Sample II

“Putting on a Good Show”

July 26, 1922, New York, NY

Florence,

If you get this before I arrive, I’ll be in New York tonight. I really need to talk to you: It’s important. There are things you need to know

Yours Truly,

William

The letter had been distracting Flo all day long and now, the hubbub of the Casa Blanca, she was beginning to feel panicked. She had received the letter earlier in the day—around nine in the morning, an unusually crude hour to wake a flapper with a doorbell—but she had kept telling herself it wasn’t a big deal. Now with 10:30 pm rolling around, she was beginning to worry.

It William really was in New York, he'd be waiting for her when she got home. There would be no escape. He’d somehow found her and if he managed to do it then the others would be quick to follow. The panic lined her stomach and churned the liquor unfavorably. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration, but instead, it had turned into one of dread. William was in New York and he’d be waiting for her. He wouldn’t leave unless they met.

“What’s eating you, doll?” Flo snapped her head to her left and saw the handsome Edward lowering himself into the stool next to her at the bar. His neck-length brown hair was slicked back nicely with only a few strands hanging over his face and he wore a freshly ironed blue suit with a white shirt tucked underneath. He looked devilishly handsome all done up like that and he made Flo’s heart melt.

“Everything’s jake, Eddie,” Flo said in an attempt at reassurance, but she couldn’t even manage a small smile. He knew something was up.

“You should know by now I can read you like a book, Flo,” he said, leaning closer. His whole being smelled of a delicious aftershave, the most comforting smell Flo ever sniffed.

Thank God he doesn’t smoke, she thought to herself.

“What’s going on?” he pushed. With the small distance between them, the wafts of his aftershave caused her to feel weak and with four glasses of hooch in her, Flo almost opened up and told Eddie everything. But she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t about to get him wrapped up in all her bushwa. Flo’s problems were hers to take care of and she knew she needed to face them on her own.

“It’s like I said, baby,” Flo said in her low, seductive voice. “Everything’s copacetic.” Eddie fixed his brown eyes on Flo’s bright green ones—lined with kohl and mascara—and searched them deeply. He sighed and leaned away, scratching his scruffy cheeks.

God, he’s so handsome, Flo squealed to herself.

“Alright,” he replied. “Well, how’s about we enjoy ourselves then before the big show?” he suggested, holding out his hand to Flo as he stood up from the bar and nodded to the dance floor. Flo smiled as some of her panic subsided and graciously placed her small, dainty hand inside of Eddie’s tan one, allowing him to lead her to the crowded area of the speakeasy where everyone was dancing and hollering in their good time.

That night, Flo was going to be giving her first performance as Casa Blanca’s newest singer. The speakeasy’s big cheese—Mr. Larry Fey himself—was hiding amongst everyone to make sure his amateur girl was good enough to keep around. Flo had to be sure she did her absolute best, but with that damn letter as a distraction, she was worried she’d screw up and then be given the bum’s rush. Mr. Fey wasn’t keen on giving people second chances and he had already told Flo he was taking a big risk in hiring her when he should’ve got with a professional. But she’d seen what everyone had always seen in Flo: an orange-haired beauty with dazzling, hypnotic green eyes and a killer body any guy would go goofy for. She was viewed as a prize, as something to be won or showcased. That’s the way it had always been for her.

But Eddie was so different. He didn’t just see Flo as a trophy, but as a person; someone with feelings and—God forbid—a brain. There was only one other person in her life who saw her like that and she left him behind a year and a half ago. That’s why Flo carried a torch for Eddie; he was everything she needed.

It felt so right to be in his arms as they slow-danced admits the bustling flappers and their beaus as they broke out in the Charleston or the Lindy Hop. Instead, Flo and Eddie gently moved across the dance floor in the foxtrot. Flo’s knee-length black, tassel fringed dress shifted gently against her legs and the golden sequins designed as paisleys on the front and back of her dress shimmered in the soft nightlight atmosphere. Looking into Eddie’s brown eyes, Flo felt at peace for the first time in almost a year.

