Very excited! My new novel, Thawing A.C. Nielsen, is now up and available for "pre-sale" (just $2.99 for Kindle or other ebook format, then price goes up before the holidays) on Kindle here:
http://amzn.to/2bULRD1
Still to be posted there--a 5-star review from one of the top reviewing companies. Until it goes "live for sale" there won't be any customer reviews or samples-- that happens Oct. 18th. There will also be a paperback version up soon. Check it out and please spread the word. I need all the publicity help I can get since I am not giving away my book to a mainstream publishing house!
I am wondering if any of you would consider reviewing the book. It will be released on Amazon/Kindle on October 18th. I need reviews from regular folks posted to amazon on the release day, if possible. You get a FREE pdf, word.doc or .mobi (Kindle ebook file) copy and plenty of time between now and mid-October to read it. Let me know, friends!
In chapter 18 Kate has lunch (well, a liquid lunch!) with Gloria Dunham at The Pump Room, which for you non-Chicagoans, is a Chicago old-school institution. I had the pleasure of meeting John Malkovich and Gary Sinise there years ago when they were doing a Steppenwolf Theater reunion. Lt. Dan may have been up too late the night before, by the way!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Hello? Miss Pearson? Is that you there? The sun is so bright.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve been standing here watching for you.” Kate was dressed to impress in her swankiest outfit. After all, it wasn’t every day you had lunch with a famous gazillionaire movie legend.
“Help me out of this cab, dear Katherine,” Gloria Dunham said, “and then help me into the lobby. And why ever did they change the name of this place? It’s absolutely sinful.”
“You mean the hotel name, Miss Dunham?” Kate helped Gloria through the doors and into the lobby of The Public Chicago Hotel, formerly the historic Ambassador East. “I don’t know. And honestly, I didn’t realize The Pump Room was still in business inside here.”
“No, but I’ve heard about it. The hopping place to be back in the day, huh? If you were really on fire you got Booth One, correct?”
“That is correct. I see you are not as ignorant as most people your age.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.” Kate tried not to respond with anything too snarky.
The suave maître d’ recognized Gloria as she approached. “Oh, Miss Dunham, so happy to see you return to The Pump Room. What has it been? Six months… a year?”
“Hello, Roberto. I’m not sure how long it’s been. Too long, I’m sure. But you know I’ll always come visit you when I’m in Chicago. Can you give us a table over by that window there? I sat there with Bogart and Bacall maybe about 1955. I see Booth One is already occupied.”
“Next time call ahead and Booth One is yours. We’re always happy to serve you,” Roberto said graciously.
“Come, Katherine, let’s sit.” Gloria dropped her tired old bones into her chair with a grimace. “It’s not easy being this old, Katherine. I’ve got some advice for you: live hard and die young. Not that I’ve done that. I’ve outlived almost all my enemies, and my friends. It’s strange and exhilarating, I must say.”
Exhilarating to outlive friends? That’s odd. Well, Mike and Franklin warned me to watch my step. Hell, I’m not scared of her. And anyway, what does she want from me?
“Hello, Miss Dunham. Greetings to you on this fine day,” Tony deAngelo crooned. “I’m very happy to serve you today. Shall we begin with a beverage?”
“Yes, Tony. I’ll have a Bloody Mary, the usual way. What will you have, Katherine?”
“I see you’ve got a pomegranate martini featured. That sounds good.”
“Very well, then,” Tony said, with a slight bow.
Kate looked around at the photos of generations of celebrities and politicians plastered on virtually every square foot of wall space—Frank Sinatra, Bette Davis, Ronald Reagan, John Belushi, Jimmy Carter, Doris Day, Johnny Cash, Harry Truman, Lucille Ball, Victor Borge, Jack Benny, Charles DeGaulle, and hundreds more. The celebrity photos fascinated Kate. But there were also many faces she didn’t recognize, maybe singers and actors who had enjoyed their fifteen minutes of fame but now were largely forgotten. Yet their youthful, smiling faces still held court at The Pump Room.
The drinks arrived and Gloria stirred her Bloody Mary over and over before she took a sip. She sized up Kate, as if she were trying to figure out if she was an easy mark or a true adversary.
Kate took a sip of her pomegranate martini and started the conversation. “So, Miss Dunham, what was it like to be in the movies, especially back in the Hollywood glory days?”
“It was exciting, of course. But it was hard work.”
“I’m sure. But it was glamorous, right?”
“Do you see the man with the cigar in that photo over there? He was a big-time producer. I did three films for him. He told me over and over that I was a failure as an actress, and I believed him.”
