Page 53 of The Gilded Heiress

Leo

The Birdman office was crowded, with six men crammed in to see Melvin. Miss Bryce ignored them all as she typed away on her

machine behind the desk. I removed my hat and greeted her warmly. “Good afternoon, Miss Bryce.”

Her eyes flicked over to me and she paused midstrike. “Well, hello, Mr. Hardy. Surprised to see you here, considering you

lost your only client.”

I flashed Miss Bryce a smile. “I hoped to see Melvin today, if he’s available. I know I don’t have an appointment.”

“I bet he wants to see you, too. Hold on.” Reaching over, she picked up the handset on her desk and flicked a switch. “Mr.

Birdman, Mr. Hardy is here to see you.”

A deep voice boomed from the inner office, “Send him in!”

Miss Bryce hung up and gestured to the closed door. “Go right in.”

“Thank you. Appreciate it.”

As I turned the knob, the men in the waiting room began complaining to Miss Bryce, outraged that I’d been let through first.

“That’s enough!” she snapped. “Pipe down, all of you, or you’re out on the street.”

Melvin was alone in the office, behind his desk with a large packet of papers in his hands. He dropped the papers onto the

desk when I shut the door behind me. “You were holding out on me, Hardy.”

There was no use in pretending I didn’t know what he meant. “I had no idea, sir. I noticed a resemblance when I first met her, but I never thought she was actually the kidnapped heiress.”

“Noticed a resemblance to who?”

“The mother. I practically grew up on the Pendelton estate.”

“Now I have even more questions.” He pointed at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down and fill me in.”

I dropped into the seat and told him everything, from my father’s long history with the Pendeltons, to seeing Josie on the

street and convincing her to come to New York. I didn’t try to polish it up for Melvin. I gave him the plain truth, even though

I wasn’t proud of it.

“This sales background you spoke of...”

“An elaboration.”

“A confidence man from the sound of it. You were planning to pass this girl off as a lost heiress, but it turns out she truly

was the lost heiress.”

“Yes.”

Melvin slapped the desktop with his palm and burst out laughing. “Son, that is the plot of a dramatic play if I’ve ever heard

one.”

“It seems fantastic, I realize, but it’s true.”

“How does the singing career figure into all this?”

“It was Josie’s dream, and I figured it was an easy way get her in front of the Pendeltons.”

“Smart.” Melvin rocked back in his chair, the wood and metal squeaking. “But you said you gave up?”

“I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Fell in love with her, did you?”

I didn’t answer. There was no point. “A friend of mine took matters into his own hands. He approached Mrs. Pendelton and arranged

a meeting without my knowledge.”

“Ah. I bet Josie wasn’t happy about that.”

“No, she wasn’t. She’s convinced I had something to do with it.” I rubbed the back of my neck, wishing the ache in my chest would dissipate. “You should know that she terminated our partnership.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. You know, I could sell out every theater on the East Coast with her name. I plan to speak with her

after the press meeting tomorrow.”

“Press meeting?”

“You haven’t heard?” When I shook my head, he elaborated. “Park Row is salivating over the girl. The family’s agreed to one

more interview, how she’s settling in and the like.”

It was to be expected, but I wondered if Josie was nervous. I remembered how she’d paled right before meeting Lotta, not to

mention her trepidation in coming to see Melvin. Would someone hold her hand and tell her to breathe?

Probably, but it won’t be me.

“No, I hadn’t heard.” I needed to get to the point. The sooner I left New York, the better. “I’m here about a different matter.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“I want to work for you.” Melvin blinked twice, so I rushed to explain. “I respect and understand what you do. I’m good with

people. I can read their faces and say what they need to hear.”

“I thought you wished to manage singers.”

Yes, well... that didn’t pan out as I’d hoped. “I think producing might be a better fit.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the puppet master, pulling the strings. You oversee the whole operation.”

Melvin puffed up a bit at that. “It’s not easy. I’m part lawyer, part mother hen, part carnival barker.”

“Not to mention part confidence artist.”

“A bit of that as well,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s a juggling act, kid.”

“I’ve been juggling my five sisters for years. I understand it. And I’ve been surviving on my wits for a long time, sir.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Melvin rocked in his chair and pursed his lips. “I’ve never had an assistant. But you might be able to

take some of that”—he pointed to the anteroom—“off my plate. Which would allow me to focus on more important matters.”

“Exactly. Except there is one caveat.”

“See? I knew it was too good to be true. What are you fixing to ask for? A hundred dollars a week?”

“After I’ve proven myself, I want to return to Boston. Open an office there.”

