Magnet & Steele

by Trisha Fuentes

  Taking a second, Nancy took it all in, the Italian accent, his sensuous body movement, his kissable lips as he spoke. She turned to take a look back at the booth where Kelly was once sitting and noticed her friend ignoring their steamy interlude. Kelly had been engrossed in her own conversation with another boy and Nancy was free from judgment.

  “I’m Nancy,” she uttered freely.

  Angelo smiled, “Nice to meet you Nancy.”

  Nancy nearly melted; he had such white straight teeth too! “What picture do you have?”

  Angelo continued to stare into her green eyes, “Picture?”

  When he finally remembered why he was there in the first place, he took out a folded black and white photo that had been cut from a newspaper. “This one,” he said, handing her the photograph.

  Nancy took a quick look at it, “Oh,” she said, taking the photo away from him. “This was when I won Daffodil Queen…You…you were there, weren’t you?” She asked, trying to disguise any real interest in him.

  Angelo grinned again, “Yes,” he agreed, gazing around him and then nodding at his friends who were now questioning. “Nancy, is there somewhere we can speak alone?”

  “Speak?”

  “Yes, speak, talk…alone, my friends, your friends, they’re all looking at us now.”

  Nancy was hesitant as an unknown fear spread through to her skin; the damnation of others was so unfamiliar and foreign to her, she wanted to keep talking to him, but where? Definitely not there and Nancy shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.” She then scanned the establishment and practically everyone was staring at them now, even Stanley, the owner of the malt shop.

  Angelo turned around; his friends too were interested as well. He crammed his hands down his front pant pockets in indecision, any moment now he would have to seize her. “I have an idea,” Angelo whispered towards her ear. “I work at Luccardi’s Diner down on Harbor Avenue. Will you meet me there? Sei? Six? OK, six?”

  Nancy nearly expired at that moment, the warmth from his closeness and the gentle breeze from his breath on her neck sent chills up and down her spine. What was it exactly? She wondered. Nancy couldn’t understand the attraction and the pull towards this absolute stranger. She took a step backwards; she too had this overwhelming desire to lay hands on him. “Yes,” she agreed before she had time to really think about the consequences.

  Angelo smiled again, “See you at six then.”

  *****

  Later that evening, Nancy sat silent at her wardrobe desk brushing her hair; she was getting ready for a date with none other than that big-headed boor. “I can’t believe my father is making me go through another date with what’s-his-face,” Nancy said back to her reflection. She took a quick look over at her clock. “Oh my God! It’s almost six!”

  Along the extensive winding staircase, Nancy ran down the steps and out her front door. She ran down the street and past every house and every lane and turned the corner to run down another road. She ignored a neighbor’s friendly wave and worked her way towards the shopping square on Harbor Avenue until she finally stopped cold.

  She was suddenly caught off guard by a passerby who had been smoking a cigarette just outside the neighborhood butcher shop. Nancy felt a little strange from the way he just kept staring at her. With her head turned to her side she began to walk askew and passed him on the way to Luccardi’s when all of a sudden, he snapped a picture of her with the camera he had around his neck!

  With the cigarette still dangling at the edge of his mouth, he expressed, “You’re a real dish.”

  Nancy turned around completely and stood there in surprise, nothing had ever happened like that to her before! She was truly warmed by his compliment. “Thank you.”

  He took out the cigarette from his mouth and then flicked it onto the street with his fingertips with a snap. “Have you ever thought about modeling? I could get you some still work by tomorrow. We need product girls all the time.”

  Nancy was taken-back, “Me…A model?”

  “Toots, with your looks and your figure, you could even become a movie-star. Did you know that Jean Harlow was discovered by Fox execs just sitting in her car?”

  “Yes,” Nancy said, shaking her head, “I read that in Look Magazine.”

  “That’s right, that’s right—I wrote that article.”

  “You did?” Nancy asked, totally astonished now and in awe, she felt like she was actually talking to a movie-star!