“That’s a shame,” Kate said. Ah, here comes the part where I just listen and nod. I can do that. Besides, this drink is tasty.
“I was working in radio and Hollywood during those years. Constantly flying back and forth between New York and Los Angeles. The public loved me, especially the people who listened to radio shows in the 40s and 50s. I was always the sweet girl next door. Maybe hard for you to picture when you see me today, right, Katherine?”
“I’m sure you were a great beauty in your youth. And I have to say, your eyes are still totally amazing. They must have been something you were famous for, right?”
“Oh, yes. I’m Norwegian. Blonde hair, the bright blue eyes. My real name is Gloria Swenson. Of course, that wouldn’t fly in Hollywood. Gloria Swanson was already an enormous star. So I became Gloria Dunham. I grew up in Minnesota. That’s what we all look like up there. Hollywood loves blondes, Katherine.” Gloria had already reached the bottom of her drink. The waiter noticed and brought another. “You know, if your eyesight is better than mine, which I’m sure it is, you might be able to spot me here and there on these walls.”
“Really? Shall I look and see?”
“If you like. I’ll give you a little help. I’m with men in each of the photos.”
“All right,” Kate said, standing up. “I’ll prowl around.” Kate walked slowly through the room. A few other people were doing the same thing—examining all the photos of the rich and famous lining the walls of the restaurant. Kate finally latched on to a photo that seemed like it might be Gloria. She called out from across the room. “This one? It looks like you, with, I think, Alan, um, Alan somebody, right?”
“Alan Ladd, nice fellow. Decent actor. But no, that’s not me. That’s Veronica Lake. That’s from when she and Alan were publicizing The Blue Dahlia, her only decent movie. Notice the chin? Not mine. Plus I hated her.”
Kate kept wandering. Oops, guess I flubbed that. Aha, how about this one. Blonde, blue eyes, the right chin. “I’ve found you, Miss Dunham. Right here, correct?”
“Very good, Kate. And who is the fellow, do you know?”
“I have no idea. But you look like you’re in love,” Kate speculated, returning to her seat.
“That’s me with my first husband, the first time I was ever here. I was so young and innocent; can you see it? He was a trumpet player. Started out playing with the Jimmy Dorsey big band before going out on his own. He was fairly famous in the day. Over the years, we drifted apart. We were both traveling too much, and then later he had health difficulties. I was having my own problems holding on to my sanity what with all the pressure of Hollywood. I started taking a lot of pills. There were pills all over our house, I’m sorry to say. I don’t blame him for our breakup and all my problems. I was nasty to be around. Of course, the public didn’t know any of that. That’s how Hollywood worked. Your personal life could be going down the crapper, as they say, but no one would know.”
“You’re quite candid about your past, Miss Dunham. I admire that.”
“There’s no sense in pretending when you’re my age. Whatever happened, happened. I had problems with men my whole life. And pills. Oh my God, the pills. Katherine, you need another drink, don’t you?” Gloria snapped her gnarly old fingers and the waiter appeared. “Please get Katherine another martini, Tony.”
“And would you like to order now, Miss Dunham?”
“No, I’m not really hungry. I don’t eat very much these days, Tony. Shall we just keep chatting and sipping, Katherine?”
“Whatever you wish.” Kate smiled.
“All right. Can you find another?” Gloria asked, reaching into her purse and pulling out some ruby red lipstick.
“Well, let’s look again.” Kate stood up and walked over toward a little alcove. More famous folks—Bing Crosby hamming it up at Booth One with Bob Hope and Dorothy Lamour. The Monkees, Harrison Ford, Twiggy, Steve Martin, Mel Gibson. And there—the amazing blue eyes, the delicate lips and nose, the halo of wavy golden-blonde hair. “Here you are, and that’s Frank McMurtry. I saw him in a Hitchcock movie. Am I right?”
“Yes, Katherine. You’re quite good at this!” Gloria smiled.
“I spend hours looking through microscopes. My eyes better be good. And my dad forced me to watch a lot of old movies on videotape with him when I was a kid. We’d sit there with popcorn and watch together.”
“That’s nice. Maybe I can meet him some day.”
“No, he passed away a few years ago from cancer. My mom is all alone now except for me.”
“I’m very sorry. That’s sad to hear. Well, you are right, that is Frank McMurtry—husband number two. When our movie careers were fading we did a TV situation comedy. It wasn’t so bad. I think it lasted four seasons.”
“And then what?”
