by Judy Kundert
While she watched him drop ice into a glass of water, it occurred to her that he might be the perfect person to interview. Hm, and his name is Angelos. That’s almost like an angel. Is that an omen? She whipped out her notebook and pen.
Angelos handed her a tall tumbler of water with ice that clinked against the crystal glass. “I have to get back to work. But you can stay here a bit longer.”
Katherine’s hand shook as water slipped over the rim of the chilled glass. “Thank you, but I should get back to the party. I don’t want to get you into trouble, you’ve been so pleasant. But could I ask you for one more favor?”
The soft scent of garlic butter floated in the air. Turning her nose in the direction of the scent, which was a sizzling plate of escargot resting on a nearby table.
Angelos reached for the plate and offered it to Katherine.
She ran her tongue over her lips. Her stomach said yes, but her head said no.
“Oh, no, thank you. Hey, will I get you in trouble? Is that your boss staring at us?”
Angelos glanced at the annoyed maître d’. “I told him you’re Mr. Hefner’s friend. He said it’s okay for you to stay here for a while, but I’d better get moving.” He paused. “Will you be okay? Let me know if I can do anything for you.”
“I’m a journalism student, and I’m writing an article about the Playboy Mansion and this event. When you have time, could I interview you? I’ll be quick. Can you spare two minutes?”
Angelos smiled. “I’m a student too. I’m not sure why you’d interview me, but I’d love to.”
Katherine grabbed a pen from her purse. She twisted on the stool, hoping to summon a question. “Great. You understand then. I have many questions, but I’ll just ask one. Okay?”
Angelos glared at the scowling maître’ d’ then back at Katherine. He rubbed his chin. “One question is fine. Then, why not give me your phone number? You can ask me more questions later.”
I already got myself in trouble with Dominick … but what choice do I have? She scribbled her name and number and handed a tattered page to Angelos. He tucked it in his pocket and smiled.
Why didn’t I write a fake name and number? Katherine cursed herself. I’m not interested in him.
“Okay,” she said. Since Angelos had a charming accent, Katherine wanted to ask about his home country. Instead, she stayed with her fake story about the Playboy Mansion and the press party. “I bet lots of guys are jealous of you with this job at the Playboy Mansion. How did you find this plum job?”
Angelos faced turned red, and he gave her a half smile as he answered with a thick accent. “Well, I’m from Athens, but I have lots of Greek relatives who live in Chicago. One of my uncles knows lots of Playboy Club members.” He chuckled. “I think it’s what you say, ‘It’s who you know, not what you know’.”
Katherine jumped off the chair and squealed. “Athens!” She put her hands to her mouth. “My best friend and I are taking a trip to Athens. We’re leaving tomorrow. I’m so excited about seeing everything there, especially the Oracle of Delphi.”
Angelos winked. “Is there room in your suitcase for me to hop in and go with you?” He lifted his chin. “I spent my summers as a tour guide on Mount Parnassus. I know secrets about the Sanctuary of Apollo.” He sighed. “I miss my family.” He paused and smiled. “Please call on my parents. They love having visitors from America for dinner.”
Katherine hesitated. What a neat idea to have dinner in a local’s home, but Angelos was a stranger. A kind stranger so far, but he could be anyone. Her brow moistened again. She imagined Emma Jean’s chiding and finger pointing as she screamed, “Darlin, he’s a stranger. You don’t know his family. Just think of the mess with another dark-haired stranger.”
Katherine searched for a polite answer. “That will be super, but we’re on a prearranged tour.”
Angelos grinned. “You can meet them when they come to visit me. My parents are part owner of my uncle’s Greek restaurant in Greek Town.” He winked and continued. “They’re coming over to check in on their investment.”
Katherine envisioned sizzling saganaki and licked her lips. “Thank you. I love Greek food.”
“I’ll call you. And you can tell me all about your trip, too.”
He nodded toward the door. “Since you’re Hefner’s friend, you can stay as long as you want.”
Katherine raised her hand to her mouth and whispered. “Sorry to bother you. Does this kitchen have more exits?”
“No, just a fire escape, and we’re on the third floor.”
