Phelps Hospital
Sleepy Hollow, NY
May 25th, 1964
Fluorescent light shone through the door window in the rehabilitation hospital room. Henry Francis was laying back in his bed, unable to sleep. He tilted his head slowly and looked at the clock on his bedside table; it was 6:58 AM. In two minutes, the lights would come on and the day would begin. First, breakfast at 7:15. Physical Therapist exercises after that to loosen up the joints and muscles. 7:45, shower. 8:00, Walk-training. Henry had great difficulty learning to walk again. He had made strides in the last few weeks however, and that made him hopeful.
Betty came almost every day to visit him, just before lunch. He had watched her go from senseless and confused, to leading the family troop in a short time. Her quick recovery infuriated Henry. James, Henry's son stopped by occasionally as well, which was a welcomed meeting. Neither of Betty's children did. "They are busy with school" Betty would say. Pauline, Henry's mother, came by once a month over the past five months. She would spend her time criticising him for his life decisions, deride his marriage, speak highly about herself, and then leave.
This day started like every other day. Henry was walking much quicker though, and for one of the first times, he walked completely unassisted. A great smile crossed his lips.
"Finally." He said to the nurse, a woman of about his age, named Joanna.
"Well done, Henry." She said. "You've been working hard."
"You've been working me hard." He replied.
At 10:45, Betty showed up in his room. He was sitting in a chair in the corner, reading the Times.
"You read about the shootings in Laos?" Henry opened.
"No, what's happening?" Betty asked.
"The boys are taking fire from Laos now, in the war. They shot down some recon planes. Bastards."
"I don't follow the war."
"You should." Henry said. "It's important to know what's happening for our nation."
"Alright." Betty smiled weakly.
"You look good today. The scars are healing well." Henry looked his wife up and down. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress, which was knee high. She had a broach pinned to her collar.
"I look terrible. The scar is disgusting and I can't use enough foundation to cover it up."
"Betty." Henry scoffed. "You can't expect everything to heal overnight. Look at me."
"It's not overnight. It's been months." She paused. "The nurse tells me you walked today. Unassisted."
"I did." He grinned. "I think I'll be coming home by the end of next week."
Betty's smile disappeared. "Next week?"
"Is there a problem?"
"Not at all." She finished. "I'm just shocked you're doing so well."
"It's taken a lot of hard work to get here. At first, I thought I'd never speak again. Or walk. Or do much of anything for that matter. Now I'm about to come home."
"We'll have a celebration." Betty perked up.
"That's not necessary—"
"Yes it is." Betty said. "It would be great to have everyone together."
"Alright." Henry conceded.
"I'll call James and Annette, and invite your mother as well."
"Leave my mother; she's been too busy to bother lately."
Betty sat down near Henry on the bed. Henry shuffled in his chair to face her.
"How are the kids?" He started. "Bobby enjoyed his time at the museum?"
"He did. I gave him $5 and he bought himself one of those wooden toy dinosaurs. He loves it."
"Good. How is Sally?"
"I don't really know." Betty began. "She's withdrawn. It's hard to get a word through to her. She's so cynical."
"She'll come around. She's ten years old. Ten year olds are like that; mine were. Once she's older she will grow out of it."
"Don says he gets the same from her."
"You've been talking to Don?" Henry said quickly.
"Well yes…" Betty looked to his eyes, then down to his shoes. "He picks up the kids from the house a lot."
"For what?"
"To drive them to school, to drive them around."
"Why is he driving them to school? Isn't he at work?"
"Well yes, but he goes in late so that he can drive the kids."
"When did this start?" Henry said.
"In March. I told you about this. I wasn't supposed to leave the house, how could I take them anywhere?" Betty said.
"Tell Nancy to drive them. What did we hire her for?"
"She's a maid and house nurse, Henry, she's not a chauffeur."
"Then hire a chauffeur. Don doesn't need to be around unless he has to be around."
"He is their father." Betty's tone darkened. "Despite the terrible things that have happened, he has stepped up to help us."
"We don't need his help." Henry stood, steadying himself. "Fire Nancy, and go get someone who is willing to drive."
"I'm not going to fire Nancy. She's been perfectly helpful for almost five months now. The kids like her. Sally actually talks with her."
"I'm coming home early. I can have them discharge me Tuesday."
"Henry, you're being silly."
"I am not!" He shouted. "We do not need help. We can handle our own affairs."
Betty recoiled at the blast. She stayed silent. Her husband loomed over her.
"I'm sorry." He backed down. "I just, don't want him around. He's not a good father, and he's not a good influence."
"He may be many things. But he loves his children." Betty said. "Just because he doesn't show it in the same way that you did—"
"Or show it at all. Now he steps in to help, the white knight saving the day."
"Enough." Betty spat.
"Now you're defending him." Henry said.
She stood silently.
"I get knocked down for two minutes and he comes in like a vulture." Henry continued.
"Stop." She said. "You're being irrational."
"I'm sorry." He said. "It's my fault."
"What?" Betty winced. "How is this your fault?"
"If I hadn't driven us off the road, this wouldn't have happened. They found whiskey in the car, I don't remember drinking. They told me it soaked your purse."
"We've been through this. You never day drink. Ever. You don't know that's what happened. None of us do. And I think it's a blessing. None of us carries the blame."
"I can hardly remember that week." Henry confessed. "Maybe I was drunk… I don't know."
"It doesn't matter, Henry." She kneeled down, holding her husbands hand. "All that matters is that you're getting better; we're all getting better. Even if I look like Scarface, I'll live."
"I think it makes you look mysterious and striking." Henry said. Betty leaned down and kissed him.
"Thank you." She stood up. "I'll be back tomorrow. Take the time you need, I'll start planning your homecoming."
"I love you." He said.
"Love you too." Betty responded, closing the door of his room.
Sally Draper was sitting in her room, listening to a Patsy Cline 45. She watched it spin around on the machine and hummed along to the tune. She had just gotten home from a playdate with a friend, Nancy had made a snack for them, and Bobby was busy playing with his dinosaurs. There was a sudden knock at the door.