“Well, then I was a little bonkers again, dear Katherine. I couldn’t keep a grip on much of anything. I was angry that the studios were passing me over for actresses who were much younger and less difficult to deal with, I suppose I should add. I took it out on Frank a lot. Boy, did I ever take it out on him. He wasn’t as forgiving as my first husband. Would you like to hear the story? You’ll learn where virtually all my loot came from.”
Kate’s second drink arrived. She took a sip. It was delicious but strong. I guess it’s a liquid lunch today, she thought. Better watch myself. “Sure, go ahead, Miss Dunham.”
“Frank had become one of the richest men in all of Southern California. He had built up oodles of dollars from real estate investments. When he got tired of dealing with me and my problems he finally gave a big chunk of his money to me, just to convince me to go away, to disappear quickly and quietly.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Kate said.
“Uh-huh. So would you like to hear a funny story about this place we’re in?”
“Of course.”
“In 1957 or 1958 Queen Elizabeth came here. Some big event was going on in Chicago. She stayed
“I don’t know. What?”
“Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second sat here!”
“Ha, that’s funny. They put it on the wall here?”
“No, they didn’t dare do that, but they gave it to the hotel owner to take home. It’s a true story.” Gloria coughed, shrunk down in her seat, and hacked up a little phlegm, which she hid in a napkin. She sighed, touched up her makeup, and then sat up straighter, ready for more fun. “Okay, back to work, Katherine, chop-chop. You’ve got one more to find. Do you like this game?”
“Well, yes I do,” Kate said, even though two strong martinis on an empty stomach were making her feel a little weird. And martini number three had just arrived, thanks to the ever-attentive Tony. “All right, let me look some more. Do you suppose people watching me think I’m some pathetic tourist from Kansas or something?”
“Oh, I am sure of that. You have a Kansas look to you, Katherine. Has anyone ever told you that? Fresh from the farm. But who cares? We’re having fun, we have refreshments, and we have time on our hands.” Gloria’s blazing blues eyes twinkled.
“Okay. Let me wander over by that door to the kitchen. I haven’t looked there yet.” Kate searched but couldn’t find Gloria. But Elvis was there along with Colonel Parker, plus photos of Sophia Loren, Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway from the Bonnie and Clyde days, as well as Tom and Dick Smothers. And holy cow, The Rolling Stones, appearing quite baby-faced, were there, too!
“I believe you’re very cold, Katherine. Go over near the sommelier station.” Gloria motioned.
“All right,” Kate said, not exactly walking a straight line due to the Belvedere vodka in her drinks. “Where are you? Hmm—no, no. Wait, here you are. You’re with James Arness, right? From Gunsmoke? And the other fellow with the glasses is…?”
“That’s Mr. A.C. Nielsen, of the A.C. Nielsen marketing company. Our friend at ExitStrategy, yes? He was always such a gentleman. Even when I was having problems keeping my life together, I could always call him up and he would steer me gently. He was from Minnesota, too, but he was Danish, not Swedish like me. Lovely men—those two,” Gloria added wistfully.
“Well, this is all quite amazing, Miss Dunham.”
“Oh, let’s drop the formality. Please call me Gloria from now on.”
“And please call me Kate.”
“Well, actually you can’t be a Kate. A Kate has to be feisty, like Hepburn. You’re too nice, too polite for that. But you’re a pretty Katherine, I would say. Pretty, I suppose, but not beautiful. You have that Kansas look of yours, but maybe you should try using more makeup. Try to make more of some of your average features. Anyway, Katherine is the name I shall use for you. Do you mind?” Gloria flashed her sweetest smile. She snapped her fingers again and within two minutes, two more drinks appeared. She had The Pump Room waitstaff well trained.
“So, Gloria, tell me more about your first husband—a musician, you said?”
“Yes, conservatory trained, but he decided jazz was more for him. We were so young and he was so handsome. Of Spanish heritage, with lovely thick hair and mysterious eyes. All the women threw themselves at him.”
“But you got him.”
“Well yes, I did.” Gloria smiled proudly. “I was doing a lot of radio at the time and I was at a charity ball that all the actors from my show were attending. The Jimmy Dorsey band was playing for the event and I saw this gorgeous god of a young man with his shiny silver trumpet. Dorsey raved on and on to the audience about his new find, this trumpet player who had just left some fancy East Coast music conservatory to join the band. And then Dorsey featured him on the next tune. He picked up that shiny horn and dazzled us all, and I fell in love right then and there. I was dizzy in love, Katherine. I’m not kidding you. We were married within six months.”
“Wow, like right out of a fairy tale.”