Katherine sighed as Angelos left the kitchen. Before she could muster the courage to get up from the stool, she spotted two waiters rushing from the kitchen’s revolving door into the dining room. Like Buckingham palace’s changing of the guard, the Bunny who she’d seen talking with Dominick dashed through the revolving door into the kitchen.
For a hands-offs Bunny policy, she was acting pretty close with Dominick, like more than just friends. Katherine gulped and snatched up a nearby copy of the Chicago Tribune. She lifted it high enough to watch the Bunny move around the kitchen. With typical Playboy Bunny finesse, the young woman sashayed through a drooling crowd of servers and chefs. With Bunny pizzazz and a standard Bunny dip, she waved her manicured hand over an array of desserts on the silver-serving tray. She selected two brownies and nibbled on one as she walked toward Katherine.
“Howdy, Katherine. What are you doing in here? Dom’s hunting for you and Charlotte just asked me if I’d seen you.”
Katherine lifted the cool tumbler against her cheeks and put a finger to her lips. “Shh, I had a minor accident in the ballroom, so this friendly waiter brought me in here to put myself together.” Katherine cocked her head. “How did you know about me, Dominick, and Charlotte?”
The statuesque blonde put one hand on her hip and the other well-manicured one on her well-endowed breast. “Well, Dominick is a good friend. Charlotte happened to walk by when Dominick asked me if I knew you. They are both looking for you.” She offered a hand to Katherine. “I’m Debbie. It’s nice to meet you.”
Debbie put her hand on Katherine’s shoulder and stared into her face. “Okay, sweetie. You’d better get back to Dom soon. And I should tell Charlotte where you are.”
“Oh, no. I’ll be okay. I need a break from all the action. Do you need a break?”
Debbie pulled up another stool and smiled. “You have no idea how much I wanted to escape tonight. If anyone asks me, I’ll say I had to help you. Shouldn’t I go tell Dom that you’re in here?”
Katherine scanned her face. She appeared genuine. “I’m not with Dominick. I met him on my flight the other night, but he’s not my friend. Are you a friend of his?”
Debbie smiled. “Wow. I sorta liked you before because you’re Charlotte’s roommate, but now … well, I’ve always had a crush on that guy. And I was jealous that you might have a thing with Dominick when I saw him getting close to you in the ballroom. I know who he is and who his father is, but he’s different.”
Katherine’s heart pounded, and she put her hands on her chest. She had a solution. “We can work together.”
Debbie wrinkled her brow. “Do you want to be a Bunny? I wanted to be a stewardess, but I failed the first interview.”
Katherine took another glimpse at Debbie. She looked like a corn-fed girl from Nebraska with that natural, platinum blonde hair, and those sapphire blue eyes that didn’t need those false eyelashes.
“No. I meant we might work something out with you and Dom.” Katherine smiled and laughed. “Now that you mention it, I always thought it might be fun to be a Bunny.” Katherine paused and envisioned a full load of passengers. They didn’t compare with the glamorous and famous people mingling in the ballroom. She chuckled. “I’m ready to be a Bunny for a night. Why not?”
Debbie squealed. “How cool. I’m a stewardess for a night. I love your dress. But I’d like to wear your classic blue uniform.”
Katherine shook her
head. Her blue suit couldn’t even compare with a Playboy Bunny suit. The idea occurred to her. “Hey,” Katherine said to Debbie, “since you want to be with Dom, and I want to be polite and not just avoid him, let’s switch places.”
Debbie moaned. “Well. I need to keep my Bunny job. I love living in the mansion. I only pay fifty dollars a month for rent. There’s always a party. I meet celebrities and people from all over. I don’t want to go back to be a receptionist.”
Katherine took another look at her. She’s shapelier than me, but we are the same size. “Let me explain. Charlotte got an okay from the club’s publicity coordinator for me to come to this party to write a story. Do you know the promotion coordinator? Is she here tonight?”
“Yeah. Everyone knows that woman. She’s the one who can make you famous or nothing. I talked with her before I came in here. Do you want to be a centerfold?”