Suddenly, the music died and the disappointed dancers’ protests snapped Flo and Eddie out of their trance. They both looked up to see Mr. Fey standing on the stage, motioning for the band members to step behind the scarlet-colored curtain.

“Ladies and gents!” he announced through the microphone cradled in its stand. “We’re going to be taking a quick breather as we prepare our songbird, Ms. Florence Nolan for her first performance here at the Casa Blanca. Where are you, Ms. Nolan?” Mr. Fey asked, bringing his hand above his eyes in a scanning motion. When he spotted Flo’s orange hair in the crowd he summoned the light operator to shine his beam right on her. Flo shaded her eyes and watched with squinted vision as Eddie backed up from the spotlight and clapped happily for her as everyone else in the speakeasy cheered obnoxiously, the liquor helping to brighten their mood.

“Stick around, folks! She’s not just a beauty, but also brimming with talent!” Mr. Fey finished, walking off the stage and heading behind the curtain. The spotlight was finally removed from Flo and she walked over to Eddie as some people patted her on the back, wishing her good luck.

“I guess that’s my cue,” she said with a small smile. Now that they were back in the real world, Flo’s panic settled in again and she dreaded having to take the stage in such a state.

“You’ll be hitting all sixes tonight, Flo,” Eddie said, placing his hands on her shoulder. “I know you will.” Flo looked down at her shoes and nodded solemnly.

“Afterwards it’ll be just you and me,” he added, whispering softly in her ear. Flo looked up and saw Eddie’s had moved much closer to hers. When she tried to say something coy, Eddie stopped her lips with an electrifying kiss that sent tingles through her whole body.

“What’s that for?” she breathed once he broke away.

“For good luck, baby vamp,” he replied, pressing his forehead against hers. “And for whatever ales you.” Flo smiled and stepped back.

“I’ll see you in two shakes,” she said, heading to the door at the back of the speakeasy marked PERFORMERS ONLY. As she walked backstage to get ready, Flo’s smile faded when she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair over at the bar. Her head snapped to the figure dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, carrying a fedora under his arm. He lifted his drink to her and nodded his head to the exit beside the bar, slinking out the door and into the alleyway with the hat back on his head.

“William?” Flo breathed, almost not believing what she saw it happened so quickly. Looking around her she saw some people stare at her oddly. She offered them all quick smiles as she hurried through the crowd to follow the figure into the night. She slammed her body against the door and stepped into the spitting rain outside, her heels clicking wetly on the pavement.

“Will?” she yelled, hoping for a response and praying it wasn’t just her imagination that conjured him up.

“I see you’ve become quite the showgirl. Practically living your dream out here,” a somber voice replied in the dark. Flo whipped around in the narrow alleyway, seeing a tall figure draped in the shadows as he leaned on the brick wall.

“What are you doing here? How’d you find me?” Flo demanded, coming closer to him under a flickering street lamp.

“I think I should be the one asking questions, don’t you think?” William asked.

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Flo snapped. William sighed and stepped out of the dark and into the low light, his vivid green eyes blazing underneath the black fedora he wore. The soft drizzle turned steady collected on the rim of the hat and poured onto the shoulders of his nice suit, drenching the rest of him. Lucky for the both of them it was still a hot summer’s night, but Flo shivered despite herself.

“I was able to finagle my way into your apartment when I arrived. I just told the landlady I was your beau and I left my keys inside. She was very congenial,” he explained. “You had the date circled on your calendar with the time and name of the place.”

“You need to leave, Will,” Flo said, rubbing her shoulders to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t coming from the occasional breeze; it was inside her.

“I need answers first, Florence,” Will snapped, stomping towards her. Flo backed away quickly, slamming into the wall behind her. “How could you?” Will breathed, his voice gentler.

“How could I what?” Flo snarled. Will stared down at her with the same eyes she possessed and she felt a twinge of guilt for what she did.