“I like the sound of it. Birdman Theatrical Productions, New York and Boston.”

“Or Birdman-Hardy Theatrical Productions.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid.” He leaned forward and pointed at me. “You’ve got chutzpah. Know what that means?”

“No, sir. Is it bad?”

“It’s Yiddish for guts. I like that you thought this up and came to me.” He narrowed his eyes, examining me for a long moment.

Determined not to show weakness, I held his gaze.

Finally, Melvin said, “Let’s see how you do in a meeting.”

“A meeting? As in one of your meetings?”

“Of course. Who else is taking meetings here today?” He lifted the handset of the phone on his desk and threw a switch. “Miss

Bryce, send one of my appointments in. No, he’s staying here. Don’t worry. No, it doesn’t matter which one.”

The door opened and a man introduced himself as Mr. David Easton. I sized him up quickly. Thinning hair, weak chin. Terrible

sartorial sense, if his mismatched colors were anything to go by. Either he was unmarried or had a wife disinterested in her

husband’s appearance.

We shook hands, though Melvin didn’t say anything about me other than my name.

“Sit down, David, and tell me why you’re here.”

Easton cast a curious look my way, then focused on Melvin. “I know we settled on the amount for the chorus, but it isn’t enough. I need more money to hire the right number of girls.”

“David, when you were last here, I told you there was no more money—and I meant it. I’ve given you all I mean to invest.”

“But you don’t understand, Mr. Birdman. These girls, they come at a higher price nowadays. It used to be that we could pay

them next to nothing and they’d be grateful for the work. Now we have the factories and department stores to compete with,

not to mention the higher-end bordellos.”

Melvin appeared to consider it. “How much more do you need?”

“Fifty dollars should cover it.”

I couldn’t help it—I snorted. It was an outrageous sum.

“Something to say, Mr. Hardy?” Melvin asked.

I cleared my throat. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Birdman. Ignore me.”

“Actually, I’d like to hear what you’re thinking.”

No way to avoid it now. If it meant he didn’t hire me, so be it.

“Fifty dollars is a staggering amount of money,” I said. “One could hire a hundred chorus girls for that amount. Which makes

me wonder if the money truly is for chorus girls. Because I see the lip stain on Mr. Easton’s collar and the way his necktie

clashes with the color of his vest. No wife would approve of such a choice, unless she’s given up on the marriage. Instead,

I suspect the money is to keep a woman happy. A mistress, most likely.”

Melvin pursed his lips. “Well, David. Is this an attempt to use the show’s coffers to support a ladybird?”

“Th-That is an absurd accusation!” After shooting daggers at me with his eyes, Easton shifted in his chair. “We have been

friends for sixteen years, Melvin. I don’t even know this man and you are listening to him over me?”

“I’m awaiting an explanation,” Melvin said calmly. “What is the money for, David?”

“I told you the money is for more chorus girls.”

“Then I must say no. Make do with what you have.”

After a few minutes of arguing, Easton left in a huff with empty pockets. Conversely, Melvin appeared quite pleased with me.

He pointed a finger in my direction. “That was clever.”

“Does this mean I’m hired?”

“No, not yet. I want to see her first.”

“Who? Josie?”

“Yes. I want to see if she’s willing to travel the country.” He mimed his hand in the air, as if viewing a marquee. “The Lost

Pendelton Heiress. With her voice and that billing we’ll sell out shows from Poughkeepsie to Albuquerque.”

“Then cable her. Ask her to come to the office.”

“I have. Repeatedly. I’ve also paid a call at the family home, but they wouldn’t admit me.”

“There’s your answer, then.”

Melvin’s expression turned shrewd as he studied me. “I have faith in you, kid. Get her here and I’ll give you a shot.”

I never even considered it.

I used Josie once. I wouldn’t do that to her ever again. She deserved only the truth from now on.

“I won’t use her like that.”

Melvin tilted his head, surprise etched in his features. “Then I have to assume you don’t truly want the job.”

“I guess I don’t.” Slipping my derby on my head, I stood and shook Melvin’s hand. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Your newly found principles mean that much to you?”

No, Josie meant that much to me. She’d been through enough. She didn’t need me in her life, mucking it up with more lies. “I suppose

so.”

“Then I wish you luck, kid.”

Defeated, I left Melvin’s office. I’d need to figure something else out.

Boston

It turned out having principles didn’t pay very well.

Since returning home six days ago I hadn’t been able to find decent employment. Oh, I could find any number of illicit earnings,

but honest work was proving difficult for a man like me. A person with no legitimate experience to speak of, no former employers

to vouch on my behalf.