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The Glittering Life of Evie Mckenzie Page 2


  But today she had a different mission. She walked to the far wall of the little space and slid open the concealed door that appeared to be a simple paneled wall. It moved back to reveal a staircase to the basement. Tug flipped a switch, illuminating the bare bulb hanging below her and descended, shivering. She always felt a damp sense of foreboding as she went down to the basement passageway between the two buildings. She eyed it now, glancing back up the stairs out of habit.

  The tunnel between the buildings wasn’t walled in like a proper building would be. It was more like a mine shaft, the floor and walls made of damp hard stones meant to keep the earth from toppling in. Tug made her way around the support beams holding the ceiling in place and held her breath as she unlocked the door on the other side.

  As she stepped into the damp dark space just below Evie’s, she released her breath, wiping a hand across her brow. It took every ounce of bravery she had to venture through that tunnel each time she did it, as images of the walls toppling on her insisted on crowding her mind. But she wasn’t just another dumb Dora. She was Tug. Tough and street-smart. Or at least that’s what her father had told her all her life.

  *****

  The basement beneath the club smelled of liquor, the inevitable result of avoiding the investigations of the Prohibition agents who liked to drop in upstairs. Tug picked up a broom and swept up some shattered glass that she hadn’t noticed before, pushing it into a corner of the dark space. There were boxes piled in a corner. And against the far wall, there was a long open hole in the ceiling – one that happened to line up with the counter behind the bar in the club above. It had been a quick solution to a simple problem, but it lacked elegance. And it was wasteful.

  Tug had helped pile the mattresses that waited beneath the hole now, and she found herself almost eager for a raid. She wanted to prove that her idea would work. She’d tested it with a few bottles full of water, and only one had broken when it had slid off the side. She’d rearranged the padding and hoped that next time the agents visited she’d be able to convert the club into an innocuous tea room without wasting a drop. She smiled at her own cleverness and pushed her way back out the door and through the tunnel, switching off the light as she returned to the apartment above. She sighed, imagining once again that this might be her apartment someday, and then shook her head. Back to business. She left the apartment, and with another quick look around, she let herself out and returned to the club.

  ‘Looks good,’ she told Chuck as she let herself back behind the bar. The bottles along the back counter were arranged with enough space between them that they shouldn’t crash into each other as they fell. It wasn’t perfect, but it would probably work. Tug smiled at Chuck and pushed her coat back beneath the counter.

  *****

  The evening flew as Tug attended to the guests that visited the club and managed the upkeep of everything from the bar top to the bathroom. She was surprised when Roger’s deep voice rolled her way as she bent beneath the bar to wash some glasses, his rich baritone rumbling through her and warming her to her fingertips.

  ‘Elizabeth, things are looking fine here.’

  ‘Roger!’ she smiled up at him. ‘Is it another weekend already?’

  ‘It is,’ he said, his dark eyes dancing.

  ‘Tug!’ Evelyn McKenzie followed behind Roger. ‘How are you, darling?’

  ‘As good as can be expected,’ Tug said. ‘You know, the life of the working stiff.’ Tug smiled. She was glad to see Evie, even if having Evie around impinged on her ability to pretend that she and Roger were a couple, something she sometimes did, though she certainly wasn’t proud of it.

  ‘Oh,’ Evie smiled. ‘You love it. Don’t pretend you’d rather be anywhere else.’

  ‘I do love it.’ Tug smiled. ‘I have no idea how you spend your days in those stuffy lectures. I wouldn’t survive so many flat tires all in one place.’

  Evie laughed. ‘No, it’s interesting, Tug! It really is.’ Evie sat down at the bar and Chuck put a glass in front of her as Roger bent down to kiss her cheek.

  ‘Do you mind if Tug talks business with Chuck and me for a couple minutes?’ he asked.

  ‘Course not. You three go ahead.’