"Bobby, I don't want to be the T-Rex in your game, I already told you."
The door swung open.
"Oh." Sally said. "Hi, Mom."
"Hello Sally." Betty said, entering the room.
"How's Henry?" She asked.
"He's much better." Her mother beamed. "He'll probably be home by the end of next week."
"Really?"
"Yes. Could you turn down the record player please?"
Sally reached over and turned it off.
"I thought Henry was barely standing."
"He's walking now, by himself." Betty said.
"That's good." Sally said.
"Yes."
Silence.
"Do you need anything?" Sally asked.
"No I just wanted to come see you. You've been quiet lately."
"Are you and Dad getting back together?"
"What?" Betty's gaze snapped to her daughter. "Where is this coming from?"
"You both seem happy with each other. You're happy to see each other."
Betty sat in thought.
"No, your father and I are not getting back together."
"You get excited to see him."
"I do not." Betty's face flushed.
"Then why is he coming over late at night for secret meetings?"
"What?" Betty's face was now fully red. Her scar became a deep purple.
"The other night. I saw you and dad talking in your room."
"You were spying on me?" Betty stood up angrily.
"No, you screamed and I went to make sure you were okay!" Sally stood up beside her mother.
"Sally Draper." Her mother started. "You are never to spy on people. It's extremely rude and invasive. If you must know, your father came over to discuss… us moving out of the house."
"Oh great. We're moving." Sally plunked back down to the floor.
"Well, we can't keep living here forever. This house is owned by your father. We need to find a place of our own."
"Then just give the house back to Dad, and Dad can live here."
"We need to find a home for ourselves first." Betty said. "Then Don can do whatever he wants with the house."
"You and Henry can just find a house while we live with Dad, here."
"That's not our custody agreement, Sally."
"Whatever. It should be. Henry is stealing from Dad."
"Your father has allowed us to live here until we find somewhere to buy. Despite what you think, life isn't as simple as, 'Do this, Do that.'"
"Henry thinks so. I heard him on the phone with somebody and he was saying he was 'Glad that chump was paying our way'."
"What did I just saying about spying on people?"
"He was talking on the phone in the kitchen, Mom!" Sally yelled. "Why do you always think the worst of me?"
"That was silly of him to say, and I do not think the worst of you." She hesitated. "You have to watch the words you say to other people. You talk without thinking."
"I'm sorry I ask the questions no one asks."
"You're going to get yourself into a heap of trouble one day. Don't tell Henry about your father and I talking. He already has enough on his plate."
"Okay." Sally said.
Betty motioned for her daughter to take a seat beside her on the bed.
"Henry blames himself for the accident, for hurting us. He gets really angry about… a lot of things lately."
Sally looked down to her feet and said nothing.
"He's going to come home soon, and I hope you'll be kind to him." Betty said.
"Okay, Mom."
Betty stood up and walked out the door.
"Supper will be at 5:30."
The door closed.
Sally slumped down onto the ground, and moved over to her record player. She flicked the dial and the music came back on again. She thought back to the fateful day in January when her life changed. She remembered yelling at Henry. She remembered the car careening off the road and flipping, and she remembered the old man who came to save them. Sally bounced back faster than her mother or Henry did. Her jaw was healed and she was back in school within a month. Henry was stuck in a rehabilitation hospital. Her mother's face was scared. A new song came on the machine.
"Two… cigarettes… in an ashtray"
Kaye awoke to the shrill metallic clacking of the telephone on her desk. Her head was face down in between her arms and she had fallen asleep. Another Monday morning was rolling by. She picked up the receiver.
"Yeah?"
"Ms. Sharpe, I have an Officer Hendrickson on the line. He wants to speak with you."
"Put him through, Donna."
There was a short pause before the line reconnected.
"Hello?" Kaye started.
"Thanks for returning my car." John said.
"It was the least I could do." Kaye leaned back in her chair.
"When did you drop it off?"
"Had a cab meet me at your apartment. Went home from there."
"Can we have a redo?" John changed direction quickly. "I think I owe you an apology."
"For what?" Kaye asked.
"For being obliterated on a first date. I honestly don't even remember getting home. Was I good?"
"Good at what?"
"You know." He laughed.
"I'm wouldn't know." Kaye said.
"Oh." He trailed off. "I'm guessing it went worse than I thought."
"The food was good." She leaned back in her chair.
"At least my culinary decisions are redeemable. Can I take you out again, this weekend?"
"I'll drive." Kaye said.
"Fine by me. I have more than Italian food in my repertoire."
"Saturday night, then." She assumed.
"Come by at 6:00?"
"See you then."
She hung up the receiver, and stood up from her chair to stretch. Walking over to the hutch, she poured herself some Canadian Club and walked out of her office. The hallway was loud. Making her way to the Creative Room, she sat down opposite Joey and Peggy who were spit balling.
"Kaye, what do you think of this for Tipalet," Joey began. "Tobacco too fine to filter."
"They're filtered." Kaye said, sipping the whiskey. "You should be working on Gibson."
"Couldn't think if anything. Got bored and switched teams."
"Didn't Joan bring in the files on Muriel?" Kaye snapped her fingers and pointed at Joey. He hesitated in confusion, then understood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Lucky Strike, throwing it to Kaye. She grabbed the large crystal lighter on the shelf and lit the cigarette.
"Yes," Peggy said. "They're on the bookshelf."
"Then read them." Kaye smoked, grabbing the files and throwing them onto the table.
"There's not much to go on, honestly." Joey said. "They started just after the Great War, making cigars; they called them Senators. Those old stogie types. They did an ad with Edie Adams last year and it did well enough that they are expanding their line."
"That's all?" Kaye rubbed her forehead with her thumb, her index and middle finger holding the cigarette.
"Well, there's more but it's useless." Peggy said.
"Who's their man that's coming to see us?"
"Kirk Lorrie." Peggy said. "Mid-forties, married, three kids."
"Is he a perv?" Kaye said.
"What?"
"Is he a pervert?"
"Well how would I know that?" Peggy said.
"I don't know that's why I'm asking. I want to know if he's a pervert."
