Putting on the Ritz

Chapter Fourteen - Olivia

Olivia had gone to bed early, for fear that someone would be able to read the excitement on her face and discover her plans to sneak out to the secret speakeasy that Fred the waiter had told her about and Lawrence the cake-eater had more or less invited her to.

She had it all planned out and it could not have gone better. She had arranged for a car to pick her up a nine thirty, at the neighbor's address of course, she wouldn't want her mother looking out the window and wonder why a driver was at their gates. She had thought that she would have to pretend to go to bed rather early, and sneak down the trellis from her second story bedroom window in order to not be seen, but it turned out that everyone else seemed to have gone to bed rather early as well, allowing her to just slip out the front door unnoticed.

She had even expertly dressed herself for the evening having picked out the sparkliest of her beaded dresses and tying up the fabric with a ribbon at her hips to mock-shorten the hemline to just above the knee. She had tucked her hair under as best she could to imitate a bob, but the expertly done finger waves and feathered headband more than made up for the hairdo mishap. With some coal on her eyes, rouge on her lips, and a spritz of Chanel No. 5, she stepped out of the car onto Clarke street, many miles away from where she was supposed to be.

Reminding herself that confidence is key, she walked right through quaint little restaurant called Red Ivy, and gave the password to the pair of eyes that peered judgmentally down at her from the slit in the door. 

"Wrong. That password is old." The pair of eyes slammed the sliding door over shut over the small opening.

"Wait!" she begged. The sliding door slowly reopened. "I'm here... as a guest... of Lawrence Caldwell."

The eyes narrowed at her and the voice that belonged to them harrumphed, but eventually after a bit of muffled arguing, the door opened. Olivia stepped into a world that even her wild and romantic mind could not have imagined.

There seemed to be no rules in this establishment. Not just the uppity rules that governed those of her social class, but any societal rules at all. Women in the finest designer dresses danced with chaps in rags, gangsters were sitting at tables with politicians, old women were sitting on the laps younger gentleman, all types of peoples from all backgrounds and races intermingled as if the race riots of 1919 were just a dream. For the first time in her life, Olivia had realized how young and stupid she was to think she could just waltz into a place like this and fit in.

She knew in an instant that the people before her were far more worldly than she could ever become. Just by looking at the way they carried themselves and the way they dressed, she knew that they had seen and done things that Olivia could not have imagined. She had no doubt that the persons in this place would chew her up and spit her out without so much as blinking. She looked at the wildly dancing women in their sparkly dresses and those sitting in booths with long cigarette holders and longed to become one of them. 

A smile spread across her face as she thought of the possibilities before her. She scanned the room for a sign of Lawrence and eventually found the bedraggled man with a loosened tie, and sleeves rolled up to the elbow, sitting with the still pristinely dressed figure of Mr. Edward Carleton, and man she did not recognize. 

She sauntered over to the table, realizing she did not know anyone else here. She tried to come up with a smart thing to say, intimidated by the much more experienced women surrounding her, but only came up with, "Hello."

"Hello!" Lawrence bellowed back at her.

"What is with the tea?" Olivia asked, placing a hand on her hip.

"It's called discretion," Lawrence said with slurred words. "In case the coppers come. You know, if someone glances in, it looks like we're just sitting here drinking tea." Lawrence laughed, his face rosy with amusement.

"You're drunk." Olivia stated plainly.

"Ding, Ding, Ding!" Lawrence yelled over the music, and then hiccupped. 

"Miss Olivia. What are you doing here?" A more put together Edward asked, concern marked across his face.

"I came to have some fun... but it looks like Lawrence stole it all." She said jokingly. The other man, the stranger, gave a slight chuckle.

"I don't think I know you." Olivia said to the man.

He said "mmm", but did not answer.

Edward, always so polite, filled in the gap. "This is our friend, Lucian Slate."

"Nice to meet you," she said to the stern looking man, unsure if she should use his first name right away since there did seem to be no rules. "I'm Olivia, or you can call me Livvy."

The man nodded, but that was the only confirmation Olivia had that he had even heard her.

"Sit!" Lawrence yelled happily, right as the band that was playing paused. Everyone glanced in their direction at the outburst. Lawrence laughed, Lucian looked annoyed, and Edward seemed rather concerned. Olivia looked around the room; everyone had returned to their own little bubbles as quickly as they had turned to look for the source of the outburst. No one seemed to give a damn about a well-dressed girl, obviously out past bedtime, sitting with three men drinking illegally distributed substances. So, letting go of such thoughts, she timidly slid into the spot next to Lawrence.

It was silent at the table as they all looked at each other from one to the other, aside from Lawrence who couldn't seem to focus on anything but draining the teacup in front of him. The band played on in the background filling their ears with jazz music. "I think I will just go get a drink." Olivia stated embarrassed by the silence, realizing that in her world a drink would have been brought to her by a servant, or if they were out at a restaurant bought by one of the male companions. But then, she remarked, she would not have been seen out with three male companions without a chaperone in her world, nor would those drinks have been of the alcoholic variety. 

"Here." Lawrence scooted a teacup in her direction. "I bought plenty." And so he had. There were just as many filled cups as there were empty ones sitting at the edge of the table. She pulled the teacup closer and clutched it between both of her hands to take a sip. The clear liquid burned as it went down.

"Ciggies?" A rather pretty looking, tall, dark, cigarette girl approached the table with her tray.

"Vera!" Lawrence yelled, as he seemed to be yelling everything that night. "Sit down! Have a drink."

Vera laughed, clearly amused by Lawrence's belligerent state. "I'm off in ten." She smiled and walked off, her gold dress sparkling behind her.

"Miss Olivia," Edward turned to her.

"Just Olivia is fine," she said slightly exasperated that he was trying to keep up pretenses still. "I have known you my entire life, and everyone knows you have an infatuation with my sister."

Lawrence started laughing and slugged his friend in the shoulder. "She's got you there."

"Speaking of your sister," Edward pressed on. "Does she know you are here?"

"No. And I do not intend to tell her."

Edward sighed.

"That's why I told her to ask for me when she got here." Lawrence said as if he were the brightest of the bunch instead of the most incoherent sap at that table. Olivia beamed hearing him tell his friends specifically that he had requested she ask for him at the door.

"You invited her out here?" Olivia had never seen Edward angry, but his voice shook and he eyes bore into Lucian, who probably couldn't focus enough to realize that Edward was even looking in his direction. "Do you know how worried Clara would be, if she knew her sister were in a place like this, with her only company a cad such as yourself?"

Olivia crossed her arms angrily.

"That's why I had her ask for me." Lawrence slurred. "If she was going to go to a place like this, it is better that we are around to keep an eye on her."

So, Lawrence had only wanted to keep an eye on her. And just like that, all the possibilities, all the fun around her, faded, leaving a hole in her chest, which she decided to fill by get roaring drunk.