  Roger, Chuck, and Tug moved to the end of the small bar and surveyed the space together. It was packed at that hour, each small table surrounded by two or three people, the trio playing off in the corner and the bar lined with folks ready to give up their money for the gin they could no longer get in places that didn’t have elaborate operating procedures or cops on the payroll. Evie’s had both. And the place was flourishing as a result. It was bigger than a lot of clubs, and the tables scattered sparsely around the open floor had always bothered Tug’s sense of aesthetic, as well as her desire to make money.

  ‘We’ve got the sound now, Rog, but look at ‘em. They want something else. Their feet are tapping, they’re bobbing their heads. All that energy …’

  Roger looked around and then back at Tug. ‘Something more, eh? Like what?’

  ‘You’re the big cheese,’ Tug said. She turned to Chuck. ‘And you’re here all the time. You must have some thoughts. You tell me.’

  ‘Baloney,’ Chuck laughed. ‘You’re gonna tell us what you want to do, just like always. Let’s hear it.’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. Maybe just clear out some space to dance.’

  ‘We don’t have the room, Tug. Take out tables and we lose money. People need a place to sit while they get ossified.’ Roger turned skeptical dark eyes on her, and Tug felt her mood deflate.

  ‘Give her a chance, Rog. She’s here day and night. She’s got a feel for the place.’ Chuck gave her an encouraging smile.

  ‘This place needs something, Rog. Something to make it special,’ Tug said.

  ‘It’s got you, Tug.’

  Tug rolled her eyes. Roger had the money to bankroll the club and get it going, but he lacked the vision to see what it might be. And Chuck? She still hadn’t figured him out. He seemed like he was just along for the ride, but he shared the club equally with Roger, and Tug doubted he cared as little as it seemed. She was determined to show them what the club could be, and for them to enjoy the fruits of their success. ‘I’m going to keep working on it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect any less.’

  ‘This would be easier if you were a pushover, you know.’

  Chuck laughed out loud and returned to serving customers. Roger grinned, and then moved to where Evie sat at the bar, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

  Tug watched as Evie smiled up at him. It was like a painting. Everything with them was exactly as it should be. They were like Upper East Side royals, meant for each other. She loved Evie, but sometimes it was hard to watch the little rich girl get everything that Tug had once expected for herself. She’d once seen herself as Evie’s equal. And while Evie certainly treated her the same way she always had, Tug knew that a divide that was worlds wide had opened between them. Evie stood on one side, with men like Roger and Chuck. And Tug watched from a distant shore. Life just unfolded for people like them, Tug thought. Other people had to fight for every little scrap. She swallowed down the bitter taste that had risen in her throat and forced herself to smile. Evie couldn’t help where she was from anymore than Tug could.

  ‘Cute, aren’t they?’ Chuck asked, making Tug jump. She hadn’t realized he was watching the couple over her head.

  She turned and looked up into his cheerful face. There was a wistful expression there she hadn’t noticed before. She followed his gaze back to Roger and Evie. Could Chuck be jealous, too?

  Chapter Three

  Evie

  Once Evie began to think of herself as a society columnist, everything she saw and heard seemed ripe for exploitation in a column. But two events had jumped out as the ideal subjects for her first piece. She handed the column to Mr Tobias and sat on the edge of her chair, waiting for his reaction.

  ‘The Manhattan Mouth?’ He raised a skeptical eyebrow and Ev
ie felt her nerves spike. ‘That’s what you wanna be called, “Manhattan Mouth”?,’ he mused to himself. ‘Sounds kind of obnoxious, dontcha think?’

  ‘Well, I …’ Evie began.

  ‘Just give it a second to roll around in my head. Lemme read what you’ve got here.’ Tobias bent over the words that Evie had spent hours typing onto the page. He read the page and then looked up at Evie again, a serious look on his face. He picked up the sheet of paper and snapped it in front of him, pulling it up in front of his face.

  Evie fidgeted. It seemed he was going to read it again.

  After another moment, he put the paper back down on his desk with a smack and grinned up at Evie. ‘Here’s what we’re gonna do.’ He leaned back in his chair, the smile still on his face. ‘You’re not gonna be the “Mouth.” It just doesn’t fit. But the Mouse, now … what do you think?’