"So that we can do pervy shit?" Stan Rizzo said, walking into the Creative Room with a cigarillo hanging from his mouth. Kaye stood up, walked over to Stan and swapped her cigarette for his cigarillo. The side of the cigarillo read "Tipalet Grape-y." She inhaled. It was very mild, and tasted almost like a cough syrup.
"Too fruity." Kaye said, switching back their smokes.
"I like it." Stan said. "It's like a little straw full of fruit and cancer."
"Joey, go get Pete." Kaye said.
"Why me?"
"Because I said so."
"Pete!" Joey yelled. There was no response. He sulked, leaving the room and brought back Pete Campbell.
"What is it, I'm busy." Pete said.
"Is Kirk Lorrie a pervert?" Kaye said.
"What?"
"Just answer the question." Stan spoke up.
"I mean, I don't know. Lee Garner Jr. knows him. I'll call him discreetly." Pete left the office.
"We'll take them for a night out." Kaye said, waiting for Pete to return. "To some swanky uptown gentleman's club. Show them a good time. We'll see how far we can press the envelope. Get him drunk, see what he talks about for business."
"That's pretty underhanded." Peggy said.
"It's what it takes." Kaye replied. "What would you do to stay at the table and play the game?"
"All in favour?" Stan raised his hand followed by Joey.
Peggy scoffed. "You know, not everyone in this business is depraved."
"Let it go Peggs, we're getting a night out on the boss. This is a win." Stan said.
Pete walked back into the room. "Garner says that Lorrie is favourably inclined towards what we're suggesting. I quote, "he likes young girls."
"So Kaye and Joan are coming along." Joey said.
"Who else is good looking?" Stan said.
"Stan." Peggy scoffed angrily.
"Oh come on Peggy, it's a given you're coming."
"Three girls are enough." Kaye said. "The men should outnumber us. There'll be enough girls there."
"Joan could you come in here?" Stan banged on the adjoining wall.
Joan rounded the corner a moment later.
"You know, you can knock on my door politely?" She started.
"We're planning a night out." Peggy said. "We need to be whores."
"I never said that." Stan said. "Although I wouldn't complain."
"This is for Muriel Cigars?" Joan asked.
"Kirk's a perv." Kaye said, smoking. "We'll go out Friday night. Somewhere like The 22 Club."
"How do we get in there on a Friday night?" Joey asked.
Stan said nothing but pointed at Kaye and Joan with his cigar in hand.
"Buy new dresses. We'll bring Roger along." Pete said. "Expense it to us. I'll call Muriel and let them know." He left the Creative Room.
"We'll go shopping after work." Joan said to Kaye.
"Excuse me, Ms. Sharpe. You have a guest waiting in reception." A secretary announced as she walked into the room.
"Come see me after you're done." Joan touched Kaye's shoulder and then walked away.
Kaye left the Creative Room and followed the secretary as she led her to the big double entrance doors.
There, sitting in one of the chairs in the foyer, was Elena.
"Kaye." She said, smiling and standing up. Kaye recoiled in horror.
"Elena…" She exhaled. Before Kaye had time to think, she was being hugged by her sister. Elena gripped her tightly, kissing her cheek.
"It's so good to see you. We got Father's car. And the money. Thank you."
Kaye grabbed Elena by the hand, and dragged her into the office egress. The large door swung closed behind them. She pulled Elena from sight into her own office.
"Wow. It's big in here."
"How did you find me?" Kaye said. She walked over to the hutch and poured herself whiskey. She tilted the bottle up, offering some to Elena. The elder sister shook her head.
"What do you mean?"
"How did you find me here, in the city?"
"You sent me the letter, do you not remember? In January." Elena sat down on one of the two chairs on the opposing side of Kaye's desk. Kaye stood, drinking and trying to remember.
The letter when they were at the Pierre. It ended up in the garbage. It felt like an eternity ago.
"I remember." Kaye downed the rest of the drink. "Do you still have the letter?"
"I suppose." Elena reached down into her purse, perusing around in its depths. Kaye had a moment to analyse her sister. Elena was five years her senior. Her father and mother were not planning on have another child, but Kaye came along none-the-less. Elena had taken care of Kaye after her father had taken his life and her mother had taken ill. She was always watching out for Kaye. Elena looked well. Her hair was a much deeper auburn than Kaye's, taking after their father. She was beautiful to look at, although received criticism that her younger sister was more striking.
"Here." She passed Kaye the letter. It was handwritten, and clearly not in Kaye's handwriting. In brief, it detailed that Kaye wanted to see her sister in May when they were coming to visit.
"So you're passing through with Hugh?" Kaye said.
"I suppose. We were hoping to stay with you for a few days…" She trailed off.
"Oh…"
"I can see it's an inconvenience. We can find a hotel; I just assumed you had the place to stay. My fault."
"I do have the space. I just… hadn't thought about it." Kaye said. "You can stay." She tore a piece of paper and penned her address onto it. "I have a car stall around back. I use the front."
"Alright. Thank you. It's good to see you."
Kaye tilted her glass in agreement as she drank.
"You're still drinking I see." Elena said.
"I don't have time for a lecture."
"I'm not lecturing. Just noticing." She stood up. "I'm sorry for intruding at work."
"I won't be home until late." Kaye said. "Don't wait up for me." She threw her sister one of her house keys. Elena nodded and made her way to the door. Kaye followed her out.
"Who was that?" Don said, watching Kaye escort Elena through the lobby doors.
"Doesn't matter. Did Pete tell you we're going out?"
"Muriel Cigars on Friday night." Don lit a cigarette. "You have something for them?"
"That's why we're going."
"What's your plan?"
"Figure out what makes these boys tick."
Don said nothing and smoked.
"Peggy, Joan, and I will be your escorts." Kaye drank from her glass.
"Friday night then." Don said, walking away. Kaye turned and moved towards the Creative Room searching for Peggy. Joey informed Kaye that Peggy had gone back to ehr own office. After detouring, she opened Peggy's door and closed it quickly.
"Don seems skeptical ab—" Peggy began.
"I smoothed it over. Did you go through my mail?"
