Page 20 of In a Far-Off Land
I shrugged him off and sniffed, wiping away the moisture from my eyes with a fingertip so as not to smear my makeup. Montgomery was back, swearing to love her despite her past.
The film ended with Garbo writing a note to her lover as he slept, telling him that she was saving him from ruin, and slipping away into the dark. It was melodramatic and not her best film, but as we walked along Sunset, I couldn’t shake the image of Greta Garbo’s sad eyes, her heartbroken expression.
Of course, Max was talking again, this time about the newsound systems that MGM was rumored to have in the works. We passed the pawnshop where I’d hocked Mama’s ring, and I stopped to look at it, like I always did. It was still there, displayed front and center. I’d saved my tips from the Derby but didn’t have enough to buy it back yet. With a little luck, it would still be there when I could.
I didn’t notice at first when Max fell quiet and stepped closer. I guess I looked broken up, because he put a finger under my chin and turned my face toward his. “Hey. That film really got to you.”
I shrugged and shook my head at the same time, keeping my eyes on the ring so he couldn’t see them fill up again.
Max put his arm around me when I shivered in the cool wind. “People make mistakes. If he was any kind of man, he’d have forgiven her.”
I was a little surprised that he’d even followed the story, what with his nonstop monologue, but it wasn’t Garbo’s lover I’d been thinking of. “Maybe it wasn’t his forgiveness that she needed.”
He gave me a look I couldn’t figure, then tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and pulled me away from the window. “I wouldn’t have pegged you to fall for the sappy stuff, Mina.”
I swallowed to clear my tight throat. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
At dinner, he was even more charming than usual, making me laugh at his sharp comments about the couples parading through the Montmartre. A few times I caught him looking at me oddly, and I tried to shake off my melancholy. It was just a film, for Pete’s sake. Not some kind of prophecy.
Then we danced, and all was well when we danced. The sparkling chandelier played across Max’s face. One hand held mine and the other rested on my waist, guiding me effortlessly. Oursteps were always in sync, Max’s and mine. And for a little while, it was only the music and each other, moving in perfect rhythm. No worries, no regrets.
When Max dropped me off that night—walking me to my door like always—I felt something new between us. Oh, I owed him—he was sticking his neck out for me and didn’t expect anything more than a handshake. But this was more than gratitude. I hadn’t had a real friend in so long, I’d forgotten how it felt. It was the beginning of something good, something I hadn’t known I needed.
——————
Even back then, Max wasn’t all business. Once in a while, he was just a fella who wanted to have a nice night with a pretty girl. That’s what I told myself the night we went to the Tower Theatre. He picked me up at seven, jumping out of the roadster, shiny as a new pin, to open the door for me. It was our usual film night and I’d picked out a soft russet dress. Nothing fancy, but the sweetheart neckline and fitted bolero jacket were the thing for just about any outing. I’d put on some weight and the shadows had disappeared from my eyes. At least at the Brown Derby, I got a square meal every shift.
Max gave a low whistle as he jumped back in the driver’s seat. “You get better looking every day.” His honey-gold eyes slipped over me, a half smile bending his lips.
I tossed my head and pretended my heart didn’t somersault at the compliment. “Then I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
He laughed and squealed the tires, I grabbed the door handle and let out a little shriek. His driving really was frightful.
He took me to the Tower Theatre crammed on the corner of Broadway and Eighth. He tossed the keys to the valet and helpedme out, hustling me under the marquee with its soaring terra-cotta tower topped by a four-sided clock and Indian-head sculptures.
It was a thrill, as usual, being with Max. Women couldn’t help but look at him. I could practically see them go weak in the knees. Men recognized him and shook his hand with a glint of envy in their eyes. He had plenty of acquaintances, but I had yet to meet anyone he called a friend.
“Been here before?” he asked as he nodded to the attendant but didn’t buy a ticket.
I told him no, getting a good look at the lavish interior as the usher led us up a wide central staircase with carved walnut handrails and a stained-glass window that let in the last of the evening sun. I gawked at a chandelier the size of a small automobile before being ushered through a marble-columned doorway. The place looked more like one of those fancy churches in Europe than a picture house.
“It’s a monstrosity, isn’t it?” Max smiled, tucking my hand in the crook of his arm. “Supposed to be just like the Paris Opera House. Never been there, so I can’t tell you for sure.” He was jittery and the look he gave me was like a kid with a secret. We entered the auditorium—smallish in size, but boasting a painted dome of a ceiling, carved paneling, and inset medallions of burled wood.
We were directed by ushers to seats in the front section. The picture house was half empty, and most of the audience was men in suits and women in no-nonsense dresses as if they’d just come from work at an office or the studios. A few furs and men in evening wear, so I didn’t feel overdressed.
I settled down beside Max and leaned close. “Are you going to tell me what we’re seeing?”
“Just relax.” He cupped his long fingers over mine on thearmrest, like two upside-down spoons. I liked it, but it didn’t mean anything.
I gave him a hard time, partly to cover for the tingles ricocheting up my arm. “You aren’t going to tell me about the lighting? Nothing about directors or technique, Professor Clark?”
“Not this time.” He smiled as if he’d played me.
I narrowed my eyes. “What is this?”
He smirked. “A sneak preview. Actually, a private sneak preview before the sneak preview.”
I raised my brows. “Of?” The suspense was killing me.
