There was a jeweler’s box in his hand. As he slowly opened it, her heart rose into her throat.
The box held a set of pearls. Real ones. “Oh, Jack. They are beautiful.”
He set the box on the vanity table. “Turn around, I’ll put them on you.”
She turned, faced the mirror and watched his reflection as he lifted the pearls over her head. After he set the clasp, his hands slid around her waist and he kissed the side of her neck.
Leaning back against him, she studied their reflection in the mirror. “I feel like Cinderella.”
His arms tightened around her. “Then I’ll make sure we are home by midnight.”
He would know the entire Cinderella story. The only thing that might make everything more perfect, was if she could tell him how much she cared for him. That she loved him. But she couldn’t, because to declare her love, would be the same as declaring herself to him and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t tell him she loved him and then leave.
“Knock, knock, anyone home?”
Jack released her and took ahold of her hand. “I hope you’re ready for this, Julia.”
“For what?” Julia asked from the other room. “Taking care of Grace? The girls are all jealous you asked me and not one of them.”
“No,” Jack said as they stepped out of the bedroom. “For this.”
Helen’s cheeks burned as he released her hand and pointed at her as if presenting her to Julia.
“Oh, Helen.” Julia patted her chest and then twirled a finger in the air. “Turn around.”
As she had done for Jack, Helen slowly spun around.
“Wow, Jack, you look swanky, but no one is even going to notice you with this doll at your side.” Sighing, Julia added, “You look amazing, Helen.”
Helen’s cheeks blazed. “It’s the dress,” she attempted to justify. “And the pearls, and the gloves and the head—”
“No, it’s not.”
Jack and Julia had spoken at the same time, and they both laughed, nodding at each other.
Getting down to business, Helen ignored them both. “There are bottles in the refrigerator, and I left a pan of water on the stove to warm them. Grace is asleep right now, but should be waking in half an hour or so. There are diapers and a sleeping gown on the dresser next to the crib, and—”
“I’ll figure it all out,” Julia said. “Don’t worry. You two just go. Go have the night of your lives.” Julia waved a hand at both of them. “I wish I had a camera.”
“There will be plenty of those at the premiere,” Jack said.
Helen pressed a hand against her stomach, once again telling herself she could not be sick. Would not. “There will be?”
“Yes. Newspaper reporters will be lining the sidewalk. They always are.”
“Newspaper reporters?”
Jack nodded.
Even his happiness couldn’t stop the eruption of her stomach. “Excuse me,” she said, dashing into the bathroom.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack had been right. The flashes of miniature light bulbs nearly blinded her as they made their way into the building with huge lit-up letters across the very top that spelled STATE. There were just as many people inside with cameras. The building was huge, with marble walls and dark red velvet curtains stitched with gold thread, and packed full of people. Marble wall to marble wall.
Every person in attendance wanted to talk to Jack, hailed from left and right, front and back. Like he had at all the other parties they’d attended, he held her close to his side. That made her forget everything else.
She was very proud of him. He deserved all of this and more. He hadn’t taken a day off, not even a Sunday since she’d met him.
Servers brought around trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. There were so many people gathered around them, neither she nor Jack had a chance to sample either, not until they were escorted up a flight of steps and into an elaborately decorated balcony suite. The soft cushions were upholstered with velvet, so were the armrests. She and Jack were given the center front seats, flanked by some of the actors and crew members. Others filled in the rows behind them. Once everyone was seated, waiters in red-and-gold uniforms served them more champagne and set platters of delicious bites of food on small tables near the walls that were covered with heavy red drapes.
“Here’s to Jack,” Malcolm Boyd said, standing up and lifting his glass of champagne in the air.
“Here, here!” everyone shouted.
Jack touched his glass to hers before he clinked it against other people’s. Helen was thirsty, and drank the entire glass. It was tasty, and sweet, but also sent bubbles up her nose, almost making her sneeze.
“Do you want more?” Jack asked.
“No, I’m fine.” She grabbed his arm then, because a pipe organ started playing. “I’m so excited to see the movie,” she whispered as a hush fell over the entire crowd.
“Thank you for being here.”
He made her feel so special, it was indescribable. “I still feel like Cinderella.”
“Cinderella was never as beautiful as you,” he whispered in her ear.
“There’s not an empty seat to be found,” Newton, sitting on her other side, whispered at the same time.
Helen peered over the rail, at the rows and rows of seats beneath them. There truly wasn’t an empty seat. “How many seats are there?”
“Nine hundred,” Jack whispered as the lights slowly faded.
Darkness shrouded the room. Helen wrapped her arm around Jack’s and leaned her head against his shoulder. When the film started to roll, and people saw how large the screen was, there were oohs and aahs, but silenced ensued as the pipe organ changed tempo and the words Star’s Studio presents Home Bound filled the screen.
Helen was as glued to her seat now as she had been that first day at the studio, taking in every scene. Laughter filled the air at times, gasps at others.