"What?"
"Did you go through my mail."
"What mail? I don't know what you're talking about."
"A letter. From my sister. Months ago. I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you go through my mail."
Peggy sat silently, unsure of what to say. A long moment passed.
Kaye threw her whiskey glass as hard as she could at the wall. It exploded into a thousand shards that came down all over Peggy's office. Peggy winced as many of them landed on her and around her desk.
"Are you crazy!" Peggy raised her voice.
Kaye pointed her finger, her rings glinting in the sun coming through the window.
"You're lying. Don't you ever lie to me."
"What in God's name is going on here?" Lane Pryce had swung the door open.
"She's an insubordinate asshole." Kaye barked.
"Ms. Sharpe." Lane said angrily. "Mind your tongue. This is a place of business." He closed the door behind him. "Ms. Olson, explain what occurred."
"Kaye says I wrote this letter to her sister. She has no proof and comes in here to accuse me."
"Ms. Sharpe, do you have proof of this?"
Kaye said nothing.
"You cannot make wild accusations like this, unfounded. It's completely unprofessional." Lane said.
"It is founded. She's the only one with motive and opportunity. She hates me." Kaye said.
"Why do you care so much anyway?" Peggy asked. "She's just your sister."
Silence came over the dispute. Lane looked with a raised brow at Peggy.
"Ms. Olson, there is no proof that this has been done by your pen. However if it was you, this is an egregious act. To meddle in someone's personal correspondence is not only illegal but, reprehensible. To then respond to that correspondence is absurd. Ms. Sharpe…" Lane turned his gaze. "Control your outbursts. You often let your anger rule you. If you must remove yourself from the situation, do it. We have clients walking around, and I remind you both this is a place of business. Save personal disputes for personal time."
Lane turned from the women, snapped open the door and marched back to his office. Peggy sat in silence waiting for Kaye to respond. The cigarette Kaye was smoking was now almost gone.
"You're off the Tipalet pitch. You can come Friday night." She began.
"You're just being spiteful." Peggy said.
"You're right." She smoked, turning to the door.
"You're taking this way too personally."
"You made it fucking personal when you got involved in my personal affairs." Kaye stammered. Her face flushed red and rage filled her eyes. She stood, looming over Peggy. She waited and Peggy didn't reply. Kaye took the end of her cigarette and butted it onto Peggy's paperwork. It quickly burnt a hole through them. She turned, leaving Peggy's office and walking back towards her own.
Peggy sprung up, marched into the hall, and glared as Kaye headed down the corridor. She turned and walked towards Don's office.
"Is he in?" Peggy asked without stopping. Allison didn't have time to reply before Peggy had entered the corner office. Roger and Don were sitting on the sofa's talking.
"Do you believe any of this 'Great Society' shit from Johnson?" Roger asked Don.
"I don't follow politics."
"Wise man. All I know is that it's going to cost us a lot of money."
Both men turned to face Peggy.
"What?" Don said.
"Can I speak to you?" She asked. No one moved. "Alone?"
"I think she likes me." Roger downed the rest of his scotch and slid the glass onto the coffee table. He grabbed his hat, nodded at them, and departed from the office. Don stood up and walked behind his desk.
"So…?"
"I think I make an important contribution to this team…"
"If this is about a raise, no one's getting one for a while."
"No, I just want to be useful. I feel like Kaye is… stonewalling me."
"So?" Don sat down, pouring himself a small glass of whiskey.
"Well I have a lot to contribute. Especially about the Tipalet pitch. But she doesn't… like me. So she's not letting me sit in on the pitch."
"Bury it Peggy." Don drank.
"What?"
"People aren't going to like you. Be worth more to this team than how much people like you."
"Well I can't do that if I can't show them."
"Convince them."
"How?"
"That's your job."
"Ugh." She scoffed. Peggy turned and walked out of Don's door, closing it loudly.
Friday, May 29th, 1964
The 22 Club, New York City, New York
After work on Monday, Joan and Kaye went shopping. They stopped at Bonwit Teller and purchased two entire outfits for Friday, with necklaces, bangles and bright earrings to match. Kaye was wearing a cream coloured dress. It had a square-edged low cut bust. It was enough to leave thoughts to the imagination. The straps rested on her shoulders and cut off mid-arm. It was knee length. She had bought a golden necklace with a large loveknot fastened to the chain and it swooped between her breasts. Her makeup was layered lightly, and her lipstick was a maroon red. Joan had gone for an eye catching light green dress. It had some ruffles on the base, and was also knee length. She wore her favourite pen necklace and did her hair up neatly. Peggy pulled a simple dress from her wardrobe, which flattered her figure. She kept her classic bob and layered on blush and eyeshadow.
There were eight men in their party at The 22 Club. Don, Roger, Pete, Stan and Joey from Sterling Cooper, and Kirk Lorrie, Clem Matthews, and Frank Mercer from Muriel Cigars. Kaye had her first look at Lorrie and his team. They were all older, in their forties or fifties. Kirk had large high-set cheekbones, a comb over to salvage what was left of his youth, and a long pointed nose. He was wearing a surprisingly well-fitted grey suit. The other two gentlemen on his team blended into the wall; their suits were poorly tailored and they looked generally unkempt. The doorman at the Club asked Lorrie to vet them as he assumed they were trying to sneak in with the party.
Once they were inside, they moved to a reserved private table in the rear corner of the Club which Pete had arranged last minute. Women in scantily clad outfits served cocktails of any sort, while burlesque dancers masqueraded on a stage. There was a dancing section as well, on the other side of the Club, where a crowd had gathered to swing. The atmosphere was very dark. The walls were all oak panels. Dim sconces were placed every fifteen feet or so. Each table was also lit by a small lamp.
"What'll it be gentlemen?" Roger said, sitting down and unbuttoning his suit jacket. A young woman, perhaps Kaye's age, with a beautiful face was standing table-side.
"Old fashioned." Don said, sitting down beside Roger. Pete ordered the same.
"Manhattan. No ice." Stan said, and sat beside Joey. Joey was distracted by the bright lights and pretty girls.