“How could you have just left?” he asked, his voice filled with hurt. Flo’s hard gaze turned soft as she watched Will’s tall body go slack with sadness. “Why?” he asked. Flo sighed and lowered her head, watching the raindrops fall into the puddle under her feet.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Flo replied. When she lifted her eyes she saw the shock etched all over Will’s face, almost as if she’d slapped him.

“Why would you say that?” Will asked. “I’m your brother. Of course I would understand if you would only talk to me!” Flo felt her heart begin breaking at the memory what she left behind. But so much had happened that she couldn’t possibly retell all of it to Will now; especially only a few minutes before she was scheduled to take the stage.

“I want an explanation,” Will stated. “You owe me that much.” Flo stared into her brother’s eyes. He was right; he deserved to know why she had suddenly up and left. It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t his fault.

“I couldn't just be married off like that,” Flo whispered, her voice breaking as she recalled the awful memories. “You have no idea what Charles was like.” Flo’s eyes pricked with tears and she lowered her head, her makeup already running from being out in the rain. But Will lifted her head up by her chin and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. His eyes showed understanding this time and he silently encouraged her to continue.

“He always smoked at home,” Flo began. “He never wanted anyone else to know so would never do it in front of our parents or other people. The house reeked of cigar smoke. I didn’t even know until about a month into our engagement. It was the first time he beat me.” Will’s face turned to horror at Flo’s revelation and he looked at her in disbelief.

“He called me a sneaky bitch and burned his cigar into my side. It was the first time and it wasn’t the last, either,” Flo said. “He continued to abuse me and I knew I couldn’t tell anyone because who would believe me?!”

“I would have,” Will said softly. “Why didn’t you just come to me?”

“I was scared!” Flo shouted. “Charles was the only heir to the Sullivan fortune and mom and dad insisted on my marrying him! Even if I told them it wouldn’t have changed anything. I would’ve been sold off to him anyways and forced to spend the rest of my life in pain and misery.”

“So you thought your only option was to run away,” Will said.

“I couldn’t do it!” Flo sobbed, the tears spilling down her face and ruining the rest of her makeup. “I couldn’t live like that. I refused to be some prized doll trapped behind a glass wall, slowly rotting away without anyone taking notice. And I won’t do it! So if that’s why you’re here—to bring me back—you can forget it, Will. I’ll never go back there, ever!”

Flo’s entire body shook with tears and she covered her face with her hands, letting out awful sobs as her panic, fear, and frustration flooded out of her. But Will didn’t say anything; he only wrapped his strong arms around his sister and stroked her hair, like they did when they comforted each other as children. Flo had never felt so small, so fragile. She had exposed herself—even though it was to her brother—and she detested the raw sensation. When her tears began to dry up and Flo’s body relaxed into the familiar embrace of her brother, Will finally spoke up.

“I’m not here to take you back,” he said. Flo wiped her eyes, her hands coming away black with soiled makeup, and looked up at Will with confusion.

“Then why are you here?” she asked. Will smiled, his own eyes brimming with tears.

“I just wanted to see my little sister again,” he laughed. Flo blurted out a short laugh and sniffled, hugging him again. “And I needed to warn you about something.”

“What?” Flo asked, breaking away from the hug.

“Mother and father have stopped looking for you and decided to marry me off to some daughter of father’s rich friend. But Charles hasn’t.” Flo’s eyes widened in fear.

“What has he done?” she whispered urgently.

“Nothing yet. So far he has no leads but he’s hired a private investigator named Theodore Gibbons. I gathered some research on him from Howie and he’s extremely skilled in what he does.” Howard Jackson, more fondly known as Howie, was a dear friend of Flo and Will when they were children in elementary and secondary school. He had grown up fairly well off but decided to pursue his dream of becoming a law enforcer. Apparently, Will still kept in touch with him even after all these years of having rarely seen him.

“Florence,” Will continued, “if he finds you, it’s all over.” Flo’s heart dropped and she felt her stomach tighten, her liquor threatening to come up.