Katherine rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if her father would burn the centerfold picture or swear to never speak to her for months or maybe years. “No, I don’t think I’d make much of a centerfold, but I thought she might help us. Since I’m a journalism student who’s trying to write an article about the Playboy Mansion.” Katherine felt like either a real actress or a good liar. “If I explain to her how trading places with you would make a great story, she might go for it. And you might receive good points with her for helping me. You might even be a star.”
Debbie beamed. “Let’s do it! I’ll find her now. If she says yes, you have to work my whole shift.”
Katherine waved at Debbie who dashed out the revolving kitchen door. She released a silent giggle. Boy, I am an intelligent girl. I wonder if I’ll be a Bunny for a night?
Within minutes, Debbie flew through the revolving door and rushed over to Katherine. “She said yes and loved the idea and thought it would make an interesting story since there are all kinds of reporters writing and interviewing the guests. She only said yes because you’re Charlotte’s roommate and probably know how to act like a Bunny. Of course, you’ll have to be cautious and not get caught doing anything out of order. Act like a smart Bunny and stay calm. She said to tell you if you do anything wrong, Charlotte may suffer the consequences.”
Katherine flung her hands over her face, wondering what she’d done. She didn’t want to write any article about the Playboy party and especially not one with a Bunny-for-a-night angle. And what about Charlotte if she messed up? Would she get fired? Hey, a Bunny isn’t any sexier than a stewardess. Most airlines want stewardess dressed like Bunnies, so I can do the job. But that article will remain an untold, unwritten story.
“I’m supposed to stay until 2:30,” Debbie informed her. “After that, we change into our swimming suits and mingle with party guests. Many of them stay around to hang out at the pool with us.”
“Okay, but I won’t be swimming. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m hopping a plane for a trip to Europe. My girlfriend … ” Katherine paused. Golly, I have to get a message to Emma Jean. I’ll surprise her when I find her mingling in the party. “Hey, I’ve got your shift covered. Go have fun with Dominick.”
Debbie’s eyes grew into large round circles. “Wow. European vacations. I’d like to be a real stewardess. Not just for a night.”
Katherine and Debbie hugged. Debbie had found a way to experience a life out of her Bunny suit, and Katherine had procured a date for Dominick. She sighed. I’ll never see him again.
Following Debbie’s directions to a place where she could change into the Bunny costume, Katherine slipped out the kitchen’s side door to a small supply closet. With one small overhead light, Katherine examined herself in a dusty mirror. She cocked her head to the left and right and watched the Bunny ears wave with her motion. Her wavy blonde hair and emerald green eyes were a beautiful match for Debbie’s forest-green satin Bunny suit. Patting her Bunny tail, she released a deep breath and opened the closet door to the ballroom. She was ready to be Bunny Katherine for a night until she heard a familiar voice shout her name.
“Katherine! What are doing?” Charlotte grabbed her arm. The two friends stared eye to eye in frozen silence.
Katherine’s heart missed a beat, but her mind rushed to the rescue. “I’m working on the ‘story’ about the Playboy press party. I came up with this smart undercover idea. Oh, and don’t worry, your publicity coordinator gave me and your friend Debbie a green light to switch roles.” She gulped and winked. “Don’t I look fantastic?”
Charlotte shook her head and laughed. “Yep.” She paused. “But you know that you may be stuck with actually writing an article. Well, have fun on your secret gig. And you and Emma Jean have a blast in Greece. We’ll have to catch up later.”
Right then, Katherine’s mind was bursting with excitement for her European vacation, so any worries about writing a real article slipped into Katherine’s dark pit of never-mind-right-now. “Thanks. I’ll send a few postcards. Wish you were coming along with us.”
As the two young women gave each other a hug, Katherine noticed Danny O’Brien’s Irish eyes smiling toward Charlotte.
7
STREAMS OF SWEAT FLOWED over the young black boy’s face while Danny O’Brien cheered over the ropes. His heart pounded in rhythm with the howling crowd. He wanted to shout instructions but bit his tongue. His boy was on his own. He taught all he could. Now this was Luther’s moment to shine.