Kaye sat between Don and Kirk Lorrie. She ordered a Tom Collins, and Joan copied. The other men, and Peggy, ordered assortments of beer.
"I'll be right back with your drinks. My name is Carol, and I'll be your girl for the night." She flashed a smile and walked away.
"I haven't been in here." Kirk said. "It's my kind of place."
Kaye smiled.
"You better enjoy it. I had to sell my car to get in here." Roger said.
"What's your name sweetheart?" Kirk leaned over talking to Kaye.
"Kaye."
"I'm Kirk. Which one of the boys here brought you?"
"I work for the firm." She said. "I work under Don."
"Ah brains and beauty. Seldom a combination."
Kaye started drinking the Tom Collins, which Carol had just dropped off.
"So, how did you start working for Don? A little office romance?" Kirk said.
"It was easier than that."
"Oh really?"
"I strong-armed them into giving me a job. Conned my way through the rest, and now I'm here."
Kirk gave a long belly laugh.
"I like you." He said. Clem Matthews had taken a liking to Joan. He was chatting with her, and tripping over almost every word he said.
"Y-you like your job?" he said.
"Yes, very much so." She replied.
"How is being a s-secretary?"
"I'm the Office Manager."
"They have a lot of women in high places over there."
"There has to be someone to pull the reigns tight." She said.
"She tries hard to keep us in line." Roger interjected.
"I'd find it hard to stay in line." Clem said.
Joey and Peggy were at the edge of the table on the other side of Don. Stan was smoking a cigar and looking at the girls on stage.
"Doesn't this get boring?" Peggy started.
"No." Stan said.
"But you're just looking. Isn't it better to sleep with one girl than watch fifteen?"
"You take what you can get, Peggs." Stan concluded, drinking between puffs.
"If I make enough money, women will love me. This room is proof." Joey said.
"No, its proof that women love money." Stan said.
"Will you lay off the color-commentary for three seconds?"
"I only speak in sarcasm and witty comebacks." Stan watched their server Carol go by. He flashed her a wink and a smile and she returned it.
"She does that to everyone." Peggy said.
"I don't care."
Joey looked across the table at Kaye. He watched her interact with Kirk Lorrie. His greasy comb over was wetting from his sweat. Her eyes were always intent on the person she was speaking to, yet somehow never gave you the time of day. Kirk was eating her up. He loved her. His eyes were molesting her. Disgusting - Joey thought.
"You like her, don't you." Stan said from the blue.
"Who? Our server?" Joey shot back.
"Elizabeth Taylor. Who do you think?"
Joey looked from Kaye made an eye at Stan.
"Like you don't." he said.
"I don't." Stan replied.
"Yeah, okay."
"She's not my type."
"She's gorgeous. One of the most striking women I've ever seen."
"I never said she wasn't. She's not my type."
"What's your type?" Peggy said, drinking beer.
"Plain and simple. Not a bitch. Easy to talk with. I'll take a Margaret over a Melanie any day."
"He's an old man at heart." Joey drank.
"What's your type, Peggs?" Stan asked.
"I dunno…" She trailed off.
"Informative."
"Well I haven't considered it in a while."
"Dry as a nun on a Sunday morning." Joey said.
Peggy scoffed. "I've never thought about it."
"I bet you get wet seeing a chiselled jaw." Joey said. Stan brushed his chin.
"Don't stand up too quick." Peggy brought the beer to her lips. "Your Johnson is showing."
Stan laughed and Joey shrugged as he drank.
Don, who was in the middle of his second Old Fashioned didn't say much. Instead, he watched. Carol had taken to his smile, he wondered about taking her home. He watched his second protégé excel in a way that he never could; with her body. She used every smile, every coy touch, to interrogate. Lorrie had no idea he was under her spell. It attracted Don. His mind ran to thoughts of undressing Kaye in a dimly lit backroom. Her biting her lip, looking into his eyes. He was suddenly repelled by her; repelled by the thought that he could let himself go there. She reminded him of Rachel Menken. Stupid adolescent love that lasted a fortnight and ruined your life. He finished his Old Fashioned.
Kaye drank another Tom Collins under the watchful eye of Kirk Lorrie. As each drink was finished, he became more jovial and excited. He was unaware of her habit. She was antsy, waiting for drunkenness to wash over her and yet nothing would come. Clem Matthews had become more enraptured with Joan during his subsequent inebriation. The more he drank, the bolder the remarks became. Joan handled it well, Kaye noted. She was professional yet able to play with the boys. Kaye caught eyes with Joey who looked as a deer in headlights. Stan toasted her and smiled.
"You boys are coming next week, Tuesday, am I right?" Roger said, lighting a cigarette.
"Tuesday sounds fine with me. Just not in the morning. I like to sleep in." Kirk said. They laughed. "You people move quick. When Petey over there was telling me he could step up the game, I didn't believe your little scrappy crew had it in you."
"We surprise everyone." Kaye said.
"I've seen that tonight." Lorrie winked at her. "Give me a taste of a little something for Tuesday."
Don's gaze snapped to Kirk Lorrie. There was a cool silence over the table. Peggy had just barely overheard the demand and smiled. The boys were in the hot seat now. The silence was quickly going from brief to awkward. Pete spoke first.
"Why blow it out all at once? You'll have your cake soon." He smiled.
"I'm feeling like some cake now." Kirk said. "Give me something to wet my lips. Or do you have nothing?"
Kaye sat momentarily, her eyes darting around in thought.
"Stan, do you have a cigar?" She asked.
"Yeah." He reached into his back pocket. Kaye gestured for him to pass it over the table, which he did. She moved over to Lorrie and opened his suit jacket, reaching into his inner breast pocket. The executive was taken fully by surprise. He watched, amused. She removed his silver snap lighter and lit the end of the cigarillo.
"It's a simple ad." She began, inhaling and exhaling a plume of smoke. She leaned back against the booth seat, moving so that Don could view her pitch. "A beautiful woman and a handsome man, standing across from each other. He's in a dark blazer that we hardly see. He's looming over this beautiful woman; she is wearing something like a white shirt that exposes her breasts to him." Kaye leaned forward, exposing herself at the same time. "She has her mouth open as if she's talking to him, but he isn't saying anything. He has a Tipalet nestled between his fingers.
