!
Why then, did Jack’s sculpted lips and icy blue eyes seem to push every other thought from her mind?
Evie sat back down until it was time for her class. And then she walked slowly to the lecture hall, a cloud of confusion hanging over her.
Chapter Six
Tug
‘Now is the time to make some changes,’ Tug told Roger as they both stood at the side of the bar. She hadn’t mentioned his engagement, and neither had he. She had nursed her disappointment the night Evie had shown her the ring, and had since told herself that she was over it. Over her silly crush on him. From now on, it would be business only – not that it had ever been anything more. At least not for Roger. ‘With the convention coming to town, there’s gonna be a great chance to build the business, Roger. You’re a businessman, don’t you wanna see this place grow?’
‘There’s a danger in growth in this industry, Tug.’ Roger’s dark eyes regarded her with a twinkle of amusement, and Tug got the feeling that he merely tolerated her in his business, without taking her ideas seriously. ‘Chuck,’ Roger said, signaling the jovial blond man to the end of the bar. Chuck was Roger’s partner in the business, but he preferred staying behind the bar to circulating among the crowd. Roger was the face of the bar, and Chuck had been more of the behind-the-scenes man. When Tug had come in, she’d found a fit naturally between the two responsibilities. And with Roger away at school four days out of the week, she often felt she was running the place on her own.
‘Hmmm?’ Chuck leaned across the bar on his elbows, a blond eyebrow raised.
‘Tug here wants to make some big changes. I wondered what you think.’
‘Texas Guinan has dancers,’ Tug began. ‘There’s a real show going on, bringing ‘em in. And they’re mixing ritzy cocktails with fancy names.’
Chuck laughed. ‘We don’t need mixers, Tug. This isn’t hooch we’re pouring back here.’
‘I know that.’ Tug had been told a hundred times about their connection with the Yale Club, about the quality of the alcohol they served and about how no other place in the city could compete. ‘But you’re bringing in your Yalie friends when there’s a whole city of people who’d be in here in a heartbeat if you just gave ‘em what they wanted.’
‘Maybe we want to control the type of fella we get in here,’ Chuck said.
Roger nodded.
‘But then again, maybe Tug has a point.’ Chuck grinned, his white-blond hair reflecting the dim lights above the bar. ‘I, for one, wouldn’t mind some dancing girls in here.’
Roger crossed his arms and sighed heavily. ‘It makes no sense to waste the good brown plaid on a bunch of dewdroppers and deadbeats.’
‘That’s what I’ve been saying,’ Tug said. She put a hand on Roger’s arm, trying to ignore the chill that ran through her at the sheer proximity of him. ‘We get another connection, bring in some giggle water that we can mix, and make up some fancy cocktails. Stretch it out by adding fruit juice. That’s what people want, anyway. Save the good stuff for those who know the difference!’
Roger stared at Tug for a long moment, and she met his gaze, working hard to keep herself from tumbling into the delicious brown depths of his moody eyes. ‘All right, Tug,’ Roger said.
Chuck grinned. ‘This’ll be fun,’ he laughed, returning to the customers at the bar.
‘I’ll work on the connections. You take care of the show.’
‘Really, Roger?’ Tug launched herself at Roger, forgetting for a moment that he was Evie’s fiancé. She pressed herself into his sturdy warmth, wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing.
His arms went around her and he laughed, too, holding her maybe a beat longer than was necessary and then releasing her.
Tug stepped away, smoothing her skirt and putting a hand to her hair, embarrassed suddenly. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face, though she wasn’t sure if she was more pleased at getting her way or at having been in Roger’s arms,
even for a second.
*****
Tug spent the next couple weeks working feverishly to implement her new vision for Evie’s. She brought her father and one of his friends to build a small stage at one end of the long space, wide enough for the band to be elevated behind the dancers. Her father was easy enough to pay – she just offered him a bottle from the supply room.
Tug didn’t think finding girls to make up the show would be especially difficult, either. After all, there were plenty of young girls around, looking to break into show business. 1924, and the years immediately preceding it, had been a revolution of sorts for women, after all. It had been women who had succeeded in pressing the temperance movement forward and ultimately persuading the bulk of Americans that Prohibition would build a stronger country. And on the heels of that political success came the women’s suffrage movement. This was a time when women were demonstrating what they were capable of, and many of them were finding their own versions of power and independence. They were leaving home and pursuing their desires, even without the protection of a man at their side.
