Читать книгу The Glittering Life Of Evie Mckenzie - Delancey Stewart - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Tug

Elizabeth ‘Tug’ Hadley leaned across the bar top, her gaze sweeping the small space before her. PJ and the boys were playing in the corner, their little trio throwing out notes that just a few years ago would have sounded cacophonous. Jazz had swept the city. The club was just beginning to fill up, and the little tables in the far corners held couples on dates, off-duty policemen and single men just looking to relax and unwind after a long week. To Tug, it was all perfect.

Ever since Roger and Chuck had asked her to manage their club, she’d felt like her life had found its rhythm. She would never be a debutante like her best friend Evie – not now, anyway – and her parents didn’t have enough money to quietly ignore her like Janie’s. No, she would have to be a different kind of woman altogether. The kind who made it on her own.

There had been a time when the idea of working at all would have been abhorrent – if not to her, then to her mother who essentially told her what to think about the world. Mrs Hadley had spent Tug’s childhood setting in place a fragile scaffolding that would allow her daughter to climb much higher than her own social standing had allowed her to do. She’d raised Tug to believe she would one day open her door to find the world delivered to her on a silver platter.

But those days were long since gone. Tug’s mother had taken Tug’s future with her when she’d left, and what Tug needed more than anything was for someone to believe in her ability to change, to redefine herself.

And Roger and Chuck had given her a shot.

‘You okay, Chuck? I’m going down to finish setting up our little experiment downstairs.’ Tug turned to the lanky blond man leaning across the bar top.

Chuck handed a drink to the red-cheeked man sitting alone at the end of the bar and shot Tug a smile. ‘I got it, Tug. You go ahead. I’ll be fine.’

‘I think Roger’s back. We should see him in a bit, so I want to make sure things are perfect.’ Tug pulled on her coat as she talked.

She cared what Roger thought. About her efforts at his club. And about her, too. It was pointless, really, and she knew it. She told herself every night just how ridiculous her crush was. But it didn’t seem to make a difference to her heart. Roger White was handsome and kind, successful and smart. He was exactly the kind of man she’d been raised to marry. And he was practically engaged to her best friend. ‘Let’s make sure we keep everything spic and span.’

‘I always do.’ Chuck sighed.

*****

Tug climbed up the stairs and let herself out onto the street, glancing around out of habit. The club, a small speakeasy called Evie’s, had been raided a few times since she’d been managing the place. But they’d never run into any real trouble. And part of the reason for that was the clever system Roger had worked out to drop the liquor off the shelf at the quick pull of a switch. The downside to his system was that the bottles dropped a full story into the basement below the bar, shattering on impact. The basement had never been discovered by the authorities, since it didn’t physically link to the building under which it sat. And according to public record, the building where Evie’s operated had no basement. Tug suspected that oversight had been achieved by Roger’s ability to charm people and to grease official palms when needed.

Tug climbed the stairs leading up to the front door of the residential building next door to the club and fitted her key into the lock. She pushed through the vestibule and walked quickly to a back stairwell that led down to the garden apartment below. She used another key to let herself in there.

A small desk sat against one wall, and a low table and a few chairs were scattered about the small space. Roger and Chuck used this apartment as an office, though Tug always imagined that it could be a cozy home if she just had the chance to bring in the right furniture and shine the place up a bit. She sometimes came over during the day and let herself in, just to escape the walls of her own home, which seemed to grow closer the older she got. She’d bring a book and spend hours in the quiet that the little space provided.

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?