"Blow in her face -" Kaye exhaled a gust of smoke toward Kirk. "And she'll follow you anywhere."
Roger and Pete looked anxiously towards each other. Stan smoked. Kirk leaned back in his spot.
"Now that, is an ad I want to see." He turned to Roger. "Your girl here is something."
"She's a ringer." Roger downed his whiskey.
The whole table relaxed and breathed. The awkward tension dissipated.
"Blow in her face." Kirk laughed. "You guys will have that for Tuesday, right? I want to see it."
Kaye dreaded the weekend worth of work which would come before the pitch.
"Of course. We just finished the mock ups." Don said.
"I'm just going to visit the powder room." Kaye said, moving out from behind the table.
"I'll join you." Joan said, standing and following Kaye. Peggy stood and followed them. The Sterling Cooper girls made their way across the floor and into the empty ladies room on the other side of the bar. It was difficult moving through the ocean of men now lining the halls and walls of The 22 Club. Joan pulled out touch-up from her clutch and began applying a light layer of makeup. Kaye removed a vial of Raphetamine from her bag and snorted a long line placed on her hand. Joan passed Kaye a cursory glance but said nothing as she continued applying makeup.
"Not confident enough?" Peggy spoke up from behind the girls. She was adjusting her hair in the mirror.
Kaye rubbed her nose.
"Stay in your lane." She said, wiping her hands.
"If I have to listen to that God-awful man for ten more minutes I'm going to burst." Peggy said. "I don't know how you do it." She looked to Joan, who was applying a layer of mascara.
"You get used to it." Joan said. Kaye placed the vial beside Joan on the marble counter. She turned around to face the stalls and leaned against the stone slab.
"It makes the time more bearable."
Joan paused from applying the mascara, looked over to Kaye, and then down to the Raphetamine.
"How long does it last?" She asked.
"Depends how much you take." Kaye said.
"I think I can manage." Joan said, passing Kaye back the vial.
"Suit yourself." She replied.
"You know we're going to be at the office all weekend doing mockups of your blow job ad." Peggy said, turning away from the mirror.
"Better than leaving it to you, and losing business." Kaye said, walking towards the door to the ladies room. She pulled the large brass handle and held it open for Joan and Peggy to leave. The girls walked back on floor to see that the men had stood, and were scattered in little clumps through the Club. Some of the dancers were now walking around and passing out drinks. Kaye and Joan walked over to Don and Roger who were talking with Kirk Lorrie and Clem Matthews. Joey and Stan were talking; Peggy joined them, and Frank Mercer was speaking to Pete.
"Wonder if these girls would go home with you." Joey said, leaning over to Stan.
"It's 200 bucks."
"200 bucks! How did you figure that out?"
"One of them asked me." Stan said.
"They asked you?"
"She said if I wanted some time with her it would be 200 bucks."
"Are you gonna do it?" Joey asked.
"No."
"No? Why the hell not?"
"I told you, I prefer a Margaret over a Melanie. I also don't have 200 bucks."
"I'd take a Melanie or a Margaret." Joey said, drinking his beer.
The Club was becoming more crowded. It was difficult to move around near the dance floor.
"Peggs, you wanna dance?" Stan said, leaning over to her. "Before there's no room."
"What?" She looked up to him.
"Forget it then." Stan placed his empty glass on a waitresses' tray as she walked by.
"That's not what I meant." Peggy turned to face him, taking his hand by his side. Stan looked down to her. He pulled her out to the floor and began dancing with Peggy.
Kirk had put his arm around Kaye's waist as the group was standing in the corner of the dance floor area. Roger was pitching SCDP, and what more they could bring to the table. Kirk was watching the burlesque stage. The group moved further back into a more secluded area of the Club. Clem Matthews had now made two passes at Joan for a kiss, which she ignored and pretended not to see. He had fallen against the wall the second time. Kaye laughed.
Suddenly, Kaye noticed a slight trembling in her hands. It was almost imperceptible. She grabbed her hand to stop it from trembling but it wouldn't.
"I'll be right back." She said, pulling away from Kirk and the Sterling Cooper team. She moved down the wall to a set of single door washrooms, which were seldom used. Once she was inside, she leaned against the wall; her hands shaking more violently. Reaching into her clutch, she poured out a large quantity of powder onto the sink ledge. She snorted the line and sat down on the toilet.
An eternity passed by, and yet it was no time at all. The shaking dissipated and a climax of euphoria ensued. She had taken too much to go unnoticed, but not enough to take her out of the ring. After cleaning her nose, there was a slight wrap at the door.
"Is everything okay?" the voice said.
"Just fine." Kaye replied, giggling.
"Can I come in?"
It was a man's voice. Hard to recognise through the heavy wooden door.
"Uh, no, I'll be out in a minute." Kaye said. She dried her hands on a towel hanging from the hanger. As she unlocked the dead bolt, the door began to open. She instinctively put her foot out and stopped it. In the 6-inch gap between the jamb, the face of Kirk Lorrie appeared.
"Can I help you?" Kaye said.
"Well, yes. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You disappeared."
Kaye smiled, pulling her foot away from the door. Kirk pushed it all the way open.
"I'm just fine now." She leaned back against the sink.
"How did you come up with that pitch?"
"It comes to me, like all things do." She said, standing again, and attempting to make her way past Kirk's arm. He didn't move.
"You didn't plan that." He said, unflinching. "You came up with it on the spot."
"Either way. You like it, don't you?" She looked into his eyes.
"Well, yeah. It's the most creative thing I've heard in a while. You should be the Creative Director."
"One day I'll wrestle it from Don." She smiled.
"Why don't you come work for me, at Muriel. Throw these old dogs out. You don't need them. I'll open an advertising department for you. You can hand pick your team."
Kaye stood there a moment, thinking.
"What do you make with Sterling Cooper and Cronies? Fifteen?" Kirk continued.
"Twenty-seven."
