Chapter 18

"I ' m not sure this is a good idea," Nora explained, hurrying after Elsie, whose fur coat was billowing behind her.

Elsie didn't seem to hear.

"A building site can be dangerous. It's customary to have a visit cleared in advance."

"Oh, pooh," Elsie said good-naturedly. "I'm the designer. I need to feel the ambiance, the flow, the sense of it."

"I understand, but the interior walls aren't up yet." At least not on the upper floors, and the basement level was a maze

of pipes, electrical tubing, and heating ducts, and was dark as a cave. Nora had only seen it from a spot safely on the temporary

stairs.

Truth be told, she'd love to see the progress they'd made while she'd been drawing pictures of vases, armoires, and furniture

for Elsie. And now with talk about cataloguing and coordination, she might never get back.

She was nothing more than a lowly paid secretary who could draw a straight line. And now she would show up at the site in

her years-old coat next to Elsie's silk and fur.

It was humiliating.

When they reached the entrance to the club site, the temporary door was shut, the arched transom covered by a plank of wood.

But instead of going inside, Elsie walked out into the street.

"Miss de Wolfe! Elsie—" Nora warned.

Elsie waved her away. She stared up at the facade as traffic moved around her. She suddenly threw up her arms. "Isn't it glorious?"

It was, but not worth being trampled by horses or crushed by automobiles.

Finally, much to Nora's relief, Elsie returned to the sidewalk unscathed and pulled the door open.

Nora followed her inside, then jumped back as Elsie twirled in a graceful pirouette, her arms outstretched and the hem of

her fur coat brushing the floor. Nora wouldn't have been surprised to hear applause.

"Can you see it?" asked Elsie, not really asking Nora, but confirming her own expectations.

Actually, Nora could see it. Not in the same way as Elsie, with fountains and exotic vases, but as five floors of interior walls, plumbing, electricity.

All constructed with the latest methods. And she had to admit, it was pretty spectacular.

Several carpenters who were standing nearby were the first to notice them. Suddenly arrested in motion, they gaped at the

two newcomers. Across the room, workers stopped and stared. Nora could see George and Mr.Wojcik with one of the welders through

the open door of the construction office.

All three men looked up. George frowned, which changed to a look of surprise, and at last a smile.

Nora smiled back, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Elsie.

He groped for his jacket that lay across the back of a wooden chair and quickly slipped it on as he came forward. "May I help

you?"

"Good afternoon. I'm Elsie de Wolfe..." She paused, waiting for acknowledgment to register.

"Of course. Miss de Wolfe. Enchanté ." He leaned over her extended hand.

Nora resisted, barely, rolling her eyes.

Elsie opened her hands, indicating the space around them. "I'd love to view our new clubhouse."

George glanced at Nora. She gave him a hint of a shrug and left him to it.

Mr.Wojcik stepped out of the office and strode up to stand behind Nora.

"I'd be delighted to show you," George said. "Though you must be careful, a construction site can be a dangerous place."

"I shall hold on to your arm."

That did it. Nora rolled her eyes.

Someone snorted. Most likely Mr.Wojcik, since she seemed to be the only one who heard it.

George and Elsie started off. Nora turned to greet Mr.Wojcik, but they'd barely said hello before Elsie's "Nora!" pierced

the reunion.

"Excuse me." Nora hurried away.

When she reached Elsie and George, they were standing in the main area and George was pointing to where the terrace would

be.

"Nora, that's exactly where my fountain will go, close to the back wall..."

Nora flipped open her notebook and wrote it down. By the time she'd done a quick sketch with a note to check the dimensions

and the placement of the closest water conduit, the other two had moved on.

She hurried after them.

They had stopped at the set of rudimentary stairs leading down to the basement.

"But I must see the pool," Elsie was saying. "Stanny has told me all about it. I'm leaving for a buying trip soon and must make sure

that I know exactly what to get."