‘I think I need twelve girls,’ Tug told Chuck and Roger when she’d made a plan for the showgirls. ‘Now I just need to get them hired, get some costumes, and figure out what exactly they’re going to be doing up there.’ She nodded at the newly completed stage, which was really just a platform up front.
‘So when are these girls coming in?’ Chuck asked, a mischievous sparkle lighting his face.
‘Give me a week or two. The convention isn’t until June, anyway. That gives us two months to get them ready to go. Have you Yalies found us a new connection yet? I’ve got a million ideas for fancy drinks, but I need to experiment.’
Roger looked grim. ‘I’m still not sold on that part, Tug. We’ve got a solid connection at the club. This is a refined establishment, where people know they can get the good stuff.’
‘We’re not gonna change that,’ Tug said, leaning across the bar to make her point. ‘We’re gonna build on that. Look around, Rog.’
Roger did as he was told, and Chuck followed suit.
‘You got a couple off duties over there,’ Tug pointed to the front table where two red-faced Irishmen were laughing quietly together. ‘You got your Ivy pals out here.’ Several small groups of well-dressed young men who could have been Roger’s fraternity brothers clustered around the end of the bar. ‘You’re missing the flappers, boys. And when you get the girls in here, these boys start emptying their wallets. You want a place that the girls ask to come, a place where there’s something for everyone.’ She eyed Roger, ignoring the flush that crept up her neck when he watched her intently as he was doing now. ‘You might as well just call this place Yale Club south.’
‘She’s got a point,’ Chuck said, a low laugh following it as he shook his head. He smiled at Tug, admiration for her clear in the bright blue eyes.
Tug mimicked a curtsy for him and turned back to Roger. ‘Whaddya think?’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’ll work on it.’
Tug ducked behind the bar and grabbed her coat and purse. ‘Now, if one of you fine gentlemen would escort me, I need to visit the competition.’
‘What?’ Chuck laughed.
‘I need to talk to Ms Guinan again,’ she said. ‘And I can’t exactly wander over to her place alone. Who’s coming?’ She looked back and forth between the two men, silently praying that Roger would volunteer.
‘Sold,’ Chuck said, picking his hat up from the back counter. ‘You’ll be okay, Rog?’
Roger looked skeptical but said, ‘Sure.’
Tug felt disappointment wash over her, but quickly pushed it away. She pasted a big smile on her face and turned to her tall blond escort. ‘Let’s get a wiggle on, then!’
Together, Tug and Chuck stepped out into the glow of street lamps lining the midtown street. Winter was finally losing its grip on the city and a slight breeze carried a kiss of warmth with it as it wrapped around the couple walking towards Park Avenue.
*****
‘So you and Roger met at school, huh?’ Tug asked as Chuck walked beside her.
‘We’ve known each other since we were kids,’ Chuck told her. His voice was deep and warm, and he had a way of sounding like he was always on the brink of laughter.
Tug turned her head to look at him. Chuck was tall and lanky. He didn’t have the broad build that Roger did, but his easy way of being in the world made him nice to be near. He always made Tug feel reassured, as if whatever problems were afoot would be easily solved.
‘We grew up together.’ Chuck had taken Tug’s arm as they’d left the club, and he guided her as they walked. ‘Roger’s father and mine have both been part of the club forever, and our mothers host one another regularly. We knew we’d be at Yale together from the time we were in short pants.’
Tug laughed at the idea of a tiny tow-headed Chuck and toddling Roger tumbling around together as kids. ‘Roger’s a good guy,’ she said, and then wanted to suck the words back in. Something in her wanted any excuse to say his name, to feel closer to him, even if it was just by talking about him.
Chuck looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, ‘He is. He always has been. If Roger has a fault, it’s only that he sees everything in shades of black and white.’ He tightened his grip on Tug’s arm for a moment. ‘Well, you know that! You’ve seen how hard it is to get him to think about making changes to the club. He’s a creature of habit.’