"I'll pay you forty if you can produce third quarter results. The only one above you would be me." Kirk said.
"I'll think about it." She smiled.
"You'll think about it?" Kirk said. "I'm doubling your salary and giving you a promotion and you'll think about it?" He moved into the washroom near Kaye. The door began closing.
Kaye stepped back.
"Sometimes you have to dance with the one who brought you." She said.
"I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime. All you really gotta do is leave these bozos, show me a little attention, and your career is set."
"Show you a little attention?" She said.
"Well, I mean look what I've done for you. I think we can both agree I deserve a little bit of attention for the very generous offer I've given." Kirk stepped closer to Kaye once again. Now he was looking down upon her.
"I think you're confused…" Kaye said. As she finished her sentence, Kirk kissed her. At first he was fast and gentle, but as she began pulling away, he wrapped his arm around her to hold her firmly in place. She tried turning her head but he was forceful and maintained the hold.
"Get…off." She managed between his tongue jamming into her mouth. Kaye began pushing on Kirk's chest to move him. The harder she pressed, the harder his grip became.
"You're hurting me." She said. His fingers had dug into the skin on her arm. He was still persisting, now trying to pull off the top of her dress and grope her breasts.
"Come on Kaye," He managed in laboured breaths. "Let's just have a little fun. No one will know."
"Get the fuck off me." She took a closed fist and slammed it into Kirk's face, rings and all. The man recoiled into the wall after a quick yelp. He clutched his face where blood had now begun dripping.
"You dumb bitch." He spat. Kaye reached for the door, but he cut her off at the pass. He locked the deadbolt in a fluid motion.
"You kiss your wife with that mouth?" She replied.
"I kiss whoever I want." He grabbed her again and flipped Kaye over, throwing her against the bathroom wall. She knocked her head and momentarily blacked out.
When she came to, Kirk was on top of her. A hazy recollection of events filled her mind. Her dress had been pulled off and what remained was only her undergarments. She began kicking and flailing. The stronger man quickly covered her mouth and stopped the screams from erupting.
"Stop being stupid." He said. "Let this happen. I'll sign on Tuesday."
Kaye slowed her squirming. She stopped altogether and looked up with great tears of black mascara running down her face. The blood was drying on Kirk's face now. He looked like a gored animal in dim light. He released his grip slightly, allowing her to move more freely.
"Are we going to play nice?" He said.
Kaye nodded slowly.
"Good. Take the rest of your clothes off."
He let her arm go, enough that she could reach down.
There was a knock at the door. It came from the blue, and interrupted the music thumping from outside.
"Anyone in here?"
It was a man's voice. Kirk's eyes shot down immediately to watch Kaye. He covered her mouth once again and she screamed as loudly as she could.
"I'm all good!" Kirk yelled over the muffled screams. "Just finishing up in here."
The most mind numbing pain shot through Kirk's hand. He tried ripping it away from Kaye's mouth, but she had sunk her teeth into his fingers. He lashed out and jumped back. This was all the time that was needed. Kaye let go of his hand and screamed for help multiple times. When Kirk had come to his senses, he kneeled into her back, crushing the air from her lungs. The scream quickly died out.
His eyes darted quickly for the door. It had gone silent. Then a loud slam racketed against the frame. He stood up, allowing the slamming to continue. Throwing her dress on top of her, he stood to look at himself in the mirror.
Kaye began breathing again, drawing in slow deep breaths. The cool tiles of the floor helped soothe the ear-splitting headache she had. Blood was running down her face. She looked over her shoulder to Kirk who was standing motionless in the mirror.
He reached up to the coagulated cut on his forehead and tore it open. Blood began pouring out which he proceeded to wipe over his face, and spread some onto his collar and tie. Kaye sat up against the wall, looking at him. The slamming on the door continued.
With another motion, Kirk swung the door open. Stan Rizzo was standing there.
"What the hell is happening?" Stan said, his face contorted in horror at the scene.
"I have no idea." Kirk said, grabbing his forehead. "One minute, we're together, making love, and the next minute, I'm on the floor, blood coming from my forehead. I guess I must have slipped on some water or something, and banged my head on the way down, dragging poor Kaye with me."
"Kaye?" Stan stood silently, looking down to her.
She was speechless, her eyes were glass, mascara poured down her cheeks and he face was soaked in tears.
"Thank god Kaye called out for help. The next thing I knew, I heard banging on the door and now you're here."
Kaye shook her head slowly. He could see the beginning of some bruises along her arm and lower thighs. There was blood dripping from her skull and had now covered her left cheek.
"You're gonna leave here, right now." Stan said, staring at Lorrie.
"Stanley, there's a big misunderstanding here." Kirk moved out of the washroom, cleaning his forehead with the towel from the hanger.
"The only misunderstanding I see, is that you haven't walked away yet."
"Now I'm here as your invited guest, and that's not how you speak to a guest." Kirk's tone became contemptuous. "We wouldn't want to jeopardise this meeting on Tuesday, would we?"
Stan laughed.
"You just don't get it do you." Stan moved to stand nearly on top of Kirk. His nose, inches from the other man's. "Do I need to make you understand?"
"Stan…" Kaye whimpered. He snapped his gaze over to her. She had leaned against the wall, pulling herself up slowly.
"Don't. It's not… it's not worth it." She said.
Stan unclenched his fist at his side. He moved to steady Kaye, who began sliding the dress back on, covering her legs, torso and then bust. Kirk stood silently.
"I'll see you Tuesday." Kaye said, facing Kirk. Her head was pounding and she could barely stand.
"Sorry?" Kirk said
"You're going to come on Tuesday, with Mercer and Matthews." Kaye leaned against the doorjamb. "You'll bring everyone along. We'll go over the pitch. You'll tell me what great ideas I have... You'll ask where to sign…" She took a deep breath. "And then we'll make Tipalet famous, and you'll pay us generously."
Kirk brought the towel down from his head, "Why for a minute would..."
"Because you love your wife. Because you love your job. Your children respect you. It would be unfortunate if Mrs. Lorrie and kids were to hear about this." Kaye said.