  ‘The Manhattan Mouse?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Evie smiled. It did sound more demure. And secretive. ‘I like it. I think that’s better.’

  ‘Sure it is.’ Tobias was still smiling.

  ‘So … the column?’

  ‘Yeah, so you’ve got this Hattie Whozit left in the lurch by this rich kid just before the wedding … for an older woman. I like that. That’s perfect.’ Tobias chuckled. He was staring at a spot on the wall just behind Evie’s head. She guessed he was thinking as he spoke, and sat still despite the awkward feeling that she should turn and see what he was looking at. ‘And then you’ve got this political type escorted from a club that “doesn’t exist” by a cop who definitely knows it don’t exist, and who certainly wasn’t drinking there … yeah, kid. Yeah, this is good stuff.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad you like it.’

  ‘How’d you get it?’

  Evie sat up straighter. ‘Just like you said, sir. Just talked to a few people who know people, and …’

  ‘Right, that’s good. Yeah, I don’t really want to know.’ Tobias fixed her with a stare. ‘Here’s a tip. Get people to tell you things about themselves. Then, get them to tell you things about other people that they promised they wouldn’t tell anyone.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By threatening to talk about the things they told you about themselves. Collect secrets like coins, and you’ll be rich, kid.’

  It made sense. But it sounded a little more unscrupulous than Evie was prepared to accept. She nodded, only to avoid any further suggestions that might make her second guess her newfound profession.

  ‘All right, Mouse. Get out there and dig up some dirt! Let’s have a column a week. Due on Tuesday.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Evie rose. Tobias was still grinning when she let herself out of his office and skipped down to the street, feeling a sense of independence that she had never experienced before.

  *****

  That night Roger came to call, taking Evie to see a new picture called The Ten Commandments at the Fugazy Theater in the Village. They hadn’t had much time alone together since Roger had gone back to school after the holidays, and Evie found herself looking forward to having the generous smile and dark warm eyes all to herself for a change. ‘You look fantastic!’ Roger stood in the entry of Evie’s parents’ townhouse.

  ‘You do, darling, you look wonderful.’ Her father beamed at Roger’s side.

  Evie had taken special care with her hair and even dared to rouge her lips and cheeks, despite her mother’s regular objections to face painting. She wore a pale green dress that hit just below her knee with a beaded neckline and a chiffon swag around the drop waist. Her satin heels pinched her feet, but since they’d be sitting down most of the night, she wasn’t concerned. She adjusted the headband she’d pulled around her dark bob and gave both men a bright smile as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘You look wonderful, too,’ she told Roger. And he did. His thick dark hair always made Evie want to run her hands through it, and the sparkle in his chocolate eyes sent a thrilling shiver down her spine.

  He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek and then shook hands with her father. ‘I’ll have her home at a decent hour, Mr McKenzie.’

  ‘We don’t worry when she’s with you, Roger,’ Evie’s father said, smiling.

  Roger helped Evie on with her coat and they were off, braving the frosty evening breeze as they walked to Roger’s car, parked along the curb.

  Roger had a convertible, but he’d pulled the top up to keep some of the wind off them as they drove downtown.

  ‘Are you warm enough, sweetie?’ Roger glanced over at Evie, who was shivering on the cold seat. ‘Oh, no, you’re not. You’re freezing! Scoot over,’ he said, holding one arm out to pull her close.

  Evie moved in close to the warmth of Roger’s body, inhaling the scent of soap and leather that always seemed to linger on his skin. She leaned into him, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of comfort and security that she always found at his side.

  Roger maneuvered the little car through the busy streets, and Evie was content to watch the world glide by. It was amazing to her that she’d ever considered Roger too boring a prospect for her. There was a time – before she knew that he was actually running a speakeasy – that she’d believed he was just another dull Upper East Side college boy. Her parents had paraded plenty of them through the parlor at the house after Evie had been presented to society. It seemed that the pressure was on to plan out the rest of her life right away. And that had never really been what Evie wanted. But Roger was the perfect match for her sense of adventure. He was safe and predictable in the right ways, but had an unexpected dash of danger too. She gazed up at his profile, lit by the street lamps that glowed beyond the windows. He was close to perfect, she thought.

