Chapter 24 #2
Sam had finally agreed to use the gold we’d brought back from Downieville, and work had resumed on the San Francisco Hotel as Father and I ran Bess’s Place.
As Sam’s wife, there was a newfound respect for me among the customers who came to eat and sleep, but Father kept a close eye on me and the children by day, and Sam and Paddy watched over us at night.
Though life had been busy and the days were long, I cherished the precious time Sam and I had in the evenings.
He had hung a partition in the room we shared with the children, and for an hour or so each night, it was just the two of us.
Nothing and no one else mattered. We did not discuss what might happen on my birthday, but it was never far from our minds.
In 1929, we were only two days away from the premiere of Little Women, and the cast had been called together for one last publicity photoshoot. Papa had been quiet all week, and whenever I tried to ask him about his mood, he would change the subject.
A photographer from Film Daily was taking pictures of the cast as they lounged on the set after production.
All of us were in our casual street clothes as we waited for Spencer, who was an hour late.
I hadn’t seen him for over three weeks, though the gossip magazines were still filling their columns with news of our breakup.
Spencer’s reputation had improved, for which I was grateful, and it seemed that our fake relationship had done what Mr. Mayer hoped.
Even with speculation buzzing about why we broke up, people still spoke highly of Spencer again.
“Ally.” Our producer, Cal, approached me. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Frowning, I turned away from the actress who had played Marmee. “Who is it?”
Cal leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “It’s L. B. Mayer.” My lips parted in surprise. “He’s in the conference room and asked to speak to you alone.”
“Does Papa know he’s here?”
Cal shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone else but you.”
“Please don’t say anything, Cal.”
He shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
I left the soundstage, hoping no one noticed I was missing, and made my way to the executive office building.
My heart was hammering as I opened the door and stepped inside.
What would cause L. B. Mayer to come all the way to our studio to talk to me alone?
Was it about Spencer, or was it about his offer?
It had been over a month since he’d made it, and I wasn’t even sure if it was still good.
I didn’t want to be obligated to him, but I also didn’t want to burn a bridge if Little Women was a flop and our family became desperate.
I needed more time.
The offices were quiet as I walked toward the conference room. Mr. Mayer stood at the window, looking outside. The sunset was brilliant as it lit up the sky over Hollywood.
“Can I help you, Mr. Mayer?” I asked as I walked into the room, my body trembling.
He turned, a big smile on his face. “Hello, Miss Bennett. It’s good to see you again.”
At least he wasn’t angry at me about Spencer.
I returned the smile, though I was certain I probably looked like a frightened animal.
Mr. Mayer was one of the most powerful and important people in Hollywood.
The fact that he had come to Bennett Studios to see me was astonishing.
“Is there something I can do for you?” I grasped the back of a chair. “Are you here because of Spencer?”
He paced away from the window. “No. Spencer is doing fine.”
I licked my dry lips, wishing I appeared more confident.
“I’m here for an answer, Miss Bennett. I don’t make serious offers and then expect to be ignored for six weeks.
” He moved closer. “And I never lower myself to beg.” He stopped and tilted his chin down to look at me.
“A thousand young women would kill to get the chance to work with me, and a million more would do anything to make the money I promised you. I don’t know why you would hesitate. ”
“I think you know why.”
He motioned to the room. “This? It’s going away faster than you think. Your father is so far in debt, Little Women will never get him out, and he won’t have enough money to make another film. It’s the simple truth.”
“Why did you loan Spencer to the film, then?”
“I needed you to help him.” He waved the problem aside. “This isn’t about Spencer. I want an answer from you right now, Miss Bennett. I plan to start working on Anna Christie soon, and I need a yes or no.”
I nibbled my bottom lip, knowing that if I said yes it would help my family, but it would kill Papa and I would hate it. My heart was no longer in Hollywood. Even if I stayed in 1929, I didn’t want to act anymore.
The truth was so obvious, I almost laughed with relief.
I was done making movies.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mayer. I appreciate the offer, but I will have to decline.”
He stared at me for a heartbeat and then shook his head. “You’re as stubborn and foolish as your father. It will be the ruin of this family. And because I never beg, I will not make the offer again.”
“There will be no need.”
Without another word, Mr. Mayer left the conference room.
I stared at the opposite wall as I tried to calm my breathing. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life? Or had I finally done what I should have done years ago? Taken control of my life.
I left the office building and made my way back to the soundstage. Though there were still so many unanswered questions and so much was hanging in the balance, my heart felt lighter knowing I didn’t have to consider Mr. Mayer’s offer anymore.
If I stayed in 1929, I wanted to pursue teaching. I loved it in my other path, and it was the thing I was born to do. I knew that now.
But it was more important than ever that Little Women succeeded.
When I stepped into the soundstage, Papa was waiting for me. “Finally. Where did you go? Spencer has been here for ten minutes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Despite my best attempts to be unaffected, my stomach still did a little somersault when I saw Spencer talking to Vicky. He was just as suave and confident as always, flashing a big smile, as if nothing had happened.