"Yes," Kirk's hands shook, he let the towel fall to the ground. "I suppose it would be... unfortunate." Kirk backed further away from Stan. He turned and without another word, made his way through the thickening crowd.
"What a fucking creep." Stan said.
Kaye began crying. It started slowly with a few tears coming from her eyes as Kirk disappeared. And then it flowed into uncontrollable sobbing. Stan caught her arm as she leaned over. He said nothing, but hugged her. Kaye placed her arms around him and pushed her face into his chest as she sobbed, rubbing off most of the blood. They didn't move for a few minutes. Kaye finally slowed, and pulled away from Stan.
"Thank you." She managed. Stan said nothing but nodded and smiled.
Kaye pulled back from Stan, wiping what was left of the mascara off her face.
"I'm so high I can't feel my legs." Kaye smiled for the first time.
Stan laughed and held his arm out to support her. Kaye carried her heels with her as she limped through the club, leaning on Stan's shoulder. Stan flagged down Peggy as they were making their way to the doors.
"What's happening?" She asked.
"I'm taking Kaye home. Tell Don and Roger. Don't let Kirk Lorrie leave without confirming the Tuesday meeting."
"We haven't even been here that long." Peggy said. "She lined this whole thing up. Shouldn't she check on him?"
"Not now, Peggs." Stan gave her a look.
"See you tomorrow then. Don't come in drunk, Kaye." Peggy turned, and made her way back. Kaye watched Peggy leave and said nothing.
"She's caught in her own head." Stan said. "Don't let it bother you."
The night air outside was chilled. The moon, though waning, looked full. Street lights lit the entire sidewalk corridor. Stan and Kaye walked in silence until they came upon Kaye's Mercedes.
"When'd you get this?"
"I don't even remember." She said. Reaching into her purse, she fumbled with the keys.
"We could just take my car." Stan said.
"I don't want to walk anymore. Are you coming back after?"
"To see Mr. Molester and his sidekicks? No thanks."
"Stay at my place. I owe you." Kaye said.
Stan didn't protest, and took the keys from her shaking hands. He opened the door and led her into the passenger seat. After starting the car and revving it up, he took off into the night.
The ride home was uneventful. Kaye lit a cigarette and smoked.
"You can hold your own." Stan said, turning a corner quickly.
"Comes with the territory."
"Peggy and Joan are about the hardest girls in the business. Even they don't blink when they look at you."
"They've been hardened by different things." Kaye said, exhaling a plume of smoke and flicking the ash out the window.
"The office mill says you slept with Don. But you haven't. How'd you get the job? Peggy won't say."
"How do you know I haven't?"
"I can just tell. He wants to sleep with you. Not nearly as badly as Joey does."
She paused to collect her thoughts.
"I've done a lot of different things." She shifted gears. "I freelanced for a while."
"Freelancer to Assistant Creative Director. Little jump there." Stan said.
"When you live on the street, you learn how to bend people to get what you want."
Stan nodded, looking over at Kaye. She flicked the butt of the cigarette out the window and rolled it up. Not long after the conversation ended, they pulled up to Kaye's apartment.
"I always wondered who lived here." Stan said, opening the door for Kaye.
"Rich degenerates. Who else."
Stan helped Kaye up the front steps, staircases, and into her apartment. The lights were out.
"Your apartment's huge." Stan said.
"Quiet. My brother and sister are here."
Stan said nothing and followed her into the bedroom.
"Help me into the shower." Kaye said, unzipping her dress with her arm behind her back. Stan unzipped the rest. She pulled her dress off, and they moved into the bathroom. Turning on the water, Stan lifted her into the tub. She yelped as the cold water hit her exposed back and slowly warmed up.
"I'm still so high." She said, leaning against the wall, letting the water rush down her back. Her underwear and bra were now soaked. Stan stood beside the tub and shower.
"Soap my back. It's on the sink." She said, closing her eyes under the spray.
Stan reached over with the bar and began running it over her back, his hands brushed over her skin. He could see deep bruises forming in some areas; her thighs and most of the area near the shoulder. She winced in pain.
"Sorry." He said. "Trying to be gentle."
"It's okay." She turned around and faced Stan, cleaning her back of soap. She opened her eyes to him looking at her, studying her.
"Why don't you take a picture?" Kaye said.
"You look good."
"It takes more than Debbie Drake's callisthenics to look like this. I like how I look." She said.
"Sure." He smirked "I'm not complaining."
Kaye rolled her eyes, and turned off the shower, stepping out of the tub. She reached for a towel, removed her bra and underwear while Stan faced the wall. She wrapped herself quickly.
"Thank you." Kaye said, walking up to Stan. He looked down to her eyes. Kaye kissed him, gently pushing her lips against his. He kissed her, reaching behind her neck and holding her head. They spent a moment at the edge of the bathroom in each others embrace.
Stan pulled away.
"You've seen some shit tonight. You need sleep." He said.
"I'm not complaining." She smiled coyly.
"Get to bed. If we went any further, she'd never forgive me."
"You've got it bad for Peggy." Kaye said, walking past him into the bedroom.
"Who said that?" Stan said, turning to watch her as she reached into her chest-a-drawers and faced the wall to slip her underwear and a nightgown.
"You're more of a Peggy than a Kaye."
"I said Margaret."
"You meant Peggy."
He smiled, walking over to sit on a leather chair near the window of Kaye's bedroom.
"Might as well have said Peggy." Kaye continued. "She's oblivious."
"I know." Stan said.
Kaye looked out the other window adjacent to Stan. She ran her ringed fingers gently over and around her navel, and watched as some traffic drove by below. A long moment passed in silence.
"I'll never forget what you did for me, Stan." She looked down at him.
"No dark sarcasm?"
"Not now. But, you won't hear it again." She leaned back. "The least I can do for you is let you sleep on the bed. I can take the couch."
"Your bed is huge. Why waste the space? It'll make for a story that I slept with thee Kaye Sharpe."
Stan stood up, walked around the bed, and threw himself down beside Kaye under the top duvet. Kaye ran her hands gently through his hair.
"Goodnight, Stan." She said.
"Goodnight."
