Delancey Stewart - The Glittering Life Of Evie Mckenzie

‘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 you, 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.