“There’s Ally,” someone said from the set.
With a passing glance, he hardly acknowledged me and then returned his attention to Vicky.
I wanted to be upset at Spencer, to still be angry that he tried to use me, but the truth was, our agreement was over, and he didn’t owe us anything. But he was here. He had shown up, even when he didn’t need to.
“Let’s get these pictures taken,” Papa said as he nodded at the photographer.
“Everyone should continue to look casual as you chat with Mr. Hayes,” the photographer said. “I’d like to get a group photo and then some individual ones with Miss Bennett and Mr. Hayes.”
I knew he meant me, but I wasn’t sure if I could look casual with Spencer.
Cal entered the soundstage as the photographer snapped pictures. His face was grim as he held a newspaper in hand. He clearly wasn’t coming with good news. I just hoped he wouldn’t tell Papa that Mr. Mayer had visited.
When he pulled Papa away, I watched Papa’s expression turn to surprise and then dread.
A few other people must have been watching because the set slowly went quiet as all eyes turned to Papa and Cal.
“What’s the trouble?” the photographer asked as he looked in the direction we were staring.
Cal said something to Papa and then handed him the newspaper before stepping back. Papa took a deep breath and approached the stage.
Was this about Mr. Mayer?
“What’s wrong, Grant?” Mama asked as she and Grace walked over to him.
No one made a sound as Papa stepped onto the set, looking like he had aged a decade in just minutes.
“I don’t know how to tell all of you this, but the stock market crashed again today.” He lifted the newspaper that Cal had given him. “The reports coming out of New York are dire. Over fourteen billion dollars were lost today alone. And it looks like it’s not getting better any time soon.”
The stock market had crashed several times that week, and though I didn’t understand much about it, it was all anyone had been talking about for the past few days.
Many wealthy families, like the Rockefellers, and leading national banks had tried to purchase enough stock to keep things afloat. Apparently, it hadn’t worked.
“What does that mean?” Vicky asked.
“It means that the economy is going to take a hit, and things are going to be tight for a while.” Papa sat on his canvas director’s chair, looking weak and defeated.
Mama reached for the newspaper to see for herself. “For how long?”
“There’s no way of knowing.” He shook his head. “The stock market has never crashed like this before. It could be months or even years.”
“Years?” Grace asked.
“People will still come to the movies,” Lydia said from the back of the room, her voice hopeful.
Papa shared a look with Mama, but neither of them answered.
“Will this affect the premiere?” I ventured to ask.
“No—at least, I hope not. Everything is set for November 1st.” Papa nodded at the photographer. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“I still need a few photos of Mr. Hayes and Miss Bennett.”
“Fine. Everyone else can head home. We’ll see you in a couple days at Grauman’s Theatre.”
There were murmurs of concern as everyone made their way outside, leaving Spencer and me alone on the stage with the photographer.
“I know we’ve just had a bit of bad news,” the photographer said to us, “but let’s try to pretend like nothing’s wrong so we can get the photos and be done, shall we?”
“Of course.” I nodded as Spencer walked across the stage to stand near me. “Where would you like us?”
“How about by the fireplace?”
We did as he asked, and I finally met Spencer’s gaze as we faced one another.
“Just chat casually,” the photographer said as he lifted his camera. “But make sure you smile.”
What in the world could we talk about that would look casual?
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then Spencer said, “How have you been, Ally?”
The truth was, I had been through a horrible experience in 1849 with the fire, but I could never tell him that. Instead, I said, “I’m fine.”
He waited for me to continue, but when I didn’t, he asked, “Anything new?”
I almost told him I was married, but he would never understand, so I simply said, “No.”
“Don’t forget to smile, Miss Bennett,” the photographer said.
I forced myself to smile.
“You’re not making this very easy,” Spencer tried to tease, but I saw discomfort in his eyes.
Thankfully, the photographer was far enough away, he wouldn’t be able to hear us as we spoke under our breath.
“I’m not going to apologize for being upset, Spencer. What you did to me was unacceptable.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You should have thought of that before you put me in such a dangerous situation. What if I had been there when the party was raided?”
“I would have explained to the feds why you were with me.” He studied me for a moment. “I warned you I end up hurting anyone who gets close to me.”
I frowned. “Is that supposed to excuse your poor behavior?”
“Miss Bennett . . .” the photographer warned.
I put the smile back on my face.
“No,” Spencer said, a mask of indifference rising like it had when I first met him. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone knows I’m no good.” He turned to the photographer. “Are we finished?”
The man sighed. “I suppose so.”
“See you around, Ally.” Without a backward glance, Spencer left the stage.
Tears stung my eyes again, but I couldn’t let him get to me. I had to focus my energy and attention on other things.
We were only five days away from my birthday, and I was no closer to knowing how things would play out.
If The Annals of San Francisco wasn’t back at the library in the next couple of days, I would have no choice but to drive to San Francisco and see if I could learn the truth about what would happen to me and Sam on November 3rd, 1849.