Luther, the swarmer, overpowered his opponents with his boxing skill. Danny mimicked Luther as he bobbed and weaved. An instinctive rhythm moved Luther’s feet from left to right while he coordinated his jabs at his opponent’s weak spots. Swish, swish, his hands whistled with each blow, slamming his opponents as they bent and bowed to the master. Then, Luther stood his ground to move with his power-heavy cross hit. Like a maestro orchestra conductor, Luther finished his victory with a sneak hook straight from the hip to land the final defeating punch. Like Danny instructed him, Luther bent down to shake his vanquished opponent’s hand while he breathlessly rested on the rope. Danny’s eyes glistened as he howled while the crowd cheered on his protégée.
Danny raised his fist to the ceiling and danced a jig. He checked the Silver Gloves schedule. He switched between laughing and smiling; he was so thrilled Luther had advanced to the final prizefight. He loved this more than any paying job. If he could keep one kid out of trouble and show him there were better places for him, he could sleep in peace and rise with a smile each day.
Boxing provided Luther with a sneak peek into a new world, with a couple of hours a week at St. Andrews away from Cabrini-Green’s public housing. He wanted to see Luther become the next Mohammed Ali after he finished high school and graduated from college. And he hoped maybe his Irish luck would get him a scholarship.
He and his brother still laughed when they remembered the first set of boxing gloves their dad had given them. At ten, Danny was short and skinny. Kids made fun of him. The bigger guys pushed him into lockers. At lunch, even the girls took his food and threw it in the trash. But when he and his brother sparred with each other, Danny grew desperately hungry, and the more food he ate, the bigger and stronger he got and, soon, he became a skilled fighter. Danny’s victories grew like spring blossoms. He won fighting matches against his brother, kids in school, and competitors in the ring.
Luther ran over to Danny for a towel and a swig of water. “Did you see me? I’m a contender!” He paused and asked, “Could I be the next Mohammed Ali?”
“You bet, kid,” Danny said, nudging his protégé on the shoulder. “Now take a shower. We’ll talk later.”
As Danny walked toward the parking lot, he lifted his chest to catch a breath. He smiled and whispered, “Mom, even if I didn’t become a priest, I’m helping my fellow man.”
Danny pulled out of St. Andrews’ parking lot. He maneuvered his red Mustang GT 350 Fastback around the turns on Lakeshore Drive to Wrigleyville. He opened every window to welcome the evening spring air drifting off Lake Michigan. He smiled at the
thought of tonight’s game between the Cubs and the Reds. He wanted to give himself a pat on the back for doing a good deed. Tonight, watching his favorite team counted as the best reward for his act of kindness.
Parking off Addison Street, Danny gave himself a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror and grinned an approval.
At the entrance of the Cubby Bear Lounge, the odors of stout and ale drifted out to the street. Meeting his brother at the Cubby Bear before a Cubs game was a tradition, starting when Patrick took them for a “first” beer at twenty-one.
Danny spotted Patrick at the bar with two of his attorney friends. His brother waved and pointed to the empty chair next to him. “Hey, coach, your chilled Bud is now the temperature of warm piss.”
Danny nudged his brother’s shoulder and grabbed the mug. “I’m cool. I don’t want anything to put a jinx on Fergie Jenkins, not even that Billy Goat. His hard slider might turn into a slow ball.”
Patrick, his buddies, and Danny clinked mugs and cheered. “Cubs! Cubs!”
Danny looked up to the bar’s top shelf lined with Guinness Bottles. He slipped his hand into his pocket rubbed his Leprechaun Lucky McCool. Danny raised his chilled mug and gave McCool another squeeze for the Cubs.
Patrick smiled. “Hey, how was your first day at the club?” He paused and turned to his friends. “Guess what? My little brother works at the Playboy Club and Mansion as a bouncer. Anytime you gents want to visit Hef’s place, just ask me, and I can arrange it.”
“That’s right. Paddy got me the job, and it’s the best. A few nights ago, I got to work the Playboy Club Press Party. It overflowed with press, celebrities, gorgeous Bunnies, and—”
Patrick interrupted with a shout. “Stop. Didn’t I tell you not mix with or touch the Bunnies? You’re a working stiff; don’t mess with the merchandise.”
