All That Glitters Read Free

finished dressing. The simple, comfortable clothes she’d worn on the trip were safely tucked away. She applied her familiar deep red lipstick. Makeup highlighted her dark eyes. She wore a black belt cinched around her waist, accentuating the flowered dress’s broad-shouldered style. A complementary green hat, tilted to one side. She’d transformed herself into the beauty the whole nation, not just New York, would soon adore.
    She finished packing with her back to the window. “Darling, are you going to be okay with…well, with the attention I might receive?”
    Her Broadway fame never bothered me. With a rough childhood, an absent mother, and a drunken father who used to backhand her until Gino and Danny helped me teach him a lesson, she deserved all the adulation she had coming to her.
    Ignoring the reporters, I swept my arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. I intended to enjoy every minute of her success and the attention that went with it. “I’ll attend whatever parties you want me to. I’ll be on the set whenever…”
    “Oh, Jake.” Laura turned in my arms. “About you being on the set.”
    “You don’t want me around?”
    She straightened my tie. “It’s not that, it’s just…I might be too nervous in the beginning with experienced actors and crew. You understand, don’t you, darling?”
    As much as I wanted to see her act in her first movie, I understood. “I promise I won’t come onto the set until you invite me.”
    Laura squeezed my hands. “You’re making a lot of promises.”
    I intended to keep every one. I set my fedora on my head and slipped a comforting arm around her waist. “Come, dear. Hollywood awaits.”
    The reporters moved toward the train as it came to a stop. Laura set her hands on her hips. “Damn it, you’re being protective again. I can handle the press.”
    She was right, of course, but old habits were hard to break. I opened the compartment door, and she stepped into the corridor. I flagged down our favorite porter, Willie. After tipping him to carry our suitcases and retrieve the rest of our luggage, I followed Laura toward the exit.
    In the doorway, the heat of the June breeze swept over me and stirred Laura’s hair.
    “Mr. Donovan!” the reporters shouted at once. “Do you have a statement to make?”
    A reporter in back called me by my first name. “What gives, Jake?”
    Me? A statement?
What had I done to merit such attention? No one recognized me on the train, so why the third degree from these guys?
    Questions drowned out questions. Laura laughed, stepped aside, and nudged me down the steps. I couldn’t believe they weren’t here to interview her.
    Bulbs flashed as I helped Laura down. She appeared as surprised as I was about the interest in me.
    The reporter who called me by my first name nudged his way to the front. With his suit’s coat draped over one shoulder, he wore a long-sleeve white shirt, tweed vest, and a straw hat with a red-and-black silk headband. His familiar handlebar mustache made him appear as if he was a member of a barbershop quartet.
    I shook Pat Lonigan’s hand. “Pat, what’s this all about?”
    “You kidding? The New York papers, that business with the banks and Roosevelt. They say there’ll be a congressional investigation into a plot against the government. Come on, Jake, give it to me straight. What role did you play in preserving our democracy?”
    Even to an old pal, and especially to a reporter, I couldn’t reveal what Laura and I and a few other friends did to stop the fascist plot.
    The arrival of a Broadway actress about to star in her first Hollywood picture hadn’t gone as I’d expected. Determined to stay in Laura’s shadow, I raised both hands. “Fellas, I’m afraid for once the New York papers got things wrong.”
    The reporters laughed.
    I decided to appear like a pompous, self-absorbed writer. I’d rubbed shoulders with enough to perform a reasonable imitation. “One day I may write a book about