By the time the snow scene rolled on the screen, she had both hands wrapped around Jack’s arms, rooting for the men to find their way home more than before, having now seen all they’d gone through on their journey. She was holding her breath when the final scene appeared, and shed a tear when it ended. Both of the men’s families were at the house. The final scene, before the screen went black, was of the men and their families, singing carols around a Christmas tree.
The applause that broke out was deafening.
The lights were turned on. Everyone below them was standing, looking up at the balcony and clapping.
Jack stood and gestured for everyone else to join him, including her. She couldn’t hear what he said due to the clapping, but bowed when he tugged on her arm.
“Bravo! Bravo!” people shouted over and over again. “Bravo!”
When they descended the stairway a short time later, even more people crowded around them than before the showing. They congratulated Jack over and over, saying it was the best movie they’d ever seen. She agreed wholeheartedly.
Helen was surprised when Shirley made her way through the crowd, wearing a beautiful dark blue gown and looking absolutely gorgeous.
“That was amazing!” Shirley said hugging her. “I laughed and I cried. Then laughed and cried again.”
“Me, too,” Helen admitted.
“How did you do that snow scene, Jack? That was remarkable.”
As Jack explained the feathers and fans, Helen realized he was talking to his lawyer, Walter Russell, who had ahold of Shirley’s hand. She’d known the other woman only a short time, but Helen admired Shirley. The courage she displayed by coming to California for no other reason than because she wanted to come here, and wished she could be more like that. Courageous.
Helen was about to ask if Shirley had gotten a secretary job with the lawyer after all, but the two were pushed aside by others, including Dr. Baine.
She completely lost sight of Shirley in the crowd as a steady stream of people continued to make their way up to them, congratulating Jack.
There was still a large number of people, snapping pictures and asking for autographs when Jack took ahold of her hand. “Come on, let’s make a break for it.”
“Where to?” The place was still crowded.
“We have a dinner party, now.”
He led her down a long corridor, stopping to shake hands and talk to people along the way, and then into a huge ballroom that was as gorgeous as the rest of the building and set up with more tables and chairs than she could count. A huge bouquet of flowers was in the center of every table, a man played music at a grand piano and people cheered as she and Jack entered the room.
She caught sight of Shirley again, but never got a chance to talk to her because she and Jack were seated at a different table. They were served lobster and steak as well as a variety of other foods and champagne. Every time she set her glass down, someone refilled it.
By the time they took their leave, she was a bit dizzy, wobbly on her feet and overwhelmingly happy.
“You doing all right?” Jack asked as she missed a step and stumbled against him.
“Yes, I guess I was sitting too long.”
He wrapped an arm around her. “The champagne might have something to do with that.”
The corridor was empty and she leaned against him. “I’ve never had champagne before.”
“I know, that’s why I thought I’d better get you home.”
For some reason, that was so funny she just couldn’t help but laugh. And laugh some more. It felt so good. She felt so good. So carefree and joyful. Remembering something he’d said once, she took off running. “Last one home’s a rotten egg.” Laughing again at the thought of how much Jack liked eggs, she repeated, “Egg!”
He’d caught up with her, took her hand, and side by side, they ran down the corridor, through the carpeted foyer and out the double glass doors, into the night air.
The marquee lights were flashing above them and she stopped to stare at them. It was magical. Everything. The lights. The night sky. Even the traffic rolling by. And him. Most certainly him.
Head back, she spun in a circle. “Oh, Jack, this has to be what Cinderella felt like.”
Smiling, he grabbed her hand and led her along the sidewalk. “Then let’s go before your chariot turns into a pumpkin.”
She laughed again. “It wasn’t a chariot, it was a carriage.”
“That’s good, because I have a Chrysler.”
“Oh, you are so funny!” He was, and that made her so happy. “And handsome. And wonderful.”
He opened the car door for her and she climbed in, leaning back, knowing she’d never been so content in her life. Or full of wonder. “Did you see that woman in the pink dress?”
“Which one?”
“The one with the pink ostrich plume. I think I’ll buy a pink dress someday.”
“And you’ll look beautiful in it.”
“I’ve never had a pink dress. Not that I can remember.” She tried, but memories didn’t want to come forward. “Nope. Must not have. Or silver. There were some pretty silver dresses there tonight, too. Not as pretty as my gold one though. I definitely like my gold one better.”
She couldn’t seem to stop chattering. They talked all the way home, about the movie, the people, the applause, the food, everything. By the time she got to the top of the stairway of the apartment building, she had to stop in order to catch her breath.
“You all right?” Jack asked.
She glanced down the flight of steps, they’d never made her breathless before.
“You didn’t lose a shoe, did you, Cinderella?”
“No.” She wiggled her toes to make sure. “If I had, would you come looking for me?”
“From here to eternity,” he said. “I wouldn’t stop until I found you again.”
There was only one thing that could make this night better, and the way he was looking at her right now said he knew what it was. She looped her arms around his neck and stretched onto the tips of her toes so their lips were aligned.
