We were ready in less than fifteen minutes after the lights went down. Ruthie and the girls knew that if they hurried, they could catch a ride with Archie and me in his Buick, which waited for me outside the stage door most nights. He didn’t mind that the girls piled in and tagged along, as long as they got there quick—before the late night crowd began crawling out of the midtown theaters and restaurants and making their way to the clubs. Archie had a table reserved in the back of Grotto, 42, a fancy establishment where you had to be someone or know someone to get in, and he was ushered past the heavy black gates and through the brass-studded door in a snap. He liked to get settled before the crowds began filling in and the dancing began. Drinks were $1.25 a pop, but Archie took care of all of us, which the girls loved because it meant they didn’t have to agree to date some dud just to have a little fun.
I liked that he took care of my gang. Most of us were making decent money as Ziegfeld girls, between $40 and $75 a week if you were really lucky, but by the time we paid for a place to live and bought the clothes, shoes, makeup and accessories necessary to live this kind of life, and go to these kinds of places, to be considered a “new woman,” as the papers were calling us—modern, independent ladies who liked to earn our own money and make up our own minds—we had little money left to eat, and drink, and share in the reckless moral debauchery that we all got blamed for. So it was nice of him to treat everyone.
“What are you having, ladies?” he asked as the waiter headed over to our table.
“Brandy. I’m only drinking brandy from here on out,” Ruthie said.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Didn’t you hear? One of the gals from the Scandals almost died from some bathtub gin at a speak downtown.”
“That’s not going to happen here,” Archie assured us. “I’ll get you whatever you want, but I promise you this place has the good stuff.”
“That’s what they all say,” she said.
“They import wine from Europe and spirits from South America and Canada,” Archie said.
“Brandy,” she repeated. “No one can fake the smell and taste of cognac.”
“I’ll have a cherry on top,” I said with a smile.
“Two parts champagne, one part gin, one part orange juice, a dash of grapefruit and a trickle of cherry brandy,” Archie told the waiter, who wrote down the concoction. “My girl Olive here invented it,” he said.
“No, I didn’t, you did.”
“Okay, fine,” Ruthie said, “twist my arm. If it’s got brandy in it, I’ll have what she’s having.”
“A round for the table,” he said, counting the ladies I’d brought with us for the evening, as well as his friends who’d joined our table. “Make it ten, and bring these ladies a menu—they’ve been performing all night.”
Before long, some of the middle tables got pushed to the sides or taken out back to make way for a small dance floor in front of the jazz band. Once the girls had some food in their stomachs and some hooch in their veins, they were up and dancing. I hung back with Archie.
“I don’t want you to leave town again tomorrow,” I said. “I’m going to miss you terribly.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to leave, but I have to head back to Cincinnati if I want my company to keep running. Are you sure you can’t come with me?”
“You know I can’t. I’ve got shows every night this week. Who else would fly offstage if not me?”
“Yes, into another man’s arms,” he said with a schoolboy’s sulk.
“I landed in a lady’s arms tonight, and it was far more exhilarating than the sweaty palms of some apple-knocker from out of town. You can rest assured I’ve only got eyes for one big-timer, and that’s you.” I leaned in and gave him a kiss. He grabbed my chair and pulled it closer to him.
“Why don’t you stay at my suite in the Plaza while I’m gone—keep the bed warm?”
“It’ll cost a fortune to keep it while you’re gone, and I can stay at my own place.” The thought of waking up there, padding around in a plush robe and ordering breakfast in the room overlooking Central Park sounded dreamy.
“Olive, you must,” he said. “Besides, you’ll be doing me a favor—I’ve leased it for the whole year—I wouldn’t want it to sit unused until I return.”
I smiled. He seemed to mean it. “Well, if you insist.”
“Just promise me you’ll talk to Ziegfeld and ask for some time off. Next time I want to take you with me and introduce you to my friends and my family. My mother’s going to adore you—she’s a big fan of the arts.”
“I’d love to meet her.” The fact that he wanted me to meet his mother felt quite serious, but strangely it didn’t terrify me as I might have expected. In fact, it made me feel closer to him, and though I couldn’t quite picture what might lie ahead, something about the mystery of it all left me feeling excited. I was curious to meet the woman who raised such a thoughtful, generous and driven man. I’d seen how hard it had been for my mother to keep three boys on track, teaching them manners, instilling respect, helping them find their interests, which would hopefully lead to success, so even without meeting Archie’s mother I admired what she’d accomplished.
“And after Cincinnati I want to take you to Paris.”
I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but the two cities hardly seemed to belong in the same sentence. Paris sounded so much more evocative.
Archie kept on. “It’s a sin that you haven’t yet been.”
“Oh, Paris…” I put my hands on my heart. “It’s calling me—just be careful, because I have a feeling I’m going to fit right in there and might never want to return.”
“First stop, we have to go to the Folies Bergère—that was Ziegfeld’s inspiration, you know. And then the Louvre.”
“And the Eiffel Tower,” I said.
Archie rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, but knowing you, you’re going to have more fun ducking into the cafés and meeting some of the expats than you are playing a wide-eyed tourist.”
Archie had made a point to be in Manhattan when I returned home from the Adirondacks and we’d spent every spare minute together. After just a few short weeks in the city, I was already having a hard time imagining my days without him. We’d fallen into a routine. He had business dinners while I performed, and he often brought his work associates to the Frolic after. He picked me up from my show each night, and we either headed down to the Village, stayed in Times Square or jetted up to Harlem. We both stayed in his suite at the Plaza, then in the morning he’d order room service and we’d try alternating techniques to cure our hangovers. Archie swore by a fernet and Coca-Cola and rubbing vinegar on his temples, while I could get by on a cold glass of tomato juice, plain toast and a nap, which didn’t work out so well for me on rehearsal days. Those first few weeks back in Manhattan together were nonstop, each of us wanting to show the other our version of the city and to show each other off to our friends.
We went to the Cotton Club one night, to a boxing match in New Jersey the next, to dinner at a politician’s town house the next. What I loved most about Archie was his ability to fit in wherever we went—he appreciated the opportunity to explore new and different places, and he was fascinated to meet people with all different lifestyles. He could hang his hat at an uptown club just as well as he could at a speakeasy in the Village. We were like chameleons, the two of us, not too fancy but perfectly at home getting all gussied up and mingling with anyone we might meet.
After the Grotto closed, we went to Tony’s for a nightcap.
“Ruthie and I are dead set on heading up to Harlem,” Pauline said, tugging on my arm. “Tell Archie and his friends they have to come.”
“I want to, but we can’t tonight.”
“Come on, Olive, you’ve got some life left in you.”
“Of course I have,” I said. “But Archie leaves tomorrow, so I’m going to make sure he gets a good night’s sleep.”
We walked up to the Plaza arm in arm. “Mr. Carmichael, welcome back,” the doorman said, holding open the glass door to the towering marble palace. I felt like a million bucks walking through those doors with Archie by my side. At the beginning of the summer, I could never have imagined being taken with someone so mature and businesslike and yet so fun and dashing. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for me to take my eyes off the stage for more than a minute for a man, but the funny thing was I was having a grand time onstage and a grand time off. It was as if I were proving everyone wrong. I could have it all.
Archie led us over to the manager at the front desk. “I wanted to let you know I’ll be heading back to Cincinnati tomorrow for a week or so, and Miss Shine will be staying as my guest in my suite.”
“Of course, Mr. Carmichael, I will be sure to let the staff know.”
“Thank you, I’m glad to know she will be well taken care of, and if there’s anything she needs, anything at all, please make sure she is attended to.”
“As you wish, sir.”