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?
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 Evie 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