His kisses, even the tiniest ones, filled her with all sorts of warm and wonderful sensations. The one he gave her right then was even more spectacular. He tasted sweet and minty, and she could have gone on kissing him forever.
She loved the feel of his palms on her bare back, the firmness of his chest pressed against her breasts, the silkiness of his hair between her fingers.
He kissed her several times before wrapping her in an extra tight hug. “Time to go inside, Cinderella. It’s late, and Julia will want to get home.”
Knowing he’d kiss her again, because he always kissed her and Grace good-night, she agreed. “All right, Prince Charming.”
They were both laughing when they opened the door, but their laughter stopped abruptly.
The apartment was dark.
“Julia?” He closed the door and flipped on the light. “She must be in the bedroom.”
The euphoria filling Helen faded quickly and she held tight to his hand as they walked to the bedroom.
“Julia?” Jack said again.
Helen reached in and flipped the light switch, too full of concern to worry about waking Grace. The bed was empty. So was the crib.
“Jack!”
“Julia!” he shouted, running toward the kitchen.
Helen’s entire body trembled as fear clutched her. “Jack, where are they? Where’s Grace?”
He ran to the bathroom and threw open the door. “Don’t panic. Something must have come up. At the diner. Julia must have taken Grace with her.”
Struggling to breathe, Helen grabbed the back of the chair as fear fully engulfed her. “Her purse, Jack. Julia’s purse. It’s on the floor by the couch. She wouldn’t have left without her purse.” Her worst fears had come to life. She fell against the chair, her legs unable to hold her up as the terror became too great to combat. “They found me. They found me and they have Grace.”
* * *
Jack caught her before she completely crumpled onto the floor. “Helen, honey, what are you talking about? No one has Grace. She’s with Julia. Someone must have come and got them.”
She pushed him away and stumbled backward, up against the chair. Then shot forward and paced the floor. “Someone got them all right. The Outfit. The Outfit has them.”
He reached out to take ahold of her, but she batted his hands away. “The Outfit?”
“Yes, the Outfit. The mob. Gangsters. The reason my family was killed back in Chicago.”
The concern that had overcome him upon finding the apartment dark turned into cold dread. “The Chicago Outfit killed your family? I thought your family died in a fire?”
“There was no fire.” She stormed past him, then spun around. “There were tommy guns. I ran and hid. Stayed hidden. But then I had to bring Grace here. To her father. She wasn’t safe with me. They wouldn’t stop until they found me. No matter where I went.” Tears streamed down her face. “They have Grace, Jack! I know they do.”
He grabbed her and pulled her against him. “Hush, now. We’ll find her.” She had to be imagining things. Had to have drunk too much champagne. “We’ll find her.”
“Where? How?”
He wasn’t sure where or how, but he would find Grace. Releasing his arms from around her, he grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
She didn’t ask where, just ran beside him out of the apartment, down the stairs and to the car. Once there, he started the car.
“I knew they’d find me.” Her voice was shaky and tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Honey,” he said softly. “The mob isn’t looking for you.”
“Yes, they are. They are!”
He held his silence. There would
be no convincing her, but the Outfit wouldn’t have taken Grace, there was no money in that, and that’s what they were after. That’s why they’d opened the theater.
It had to be someone else. He knew Julia. She’d have put up a fight against a stranger entering the apartment. Whoever it had been, she’d known them.
He backed up the car and then swung it around, headed out of the parking lot.
Helen grabbed his arm. “We can’t go to the police. They’ll be in on it.”
He hadn’t been planning on going to the police. There was no need. He had a gut feeling of who had been here, who Julia had left with.
“Where are we going?”
“The studio.”
“The studio? The Outfit wouldn’t go there.”
“The Outfit doesn’t have Grace.”
“Yes, they do! They are after me, Jack. I’m not lying.”
A shiver rippled his spine. “The Chicago Outfit?”
“Yes!” She grabbed her forehead. “Oh... Why did I let it come to this? They have her. They have Grace.”
* * *
“No,” he said. “They don’t. But you are right, about not going to the police, because there’s no law against taking your own child.”
“What?”
“It’s Joe,” he said. Had to be. Suddenly, as if Helen’s fear was contagious, his own spiked, and he realized just how much Grace and Helen had come to mean to him. How he didn’t want to live without them. How, right now, he hated the idea that Grace belonged to Joe. He’d never been torn like this before. Torn between loving his brother, and Helen and Grace.
“Joe? Why would you say that? He doesn’t even know about Grace.”
“Yes, he does. He called. I told him.”
“When?”
Remorse coated everything else churning inside him. “A while ago.”
“A while?” she snapped. “How long is a while? Days? Weeks?” She slapped his arm. “When were you going to tell me?”
She was mad. He didn’t blame her, but he wasn’t the only one who’d kept secrets. “I don’t know. When were you going to tell me about the Outfit?”
Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep (Brides 0f The Roaring Twenties Book 1) Page 19