Los Angeles, California - November 28th, 1926
James Patrick March dressed himself in his room at the Hotel Cortez. Top hat and all he was ready to be married - again. Elizabeth, is new bride wasn't aware of his previous nuptials. James opened the pocket watch his first love had given him. Inside was a photograph of the young woman, she looked marvellous, and sophisticated, like a treasured piece of Art.
"She'll never be her, you know." said Ms. Evers, his laundress.
"I don't recall asking for your opinion Ms. Evers. Besides, it's not like you were ever fond of Amelia."James retorted. His heart skipped a beat when he said her name. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke it out loud.
Ms. Evers frowned and exited the room. If only he could understand that she was trying to protect him from another heartbreak. She passed Elizabeth in the lobby, looking as radiant as ever. Mr. March certainly had a type and it was blonde and beautiful.
The ceremony was private; just the groom, his bride and the officiant. Ms. Evers listened in from the balcony.
"Do you, James Patrick March, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The officiant questioned.
"Yes, I do." James answered. Ms. Evers could hear the dedication in his voice. Unlike the bride, her vows were empty. However they were said, and that made James March a legally married man, and Hazel Evers feared he would never need her again.
Manhattan, New York - October 16th, 1922
It was a cool October morning, on the balcony of a 5th Avenue penthouse the daughter of a wealthy business man looked down at the only world she'd ever known. The sky was grey and the autumn leaves had already changed leaving the treetops of Central Park vibrant warm tones of yellow and orange. A single rain drop fell on her nose, bringing her out of her daze.
"Miss Rothesay, you really should return inside.' The maid advised from the balcony door. She had been trying to get the young woman's attention for awhile now. 'Your mother would be ever so disappointed if you caught a cold before her big event.'
"I'll just be a moment Helen, I promise." Amelia replied. The big event that the maid spoke of was Amelia's 20th birthday, which doubled as a meet and great for the most eligible bachelors in town. There was nothing Mrs. Rothesay wanted more than to see her daughter married off to someone of the right family. There were requirements for Amelia's hand; He must be a gentleman of old money and high society. These were her father's rules, and Mr. Rothesay was the one stamping the seal of approval - for his future son-in-law would inherit the family business 'Rothesay Diamonds and Jewelers Co.'
A tradition usually passed down to the eldest son, but unfortunately Amelia's only brother had fallen victim to the Spanish flu three years ago and died at the age of nineteen. Amelia was quite close to her brother Charles, and sometimes she swore she could still hear him walking the halls, or catch the scent of his cologne in the sitting room. When she was really lonely she would sneak into the studio where Charles painted, and examine his unfinished work.
"Amelia! Get in here now!' Mrs. Rothesay yelled. Amelia obeyed her mother's command and returned inside. Her mother wasn't the tame woman she pretended to be when guests were around, she could be fierce and temperamental. 'How could you be so careless, standing in the rain barefoot?" She snapped.
"My apologies, mother."
"Helen is fetching you some dry them on and join us for the soiree." Mrs. Rothesay ordered before walking away. From behind it would be easy to mistake Amelia's mother for her, they were both blonde with small waist and hips the danced side to side as they walked .
Amelia went to her room where she met Helen, who look nothing like the Rothesay women. The maid was only a few years younger than Amelia's mother but she looked otherwise. Her brown hair was graying at the roots, and her face was full of lines and wrinkles, but she was a kind woman who had always treated Amelia and Charles as if they were her own children.
"Are you ready Miss?" Helen asked as she brushed Amelia's damp hair.
"Is anyone ever ready to be forced into marriage, Helen?"
"Oh, I do recall a time when you couldn't wait to be a bride Miss Rothesay.'
"Please don't." Amelia interrupted.
"Forgive me, Miss." Helen stepped back and pulled a dress out from the closet. It was a long blue satin gown, paired with a white lace shawl to wear over her shoulders. It fit the young blonde perfectly, as it should, the dress was made specifically for her. Amelia held her hair out of the way as Helen secured a diamond necklace around her neck. She stepped into her Italian made heels and Helen touched up the powder on her face. Just a little dash of rouge so the men would think they made her blush.
There was a knock at the bedroom door. Mr. Rothesay presented himself. "My dearest daughter I must say I'm glad you've inherited your mothers looks."
"Don't be so modest, Papa, you're a handsome man."
"Yes, but I would look very silly in a dress." He smirk. Amelia always admired her fathers since of humour, not very many man of his position still had one.
"You're free to go Helen,' He said. 'I'll be the one escorting Amelia into the ball room."
"Of course, sir." Helen nodded.
The last time Amelia had seen so many people in her home was her brothers funeral, of course, the atmosphere this time was much different. A pianist the Mr. Rothesay had hired played lounge music on the grand piano by the window, while most of the guest congregated in the center of the room.