Buying trip already? She'd only just started to set up shop. Nothing was organized. Nora hadn't even rendered her a schemata with accurate dimensions.

Mr.Wojcik strode up at that moment and, seeing Nora's look of dismay, said, "Not sure the lady—ladies—oughta be going down

there right now."

"But I must," implored Elsie, hands clasped like a heroine right out of a melodrama.

The men exchanged looks. George appeared indecisive for about two seconds, then he reached over and unhooked the chain. He

picked up a heavy flashlight that hung by a rope. "We have limited lighting down there. We can't venture far." He took Elsie's

arm. "Careful now, watch your step."

Mr.Wojcik shook his head and motioned for Nora to follow. She heard the chain clank in place as soon as she was on the stairs.

The very dark stairs, she noticed, with the only light bouncing ahead of the two people in front of her.

She sighed, and felt her way after them. It wasn't her first trip to the basement. But with the flashlight casting shadows

against the girders and beams, Nora couldn't repress a shiver.

They stopped at the pool, heads together, as George explained that it was finished but had been covered for safety.

Nora tiptoed behind them. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

They both jumped and turned toward her, the light casting their faces into high relief. It gave Nora a fright.

"Oh, there you are," said Elsie. George seemed to have lost his voice.

"I was just saying to George..." She drew out his name like an accordion. "Stanny wrote me copious notes on the pool. And

we are très sympathique ."

Nora didn't bother to write the first part—Mr.White had left her the same notes—but she took the time to sound out tray simp a teek , and wrote it down.

"It is to be in the Greek style with lattice overhead. Entwined with grapevines. I shall hide thousands of little lights in

glass grapes. Oh, yes, I like that. Nora, we must have ample electricity."

Nora tucked her head. She didn't remember any mention of thousands of little lights.

"And mirrors," Elsie added, "along the walls." She peered into the darkness. "To illuminate and expand the brilliance. A nonpareil

among pools."

Another nonpareil , Nora thought, but now that she knew what it meant she didn't bother to write it down. Promises were great, but for Nora,

she would just wait and see.

George just stood there like an oaf.

When Elsie had imagined her lights to her heart's content, they went back upstairs, this time Nora leading the way. She didn't

need a flashlight, but she was extra careful not to trip. That would be too embarrassing.

Mr.Wojcik was waiting to let them out.

"And now the ballroom. I must see that before we go."

"The assembly room," Nora corrected, but no one was listening. George and Elsie forged ahead. Mr.Wojcik winked, offered Nora

his elbow, which she took, and they clomped up the stairs to the second floor together.

"Delightful," Elsie said, when they were all standing in the assembly room. "Just the right size, with an overhead gallery?"

"Yes," said George. "It will be..."

But Elsie had gone ahead. "And French windows. The drapes..." She trailed off. Then whirled suddenly to face them. "And

candelabra sconces between each window. Louis Seize . At least two dozen, maybe four."

Mr.Wojcik broke in. "They'll have to be converted to electricity, ma'am."

"Very well."

"Beggin' your pardon, but it's an expensive process."

"Well, I'll work it out with Stanny. We can always get them made to order. I know several artists who would gladly construct them to my measurements. I can see it now."

"But they wouldn't be authentic," Nora pointed out.

"What do we care for authenticity if a copy does just as beautifully? We'll not be slaves to the past, no marble, no gilt,

no dark paneling, just bright and clean and modern."

Nora winced and bent her head over her notebook, her cheeks flaming. George had wanted her to take this job. Well, now he

was seeing her in her subservient role. And to think, she'd just begun to like the dramatic Elsie. Today reminded her just

how the hierarchy lay.

Elsie finally agreed that they'd seen enough for one day. With many merci s and au revoir s to George and the men, and a gracious hand held out to Mr.Wojcik, Elsie took her leave. George saw them to the street,

and Nora and Elsie made their way back to their office, Elsie declaring she was aux anges and Nora plain old hopping mad.