Tug nodded. That made sense. ‘Look at you, Mr Insightful,’ she laughed. ‘Hey, what’s your full name, Chuck?’
‘You first. I know your mother didn’t name you “Tug.”’
A wry smile made Tug’s lips thin. She wasn’t a fan of her mother at this point, since the woman had changed the course of Tug’s life by simply disappearing from it at the stage where she needed her most. ‘Maybe she did,’ she said.
‘Come on,’ Chuck prodded.
‘It’s Elizabeth Claire.’
‘That’s lovely.’ They walked in silence for a moment, and he added, ‘It fits.’
Tug smiled. ‘Maybe it did, once. Your turn.’
‘Well it isn’t too hard to decipher,’ he said. ‘My name is Charles.’
‘But not just Charles,’ Tug prodded. No one from Chuck’s background had just one name.
‘Charles Merriweather Tate the fourth,’ Chuck confirmed.
‘My, my!’ Tug laughed.
‘Please call me Chuck,’ he said, his cheeks coloring.
‘Well I’m not going to call you “Merriweather.”’
They chatted and strolled, finally hiring a cab to deliver them to the sidewalk outside the hidden entrance to the club where Tug knew she could get the answers she needed.
Chuck let out a low whistle as they elbowed their way up to the bar between the other patrons. The club was raucous, with customers standing in every free inch of floor space, holding drinks, toasting, and laughing. There was a gorgeous black woman belting out a song in a low sultry voice, and the band was behind her as dancers filled the open space in front of her. Drinks slid back and forth across the smooth bar top, keeping the men behind it hopping around in an effort to keep up.
Tug handed Chuck the printed drink menu, which offered things like the Bee’s Knees, the Southside, and the Highball.
‘If you’re printing the drinks right here, how’s it gonna work when the Prohibition officers raid you?’ Chuck asked, his eyebrows high in confusion.
‘Mister,’ interrupted a tall bottle blonde wearing a necklace made of keys draped around her neck, ‘all we sell here is mixers. If these fine people bring in their own alcohol, I can’t exactly stop them, now can I?’ She smiled and then noticed Tug. ‘Haven’t we met before? Elizabeth, right?’
Tug nodded eagerly. ‘Ms Guinan, this is Chuck.’
‘He sure is,’ Guinan gave Chuck an appreciative look, running a hand down the length of his tie. ‘A pleasure,’ she drawled.
‘I have a question for y
ou, Ms Guinan, if you have a minute.’ Tug sounded uncertain and wanted to kick herself. Here was her idol before her, and she sounded like a child.
Guinan didn’t budge, so Tug continued.
‘I just wondered, who teaches your fan dancers their numbers?’
The girls up front all lifted huge fans into the air, as if on cue.
‘Well, nobody, darlin’. They teach themselves!’ Guinan laughed. ‘When you hire a dancer, you hope they know how to dance! I just make a few suggestions and they do the rest.’
The simple nature of Guinan’s answer left Tug feeling even less confident.
‘Are you kids stealing my tricks?’ Guinan raised an eyebrow.
‘Just getting some ideas,’ Chuck jumped in. ‘I have a quiet club across town. Tug here thinks we need to shake things up a bit, and she’s always talking about how you’ve done it right.’
‘That’s lovely, darling,’ Guinan said. ‘But I do very little. I open my doors and welcome people in. They bring the spirit and the hooch. I just give them a place to enjoy it!’ She smiled a glittering smile, revealing perfect teeth. Guinan had been a showgirl herself, and Tug knew that she had appeared in lots of films. As Guinan moved off through the crowd, Tug realized that her background in theater was the reason she was so successful. She used her club like a stage, offering herself, the girls, and the music like acts in a show.
‘She’s incredible,’ Chuck said, his eyes watching the proprietress’s back move away.
‘She is,’ Tug nodded. She had learned a few things tonight. The club wasn’t the only thing that needed to change.
As Chuck helped Tug back out the door an hour later, she had big plans in mind.
‘Did you get what you needed?’ Chuck asked. He leaned forward to light the cigarette that Tug had pulled from her purse.
The Glittering Life of Evie Mckenzie Page 4