" Mr. Belmont, Mr. Greyson." Amelia's father greeted two men in boring suits. She tried to hide her disinterest, these men just weren't her type.
"Amelia!' It was so good to hear the voice of someone who could save her.
"Eleanor, it's been too long.' She greeted her hero with an air kiss. Eleanor was a childhood friend. Her family had moved to the Upper West Side after her mother got offered a role in a silent film, and decided to pursuit a career in acting.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Miss Eddington.' Amelia's father spoke. 'You girls will have all night to catch up. We were just starting a conversation with Mr. Greyson, and Mr. Belmont."
"Sorry, Mr. Rothesay.' Eleanor gave her friends had a squeeze. 'Come find me when you're done." Amelia nodded.
"Mr. Greyson, I adore your suit, did you pick it out yourself?" Lying came naturally to Amelia, women of her class did it everyday to their friends, their staff, and even to themselves.
"I wish I gifted the eyes to put such a suit together." He laughed. Walter Greyson wasn't awful looking, he had thick black hair and piercing blue eyes. "The tailor picked it for me, dear."
"I, on the other hand, picked my own outfit.' Mr. Belmont chimed in with a smile that revealed his crooked and slightly stained teeth. David Belmont was in his mid thirties, a heavy smoker who was ironically heir to a tobacco company.
"Ah, but if a man can put together his own wardrobe than is he really in need of a wife?" A voice broke in from behind Amelia, and it was a voice she knew all too well.
"Nathaniel, don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?" Amelia said.
"You're right. I'm very sorry, Amelia." He replied.
"Well you seem to be handling things quite well on your own, dear. I'm going to find your mother. Excuse me." Amelia sighed, her father couldn't pick a worse time to leave. She had to find Eleanor.
"I don't mean to be rude.' Mr. Belmont spoke. 'Who is this young man?"
"My name is Nathaniel Montgomery - Scott, sir." Nathaniel extended his hand to both Walter and David.
"I don't recall sending the Montgomery - Scott's an invitation." Amelia sneered. She had just spotted Nathaniel's brother Nicholas.
"We were personally invited by .' Nathaniel told her. 'She said you'd be more than happy to see me - ahem - us again."
"I see this is a personal matter, excuse me." Mr. Greyson left the room, only a few seconds later so did Mr. Belmont.
"Dear Amelia, we do come baring heartbreaking news.' Nicholas joined in. 'I'm afraid that I'm already engaged to be married in the spring."
"That poor unfortunate woman. Pardon me, I have other guests to greet." Amelia turned quickly and pushed her way through the crowd. Nicholas Montgomery - Scott was everything Amelia had hated about Manhattan. He believed he was God's gift to women, though most who knew the family had a preference for his brother. Nicholas was also the biggest gossip Amelia had ever met in her life; worse than her mother's friends and that is saying alot. He had no boundaries either, even Nathaniel wasn't safe from his big mouth. That was another part of the reason why Amelia had to leave. She had to find Eleanor, so she ran to the only room she knew would people would stay clear of - the studio
'I've never been so pleased by silence.' Amelia thought to herself. She took a seat on a stool facing the last painting Charles was working on. It was very dark; perhaps a night scene, and Amelia could see where he started the outline of a man, or maybe a woman. Mrs. Rothesay refused to have anything from Charles' bedroom or studio removed, everything was as he last left it. Click. The sound of the door knob turned and Amelia hide behind an easel.
"Meli?" Eleanor whispered.
"Yes, I'm here."
"I thought I'd find you here.' Eleanor smiled, she knew how much Amelia idolized her sibling.
"My parents aren't brave enough to step into this room."
"It must be hard, dealing with Henry and Rose on your own."
"That's why I'm glad I have a friend like you." Amelia grinned.
"What made you finally decide to hide in here?"
"Nathaniel.' Amelia felt her throat tighten at the name. 'And his brother."
"They're here? After everything that happened?"
"Yes, I can't believe him!" Amelia cursed. Nathaniel was her first love. The first and only man she had kissed. The only person that could make her smile after her brother died, while Eleanor was at boarding school. He will also the first man to break her heart.
"Let's go out tonight!"Eleanor suggested. "Help get that jerk out of your mind."
"Have you lost your mind? Where would we go?" Amelia questioned her red haired friend.
"No questions. However we will have to do something about your look." Before Amelia could say anything Eleanor pulled a bright red lip stick out from her clutch and applied it to her friends lips. Then she took out a black compact and a small eye brush. "Don't move, not even a blink." Eleanor warned. She traced the powder around Amelia's light blue eyes.
"Ellie, please tell me what's going on." Amelia begged.