She managed to make it all the way down the sidewalk without looking back. Was George still watching them?

But as they entered the building, she did risk a quick glance up the street. George still stood there watching them and looking

befuddled.

Well, good, he should be. Making a fool of himself over an actress. Didn't he know she treated all men that way? " Id ee oh ," she muttered, proud of herself for remembering what it meant.

No sooner had they returned to the office than Elsie, who had been rhapsodizing all the way back about the glories to come,

announced, "Well, I must run, dining at the Bellinghams' tonight."

Once Elsie was gone, Nora huffed a sigh, returned her coat to the peg, and sat down at her desk. But instead of copying her notes from the site visit, Nora stared out the window. She had to admit, Elsie's ideas, though fanciful, did have a certain rationale to them. It would cost a fortune, though she supposed that didn't really matter overmuch to the rich ladies for whom the club was being built.

She had no doubt it would be beautiful.

Still, it was hard not to let a bit of resentment niggle its way into her heart. Why did a few have so much when so many did

without? It didn't seem fair. "Especially when you are one of the many," she muttered to herself.

She turned from the window, looked at the blank wall beside her desk. Maybe she would bring her copy of her hospital design

to put on the wall to remind her that there were other projects besides the Colony Club waiting for her—if she played her

cards right.

"Are you busy?"

Nora jumped at his voice.

George poked his head in the door. He was wearing a woolen winter coat and held a homburg between his fingers.

It took her a moment to recover. "If you're looking for Miss de Wolfe, I'm afraid she had other engagements and has left for

the day."

He burst out laughing.

Not the reaction she'd been expecting or had hoped for.

"Are you going to invite me in?"

"Certainly." She gestured him inside.

He stepped in and glanced around the room.

"Nice setup."

"MissMarbury arranged for it."

"And much warmer than the one we have."

She didn't think that warranted an answer, so she didn't give one.

"Oh, come on, Nora, what's up?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

His smile wavered a bit. "You hardly said a word when I was taking the decorator around, and now you're acting like someone's secretary."

"I am someone's secretary."

His expression changed. "That's it, isn't it? You're still mad about being assigned this project."

"Am not."

"Then come have tea with me. Mrs.Tova has been asking where you are."

She meant to decline, but her stomach growled, and Mrs.Tova made splendid pies.

"Come on. My treat."

"You didn't pay her last time."

"She has a generous heart. Where's your coat?"

He looked around, found it on a peg behind the door, and snatched it off. She watched as he held it out for her to put on

and her resolve withered. It was the polite thing to do—any gentleman would do the same, but for some reason the fact that

it was George made her feel embarrassed.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I wouldn't dare." He gave the coat a little shake. She gave in and turned for him to slip it over her shoulders.

"All right, I'll have tea."

"That's my girl."

She darted a glance at him. It sounded like something a father would say. George Douglas wasn't that much older than she was.

"You're paying."

"Of course, didn't I say? My treat."

"I mean, really, to Mrs.Tova."

"I'll insist. Though she'll put up a fight." His smile broke her willpower and made her feel a little silly. She'd been mad at George for paying so much attention to Elsie, fawning over a woman who must be twice his age, no matter how young she tried to act. And Nora suddenly realized that the anger she was feeling toward them both wasn't anger at all, but jealousy.

She closed her eyes, let out a long breath. Nora Bromley, act your age. This is strictly professional. "Shall we go?"

She walked out of the office, then stopped when George followed her. "I wonder if I'm supposed to lock up or something."

"We'll ask the porter."

The porter assured them he would lock up and off they went.

Out in the air again, Nora's hunger ratcheted up a notch.

Mrs.Tova hurried out to meet them. "I'd quite given you up. Hello, Nora, we've missed you—haven't we, Georgie?"

George grimaced.

Nora grinned. "I've been... busy."

