Delancey Stewart - The Glittering Life Of Evie Mckenzie

‘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.