"Nope. We have got to get you into something more liberating. Do you have any shorter dresses?'
"None as short as yours." Amelia replied. Eleanor's dress stopped above the knee and was covered in black beads against a maroon material.
"I'm going to take a look in your closet."
New York City is no stranger to criminal activity, and if one was looking for a place to acquire unlawful liquor (among other things) then Chumley's speakeasy was the place to be. It was a busy Thursday night when James March walked in and took a table for himself and his two new friends. George Heidelberg and Stuart Richmond were both young entrepreneurs, however not as successful as whom at twenty-five had a net worth of over ten million.
"James, how did the meeting with Mr. Ashcroft go? asked George.
"I'm not certain that he liked me." James answered. Ashcroft was a local developer who Jame was hoping to buy some land from. It wasn't easy to purchase land in Manhattan, most of the plots had been owned by the same families for generations.
"I heard they don't take too kindly to self-made men 'round here.' Added Stuart with a southern draw. 'Bunch of entitled yankees born with silver spoons in their mouths - they're all the same."
"Don't listen to ol' southern Stu, James. Me and you we can really make a name for our selves here. And look,they sure do have some nice looking dames.' George said pointing to a glamorous blonde standing next to a girl with red hair.
James watched as the women walked closer to their table. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the blonde. She seemed confused, like she had entered the building by mistake. She tugged on the other girls arm. He knew what she was thinking, she wanted to leave, but he wasn't going to let that happen.
"Ellie, what is this place?" Amelia questioned. She had to raise her voice to speak over the brass band that was playing.
"Chumley's!' Eleanor exclaimed. 'Don't make it so obvious that we shouldn't be here. They'll think we're narks."
"Could I interest you ladies in a drink?" James asked the two girls once they passed the table.
"Certainly." Eleanor grinned. There was one empty chair at the table, so James offered his seat to Amelia.
"Alcohol?!" Amelia scolded under her breath.
"Shh!" Eleanor warned.
"Bartender, two martinis!' James called to the bar that was just a few feet away from them. "Take a seat darling, we won't bite.' Amelia smiled politely and took his offer. 'James Patrick March is the name." He extended his hand.
"Amelia Rothesay." Her well manicured hand gripped on to his. He brushed the top of her hand with his lips.
"Pleasure. These are my associates, George Heidelberg and Stuart Richmond." The men nodded their heads respectively.
"This is my friend Eleanor." Amelia motioned to the red head.
"Good to meet you Mr. March.' Eleanor beamed. 'Say what brings you fine gentlemen to the city?" A person from the bar staff dropped off the two martini glasses at the table.
"Business,' George answered. 'And what about you gals?"
Amelia picked up her glass by the stem and stared down at the liquor. At home she could drink wine, and champagne, but she wasn't stupid. She read the newspaper, she knew it was illegal. Eleanor had already sipped from her glass, and gave her friend the look that said she better too.
"It was Rothesay, right' George spoke to Amelia. 'Any connection to the diamond company?"
Amelia looked to Eleanor for help, they didn't know these men, was it safe to reveal her identity? She came here to get away from the attention and now the whole table had eyes on her. 'I -uh, pardon me." Amelia jolted from her chair and started walking in the other direction.
It seemed like every two steps Amelia took the sea of people would push her back one. Of course, nobody heard her delicate voice asking them to move, or maybe they did and couldn't care to. She felt extremely closed in, but perhaps it was the tight dress Eleanor had chosen for her. She couldn't walk very fast in the restricting material.
"Amelia!' She heard a voice call her name, it was James March. 'Please do forgive my friend, he didn't mean to intrude on your privacy he was simply curious."
"There you are!' Eleanor shouted, she came from the opposite direction. 'We can't leave now Meli, we've just arrived."
"I'll already be in so much trouble." Amelia protested.
"Exactly, so enjoy the rest of the night while you can."
"The lady has a point, Miss Rothesay. If this place is too overwhelming I know another club we can visit." James said. Eleanor gave her friend a hopeful look.
"Fine." Amelia sighed.
Amelia and Eleanor followed James out into the street, and got into the back of his new automobile; a Lancia Trikappa one of the most luxurious cars on the market. It wasn't a long ride to the new location, Amelia found it interesting that James drove himself. If he was a native of the Upper East Side he wouldn't be caught dead driving his own car.
James opened the back door and gave both girls and hand to help them step out. 'Ladies first." He said ushering them down a flight of stairs.
"This is a private event ladies." said a large man guarding the door.
"They're with me, James March." The door man stepped aside for them to walk in.
As soon as they entered Amelia noticed this place was much different than Chumley's. Instead of loud jazz music, a sultry band played lounge music, much like she would hear at home.