"Too busy to eat? You have to keep your strength up if you're going to keep this ragtag bunch of construction workers in order."

"Thank you, Mrs.Tova," said George, looking chagrined. "Didn't you say you were making lamb stew today?"

Mrs.Tova winked at Nora and hurried away.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing. She likes you."

"I like her, too," Nora said, and they lapsed into an awkward silence.

Finally George leaned forward. "What were you doing at the site today?"

"I told her it wasn't a convenient time to bother you."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

"You ran around three steps behind us like you were the paid help."

"I am the paid help."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. I've been gotten out of the drafting room and put on lackey duty. No more distracting the draftsmen."

"That is such bull—and you know it."

"Really? You saw what my duties were. Candelabra. Yes, ma'am. Twinkly lights. Got it. Can you feel the ambi-antz ? Well, actually I could, and it was all concrete and steel and plumbing and electrical wiring. Not twinkly lights."

"Oh, Nora, grow up."

That stung. Her eyes pricked. She'd grown up years ago. First when her brother died, then her father, when everything fell

apart except for her chance to fulfill her promise to them and save her family. Now she was stuck off somewhere—a wonderful

somewhere, she had to admit—just so the men wouldn't have to deal with her. And she was failing everything.

"I shouldn't have come." She started to rise, but he reached across the table and pushed her back down.

"I know this isn't what you wanted to be working on, but most people don't get to choose their projects. We all wanted to

work on Grand Central, and look how that turned out—the extra draftsmen they hired for the competition have been let go. You're

still here. A credit to you, but also to luck that you were in the right place at the right time."

"Lucky to be copying down notes about twinkly lights and candelabras while Miss de Wolfe flits about like a fairy making castles

in the air."

Castles in the air. In the real world, imagination died and castles disappeared. Nora would never be seduced by that kind of thinking again.

"It's going to be a constant struggle for you, Nora, for any woman trying to break into this business. But if you succumb

this soon, where will you be?"

Nora looked away, not wanting to face his question or her own insecurities.

George took her hand the same way he had that day in his office. "It's important to know how to coordinate the interiors. All that talk about her fountains and mantels and sconces. It may sound silly, but her ideas are sound.

"Unless we are born into society or wealth like White and the others, most of us never get enough education in that aspect

of architecture. You have an opportunity to learn from her. And she will be dependent on you to make sure her creativity fits

to specs or they'll go on the trash heap, and we'll all be in big trouble. Especially Mr.White.

"We're all depending on you to make this work. And if you do, you'll know exactly what to do for the next project. And while

she's off on buying trips, you'll have more time at the site and to work on your own projects. I assume you have been?"

She hadn't been. She'd been so angry at Elsie, George, Mr.White, her family for not being patient, her roommates for being

sloppy—everyone, including herself.

"Your job is to make sure everything fits and has the proper outlets, and to talk her out of things that won't work."

"But I want to be working on buildings."

"Then work on your hospital, or a school, or whatever interests you, so you'll be ready when the time comes. God knows you

wouldn't have that opportunity if you were working in the drafting room or the field all day."

The barb hit home, and she knew he wasn't just talking about her. "Oh, George, is that what's happening? You're stuck running

around keeping all these projects working when you could be building your own?"

"Nora, you have to have clients to commission your designs. Hopefully one day, I will have built enough of a reputation with

McKim, Mead, and White that I will attract my own commissions. And so will you."

"Here it is, nice and hot." Mrs.Tova's voice broke into the conversation and their hands sprang apart as if they'd touched

the hot bowls of stew.

Mrs. Tova beamed at both of them. "I will bring bread. Eat, eat."

And they ate, until Nora was stuffed and feeling warm and slightly sleepy. But it was getting late and she had to get back

to the fourth floor and Higgie's French flash cards. And try not to let on that she'd had tea with George. That would raise

some eyebrows, whether deservedly or not. What would they think? Nora didn't even know what to think. Or how she felt.