“Does he know you’re here?” Flo asked, her voice becoming frantic.

“No. Charles doesn’t keep in touch with any of us and mother and father think I’m spending the weekend in Boston with some old college chums,” Will reassured her and Flo sighed with relief.

Flo’s family was an old, rich one with a large mansion and sizable amount of land in Newport, Rhode Island. Her parents gratified themselves in their money, looks, and well-educated children: Flo has attended Finishing School after her secondary education and Will attended Harvard in Massachusetts. At twenty-four and twenty-five, Flo and Will were their parents’ pride and joy; as long as they obeyed, never disagreed, and always fell in line, no matter what.

“So you came all this way just to warn me about Charlie?” Flo asked, smiling up at Will.

“Of course,” he replied. “You wouldn’t have run away without a good reason.” Flo nodded and wiped away the rest of her tears, her face wet from the rain that was becoming heavier. Her styled hair was now drenched and the beautiful diamond headpiece sagged down above her eyebrows. She could only imagine what she looked like.

“By the way,” Will said, placing his fedora on Flo’s head to shield her from the rain, despite the damage already done. “Don’t you have a show to put on? I can presume they’re all waiting for you.” Flo sighed and glanced at the door leading into the speakeasy.

“I supposed you’re right,” she replied. “Won’t you come in and watch?”

“I’d reckon I’d be a real wet blanket if I didn’t,” Will smirked and Flo giggled at her brother’s attempt to not sound like a Bluenose.

“Maybe you should just let me do the talking, Joe Brooks,” Flo said, taking Will’s hand and leading him back into the speakeasy. “We’ll get some giggle juice in ya and we’ll have ourselves a whoopee.”

“Just don’t get me ossified, old girl,” Will replied. Flo snickered and opened the door, stumbling inside the joint dripping wet and running into the stage manager, Joseph.

“For God’s sake, Flo, you look like you just tumbled in here!” he yelled, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from Will. She pulled her arm from his grip, took off Will’s hat, and put it back on his head.

“Go dry up, Joe,” she snapped. “We’ve got plenty of time before the big man starts gettin’ antsy. If you bums back there really had any talent, you’ll be able to make me look like a regular Queen of Sheba in less than five minutes.” Flo swiveled around to Will who stared at her like she was a completely different person. She winked at him, waving goodbye as Joe dragged her into the back to get her ready.

As she and Joe made their way through the crowd, Flo caught Eddie sitting at the bar and staring at her with confusion at her atrocious appearance and glancing at Will. Flo snapped her fingers at him and gave him a look that promised an explanation after her performance. He smiled and lifted his glass to her. Opening the door, Joe pointed Flo to the makeup artist who gawked at her in disbelief. Flo huffed and untied her headpiece, placing it down on the small makeup table in front of her.

“I know, I look like a rag-a-muffin,” Flo sighed, taking a seat in the chair. The woman shook her head vehemently and began fumbling with Flo’s hair.

“No, no, it’s alright, Miss,” she said. “You’ll be the cat’s meow by the time I’m done with you.” Flo smiled and closed her eyes as the woman worked her magic.

Twenty minutes later with a short vocal warmup, Flo looked better than when she first walked into the Casa Blanca a few hours ago. Her shoulder-length orange locks were curled to perfection and the headpiece had been tightened back in its place around her head. But what took her by surprise was the makeup: Flo’s green eyes popped with smoky shadow bedazzled with green glitter and the fresh mascara and kohl gave them a sultry appearance. She looked absolutely killer.

“What do you think?” the woman asked excitedly.

“It’s the bee's knees! Thank you,” Flo said graciously. The woman nodded and ushered Flo to go stand by the curtain to wait for her cue.

Straightening her dress, Flo smiled as the butterflies fluttered happily in her stomach. Tonight was going to be just fine; she could feel it now. Everything and worked out for a reason and it was going to get better.

“You’re on, Flo,” Joe said.

“Put on a good show, bearcat,” she whispered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the stage, into the bright spotlight and thunderous applause.