"Please excuse me for a moment, I need to have a word with a gentleman over there." James announced.'Pick any table you like."
"Let;s go over there!' Eleanor pointed to a table next to the bar.' It will inspire him to buy us more drinks, and you really need another one."
"Eleanor." Amelia rolled her eyes but went along with her friends suggestion.
"Splendid spot,' James said joining them. 'Now I have something that will make the night much more interesting." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, then poured the contents onto the table. Amelia and Eleanor exchanged looks after seeing the white powder. 'Now I would regret to assume that women of such status have ever dared to use cocaine."James continued.
"Of course not -'
"I have." Eleanor blurted.
"Excuse me?" Amelia looked at Eleanor.
"Last summer at the Vanderbilt wedding, after you left I was talking to Ricky Callahan, he gave me some." Eleanor explained.
"And you failed to inform me? I tell you everything, Ellie."
"No offence, Amelia, you're a prude." Eleanor confessed. Amelia frowned, yes her friends words stung but they were true, she was slowly turning int a carbon copy of her mother, that was her biggest fear.
"No need to pout, Amelia' James said, he had broke the pile of cocaine into three straight lines. "Here's your chance to change that." He offered her a small silver flute, she hesitated, but took it.
"I'm not sure what do to do." she said.
"Let me show you,' James chuckled. He took the flute back from her and lined it up with one of the rows, then brought his nasal down onto to piece of metal. Blocking one nostril with is finger he snorted until the line was gone. Then James reached into his front pocket for his handkerchief and wiped of the top of the instrument. Amelia tried again, this time copying Mr. March, and passed the flute on to Eleanor.
"How do you know if it works?" Amelia asked rubbing at her nose. It was extremely uncomfortable.
"You'll feel the high, any minute now." James assured her.
Amelia couldn't exactly remember what came next. She felt light headed and dizzy, but the normal type, it was more like the world was spinning around her and she was still.
"Eleanor?" Amelia called out. She was standing in the back of the lounge now, unsure of how or when she got there.
"Just take a seat, you'll be alright." Eleanor promised.
"I love this song." Amelia jumped up a suddenly as she had sat. A woman was singing on stage and she had one of the most beautiful voices Amelia had ever heard.
"Well then, may I have this dance?" James appeared in front of her.
"Yes!' Amelia smiled. James walked her to the dance floor, she could feel her heart beat as if it was in sync with the music, his hand wrapped around her waist, she placed hers on his shoulders.
The woman continued singing in the background:
'It's three o'clock in the morning
We're danced the whole night through
and daylight soon will be dawning
just one more waltz with you'
"Are you trained in dance, ?" Amelia asked.
"Only a few lessons." James admitted.
That melody so entrancing
seems to be made for us two
"Why did you really come to Manhattan?"
"Opportunity" He answered quickly.
'There goes the three o'clock chime
chiming, rhyming
my heart keeps beating in time
"Where are you from?" Amelia wondered
"A discussion better suited for another time, dear."
And daylight soon will be dawning
just one more waltz with you
Amelia studied the face of the man she was dancing with, she had no idea where Eleanor was, and had never spent so much time alone with a stranger, sure she knew his name was James Patrick March, but didn't know where he was from or how old he was, or his profession. The only way she could think to get any of that information was to speak about her self and maybe he'd answer some of those questions.
"It was my birthday today.' She told him.
"Is that so? Mine will be in two weeks." James replied.
"RAID!" multiple voicesshouted and people began to scatter.
"This way," James lead Amelia through the frantic crowd. She could her police whistles and caught a glimpse of people being arrested.
"There's noway out!' She cried. James guided her into a storage room. He pulled with the shelves until he found the right one that flew open revealing a crawl space.
"I don't mean to rush you, Amelia, but we don't have much time." James ushered.
Amelia crawled through the small openning which lead to a dark corridor. She stood up and adjusted her clothing, James crawled out behind her.
"Where are we, Mr. March?" Amelia asked
"Somewhere under the city, I suppose. Please, call me James, dear." He replied.
"Eleanor, where is she?"
"I'm not quite sure."
"We need to find her, I can't just leave her, I - I." Amelia felt her heart thump faster by the second. It was all too much, what if Eleanor was arrested, or worse kidnapped! They didn't belong here. She began to cry, first came tears, then the gasps as she sobbed.
"Don't cry, please.' James begged, he placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned burying her face into his chest. It wasn't something he expected, James was never a very affectionate man but for some reason he felt obligated to comfort her.
"I just want to go home." Amelia cried.
"Look at me.' James cradled her face so her eyes would meet his. 'It's going to be fine. Now you must promise me you'll be quiet, bootleggers use these tunnels and you and I only want to gues what else is hiding in these passages."
"I promise." Amelia nodded.