  There had been another man, once. A man that appealed to her interest in the darker side of life. He’d been intriguing and seductive – the owner of another speakeasy she had been to with the girls. But in the end, she’d chosen Roger. And her mind strayed to the icy blue eyes of Jack Taylor only now and then. She assured herself that he had forgotten her, anyway. She hadn’t seen him in months, and she certainly wouldn’t seek him out now.

  ‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ Roger asked, his full lips smiling down at her.

  ‘Just enjoying the ride,’ she said, pushing thoughts of Jack from her mind.

  ‘Well, I hope you won’t be disappointed then,’ he said. ‘Because we’re here.’

  The Fugazy Theater rose before them, its name in lights on the vertical sign at the corner of the building. The marquee in front declared the Cecil DeMille movie ‘Amazing’, and Evie found herself looking forward to the show.

  ‘I’ve heard that the Red Sea scene is incredible,’ Roger told her as they took their seats.

  ‘Oh, don’t spoil it for me!’

  ‘All right.’ He held her hand through the show, and Evie enjoyed the sensation of sitting in a dark theater, holding Roger’s hand. When he leaned in to whisper to her, his warm breath caressed her neck, and by the end of the picture, Evie found herself feeling flushed, and hoping that Roger didn’t plan to simply take her home.

  ‘Want to stop by the club?’ he asked as he helped her into her coat. He played with the edge of his hat, and shifted his weight.

  ‘Sure,’ Evie said. ‘Are you all right?’ He seemed uncomfortable suddenly.

  ‘Fine,’ Roger said, smiling broadly but still looking uncertain.

  Evie couldn’t shake the sense that he was nervous about something, and he seemed distracted as he drove, whistling and grinning at her from time to time.

  ‘You sure you’re all right?’ she asked him as they got out in front of the club.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said, putting an arm around her. ‘Never better.’

  They descended the steps and Roger knocked on the door. A small window slid open and then shut again, and the door pulled inward. ‘Hey boss,’ said the man standing behind the door.

  ‘Sal,’ Roger said, taking off his hat.

  The c
lub was quiet, and it took a moment for Evie to realize that there was no one there. The band played quietly on the platform in the corner, and the tables all held candles, but there were no patrons sitting at the tables, chatting and drinking. She turned to Roger with a question in her throat, only to find him standing at the bar with his back to her. When he turned around, he had two glasses of champagne in hand, and a broad smile on his handsome face.

  Evie’s skin tingled with anticipation. Something was happening. Something big.

  Roger walked to a table in the middle of the club as the doorman let himself out onto the street, leaving them alone. ‘Join me?’ Roger said.

  Evie moved to the small table and smiled, taking the champagne that Roger held out to her. ‘What’s all this?’

  Roger put his glass down and knelt before her. ‘Evelyn McKenzie, darling,’ he paused and then laughed. ‘I can’t tell you how nervous you’ve got me right now!’

  ‘You?’ Evie’s body was buzzing and it felt as if electricity was zapping through her veins. Roger was proposing! Shock bubbled in her, and she knew she was smiling like a fool.

  ‘Evelyn … Evie,’ he began again. ‘You know I love you. I can’t imagine a day where I don’t have you in my life. I guess you know where I’m headed with this already …’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden ring with three stones set in the top. ‘Evie, will you marry me?’

  Evie found herself giggling, and she reached down to pull Roger back to his feet. ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘I’d love to!’

  Roger slid the ring onto her finger, and then leaned down to kiss her. His warm lips met hers and Evie felt the bubbles in her stomach turn to something warmer, something that had her mind buzzing and her fingers tingling. And when Roger’s tongue gently parted her lips, Evie found that her mind fled altogether and her body took over. But just as she found herself pressed against him, her entire body on fire as the stiffness pressed into her belly made her think of all that might be about to happen, Roger stepped back and waved her to her seat.