“Yes, for a while. We decided to live in California and I would go back and forth—New York for radio and the movies out west. Unfortunately, Raimondo was pretty much living out of a suitcase with the band. It caused a lot of stress on the relationship. I begged him to settle in LA and return to classical, maybe play in the Philharmonic or do the Hollywood Bowl or something. We fought about all his traveling, but he loved jazz too much, and I guilted him about it. Sometimes things would get better, sometimes worse. And then I had my problem with the pills. At times the pills made me a monster. But sometimes not taking the pills was even worse.”
“Well, you just wanted to have a little love nest and be happy, right?” Kate asked as she swirled her drink, trying to prop up Gloria’s spirits.
“Yes, I did. And that’s why I agreed to finally stop nagging him and go see what the jazz life was really like. Go with him on a tour and enjoy the road life together. A little getaway to rekindle the romance. Of course, this was a small group. Ray had become a be-bopper and I wasn’t always happy with some of the types he was hanging out with. Lots of alcohol, drugs, you know. So we went on this tour and—”
“I’m sorry to barge in, Miss Dunham,” Tony said with his trademark bow. “You’ve got fans across the way. They’ve engaged me to ask if you’d sign an autograph for them.”
“Katherine, my eyes aren’t very good today. Do they look like nice folks?”
Kate smiled and nodded.
“Go over and invite them to our table here.”
Kate, again doing her best to walk in a straight line with all the alcohol she had downed, brought the three grinning fans over, all of them over seventy-five. Gloria chatted graciously with her devoted fans and then signed three Pump Room napkins for them. The three left after a while, smiling as they clutched their bounty.
“Now, Katherine, where were we?” Gloria asked.
“Your first husband—a trip with him and his jazz group.”
“Oh, yes.” Gloria’s lovely smile, so evident during the moments with her fans, gave way to a painful frown. “Actually, I’m tired of talking about the past. Let’s rejoin the present and talk about you and ExitStrategy. I’m sure you’re excited to be there, yes? It will take a while to figure things out—all that science, all of Mike’s gizmos. But you’ll be fine. I am, however, concerned about a few things at the company.”
“What sort of things?” Kate felt more and more woozy from the four martinis. She had always made a point of not drinking on an empty stomach, yet somehow here she was, doing it to keep pace with an old lady.
“Oh, just things in general. I am wondering if you could let me know, since I am a major shareholder, if you think there is anything I should be concerned about. Just look at me as the guardian angel of the company and please make sure Mike isn’t doing anything unwise. I actually have knowledge of an incident in the past where he was in dangerous waters. Illegal matters, believe it or not.”
“Really? That surprises me. Well, I’ll think about it. I don’t really know what else to say.” Except this, Old Lady—now I know for sure why you wanted to do lunch. You want me to be a mole, a spy for you? No way, no how.
“Consider it,” Gloria cooed, unaware of Kate’s disdain for the little trap she had tried to set. “I, for one, think that Mike makes plenty of mistakes and there is no one to point them out. After all of these years, he won’t listen to me.” Gloria frowned and shook her head for effect.
Wait… four strong Bloody Marys in fifty or sixty minutes on an empty stomach? She’s a little old lady and she still looks perfectly alert? Still doing her best to play me? How does she do that? She must weigh all of ninety pounds—what the heck?
“Well, I’m new on the job,” Kate said, remaining cool and not tipping her hand. “It would be difficult for me to tell him what to do, other than from a purely scientific viewpoint.”
“I understand, dear.” Gloria shrugged as she searched for something in her purse. “If you do see something at ExitStrategy that doesn’t seem right, just know that I’m available to you. You can talk to me discreetly whenever needed. Absolutely whenever. Oh, look at the time. I must be going now. There should be a timed cab out front waiting for me right now, I believe. Roberto will make sure the bill goes to my account. Stay and finish your creative drink. Pomegranate, was it? I’ve never tried such an unusual drink. You young people are quite into the exotic, I must say. I’ll have the staff help me down the stairs and out to the cab. Katherine, my dear, it was so good to talk to you today and get to know you better. Call me whenever you wish.” And with that little farewell speech, Gloria squeezed Kate’s hand ever so slightly, stood up, ambled slowly out of the restaurant toward the hotel lobby, and was gone.
“So good to get to know me?” Kate mumbled. She didn’t ask me anything about myself. It was all about her getting my guard down and trying to plant me as a spy at ExitStrategy. Suddenly an odd hunch came over Kate. She eyeballed Gloria’s fourth Bloody Mary, still sitting on the table half-full with gross lipstick stains on it. Kate picked up the glass and brought it to her nose, sniffing, then took a taste. Well damn, I’ve been played by a crazed old woman. There isn’t a trace of alcohol in this drink!
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