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77: Jinx
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World of Tomorrow 78: Niche
Slogging through the rain-saturated soil, Evelyn fretted about ruining her shoes, but with Andrew gone into the office for the day, she had little else to do with her time. Music drifted across the grounds towards her, most likely from the restored pool and spa of the hotel, so she angled towards higher ground, with the intention of making her way there.As she reached the rise she’d been climbing, the Mona Lisa restaurant she adored came into view. Like her brownstone apartment building in New York, it had been somewhat sheltered from El Cordonazo’s worst destructive efforts by the lee of both the landscape and the nearby buildings.Still, the neon rooftop sign proclaiming ‘Mona Lisa’ tipped at a precarious angle, its supporting frame badly bent. The window awnings on both the first and second floors were mostly gone and what remained hung in limp fluttering tatters. The two upright potted cypress topiaries that had flanked the restaurant&rsquo
World of Tomorrow 79: Cocoanut Grove
The Cocoanut Grove originally opened as a small nightclub lounge in the Ambassador Hotel. Within a few months after, the grand ballroom was annexed to expand the available space of the popular hang-out for the hotel’s guests, the visiting country club set and the crasser Hollywood producers and movie stars. Unlike El Morocco in New York City, in Los Angeles, there was simply no other place to go. No one entertained with the grand, elegant aristocratic manner that the Ambassador supplied. Whether ‘old money’ or nouveau riche, this was where everyone who was anyone got together, to be seen, cosseted, and entertained. While the hotel’s rooms were decorated in pastel tints in the furniture, fine French cretonne, appealing prints and original paintings on the walls, with hanging window boxes and stately palms to round out the tropical theme, the Cocoanut Grove took this far to the extreme. “I can’t believe all of the people here,” Evelyn exclaimed softly as the Moroccan designed gold-lea
World of Tomorrow 80: Fortuitous
“I’ll miss the citrus,” Evelyn sighed, savoring the half grapefruit that had been served with their breakfast. “I’ll ask Mr. Valenzuela to ship some to New York for you, darling.” His eyes followed the valet and maid he’d hired for the morning as they worked in the bedroom, busily packing their belongings from the closets. “Do you have everything you’ll need for the train?” “That’s the third time you’ve asked me,” she chided gently. “Yes. Everything I’ll need is there by the door.” “So you did. I apologize. This whole mess with the route being altered until they can restore the bridge washed out from the deluge has me slightly off-kilter.” Picking up his spoon, he stirred his coffee again, then took a sip. “Is it that? Or the Declaration of Panama and the maritime boundaries it designates?” She smiled when he focused on her somewhat in shock. “I can read headlines, you know.” He sighed. “That didn’t help. It’s not yet approved, but we need to move on it quickly.” “I thought you h
World of Tomorrow 81: Sleuthing
“Evelyn, you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met.” Andrew’s eyes twinkled blue and green as he smiled down his narrow nose at her. Despite the public venue, he ducked his head and kissed her cheek, lingering just so he could breathe more of her florally Ivory soap scent. “You say that now, but you do realize I’ll have to spend some more time with them in order to weasel for more detailed information,” she cautioned. "You might not be so excited later." “I can tolerate a few hours of the Princes if it will get Charlotte out of my hair permanently. Besides, once we’re in residence in Los Angeles, we’ll likely never see them again. It's my rotten luck that they were in California at all,” he grumbled. He moved up in the line with Evelyn, closer to Rupert’s teller window. “St. Louis. I can’t imagine what possessed her to go there.” “Is it that different than New Orleans? Both seem drastic cultural changes compared to either New York or Los Angeles,” Evelyn commented. “I don
World of Tomorrow 82: Solutions
“I’m so relieved the drawing room suites are in a different car from the connecting bedroom suites,” Evelyn sighed as Andrew tipped the car’s valet and closed the door behind the man. “The further we are from those two, the better.” Chuckling, he turned towards her, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “That might be the most venomous thing I’ve ever heard you say, darling.” He folded the jacket and laid it over the back of a chair neatly. “I’m proud of you.” “Well, I’m not.” Removing her own jacket, she laid it over Andrew’s, then slipped her feet out of her shoes. “I can’t believe those two. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so crude. Even the Hollywood crowds everyone is constantly complaining about aren't as careless about what they say as the Princes. All the insults and snide comments." Her face screwed up into an angry pinch. "And that lecherous staring and pawing. By both of them!I can’t believe they’re accepted in even the basest social circles.” He took a
World of Tomorrow 83: Insults and Injuries
Emerging from their bedroom suite, Evelyn watched as Andrew peeled a generous number of bills off his money clip and handed them to someone just outside the door. “Thank you.” He nodded briefly, then closed their suite door. “Darling,” he smiled, his eyes skimming her from head to toe approvingly as he reached for her waist, “I didn’t hear you come out. Our valet tells me the Princes were involved in a drunken card game until the wee hours with the resident helpful celebrity, Mr. Laurel. Neither have emerged from their suite yet today. Given the amount of alcohol consumed, he’s of the opinion we may not see them until they disembark tomorrow.” Evelyn chuckled, staring up into his handsome face and finding herself getting lost in his eyes, mostly green today with only slight hints of blue. “It’s almost orphic how well you predicted that.” “’Orphic,’ is it?” He grinned broadly at her choice of adjective, greatly appreciating the subtle wit, though he had to adm
World of Tomorrow 84: Retribution
Andrew stared down at Evelyn’s tear-streaked face, his temper rapidly reaching flashpoint. The mark across her cheek was even more prominent closer to the faint light from the overhead lamps. He was sick of men taking advantage of her delicate size. Infuriated that they’d think they ever had the reason or right to strike a woman. More than anything, he was enraged that the woman impacted was the one to which he’d laid his claim. Her slender fingers curled daintily over his harm, pulling gently but insistently. “Mr. Laurel helped me. He pulled Daniel off me. Please, Andrew. Let him go. He’s not responsible for this.” Immediately, his hands relaxed. “Mr. Laurel,” he stepped backwards a pace, drawing Evelyn with him, “my apologies.” Straightening his rumpled clothes as best he could, the actor nodded. “It was an easy misconception. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, at least for the part you witnessed.” He eyeballed Daniel Prince’s limp figure u
World of Tomorrow 85: Deliberation
Andrew wondered if Evelyn suspected anything that had happened, particularly when the train put into the station in Chicago and the Princes disembarked onto the platform. If she did, to her credit, she said nothing. He couldn’t imagine her approving of such vigilante punishment, even on her own behalf, had he told her directly. But he liked to imagine the cold mist in her eyes and the upward tick of one graceful brow was brought on by satisfaction at seeing Daniel Prince trailing along behind his wife and their luggage with a clearly pained gait. Not that it mattered. He’d do it again in an instant if it insured her safety. Like his intuition about the mood of the market, Andrew’s instinct about the foolish and disrespectful Daniel’s mood was crystal clear too. Undoubtedly, they’d encounter the Princes again somewhere in society. Whether Evelyn was officially his wife or not, regardless of her upbringing, she’d be treated with all the respect due her. “Shall we see if there’s a chai
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