  “Listen,” he said, looking across the street. “I don’t have much time. I’m due to meet someone across the street, but here’s my card. My name is Harold Manestry and I’m a journalist for Look. Give my secretary a call, make an appointment on Monday. I’m meeting with the head of MGM next week and I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

  Nancy just stood there with her mouth wide open. MGM? Her, a movie-star? “OK,” she just nodded, taking the card from him.

  “I’m going to show another casting agent friend of mine the photo I just took of you, if you don’t mind. I’m almost positive he’s gonna wanna meet you too. You’re some looker!” He let go, praising her again.

  Nancy just smiled and then remembered why she was there on the sidewalk in the first place. She was on her way to see Angelo and it was probably already past six o’clock! “Nice to meet you mister—”

  “Manestry. Mr. Harold Manestry, give me a call, OK? I mean it, I’m not trying to pull the wool over your eyes, this is serious, do it, give me a call on Monday.”

  “Yes, Mr. Manestry, yes I will—thank you.” And with that, Nancy watched the gentlemen cross the street to meet another man who had been patiently waiting for him on the other side. She then turned in the opposite direction and headed towards Luccardi’s.

  Walking on cloud nine, her future didn’t seem so bleak and was now filled with so many possibilities. She had just met the man of her dreams and now she might even become the next Jean Harlow? Having just been ‘discovered’ by a professional writer, no less…hadn’t Lana Turner been discovered just sitting on a booth at Schwab’s? Could she be the next undiscovered talent? On the cover of not only Look Magazine, but Harper’s Bazaar, Picturegoer, Photoplay, Picture Show maybe even LIFE?

  With her chest moving up down trying to catch her breath, she stood on the sidewalk just outside Luccardi’s Diner and smiled as she caught hold of Angelo working through the window. She watched him from afar as he cleaned off one of the tables, he was so handsome, she just couldn’t believe that she actually met him and then, and on cue, Angelo looked up at Nancy and smiled; waved hello. Yes, life looked too good at the moment and her heart expanded with so much glee.

  They gathered at the entrance but said nothing further; no words could express what they were actually thinking. His look was empowered and he appeared more attractive to her than ever before! Wearing a stained apron full of spaghetti sauce, oils and grime from the manual labor he endured throughout the day, his hair was all mussed up and hanging in his face but yet Angelo Magetti was unrivaled in looks and she’d never seen a man more sensuous in simplicity.

  “Nancy,” Angelo finally spoke up, “I’m sorry. I have to work a double shift tonight; I won’t be able to take you out.”

  Nancy let go a weak smile, “Oh, that’s all right Angelo; I have to be somewhere else tonight as well. That’s why I came here really, to let you know.”

  He grabbed her hand, “Till next time?” He said, placing a kiss on the front of her knuckles. Their eyes lock and hold and Nancy nearly expired at that moment by his simple touch on her hand.

  A few seconds later and out of breath once again, Nancy ran back through her front door to find Stephen Steele with Daffodil’s in one hand and a box of chocolate in the other waiting for her in the foyer. He stood up immediately upon seeing her entrance.

  “I’m sorry Stephen; I’ll only be a minute,” she said, leaving him alone.

  Inside her bedroom, Nancy changed in a hurry. Not dressing up, she opted towards a romper with a s
carf.

  A few moments later, Nancy blinked out of another day-dream to find herself inside Stephen’s car. Stephen was talking to her, but she wasn’t listening. She asked him to repeat his question.

  “How many times do we have to sit through that tired ole story of how our father’s met?” Stephen asked again, checking himself out in the rear-view mirror as he drove along the highway in his Cadillac convertible.

  Unimpressed with his wealth, Nancy solemnly looked out her side of the car. The top was down and she rolled her eyes, “About a million times until they’re so old they start to forget.”

  Stephen took a peek at her sitting in his passenger’s side; her long hair flew romantically in the wind. Clearing his throat first, he asked, “And how many times do we have to continue to hear how our parents want us to get married?”

  Nancy let go a chuckle. “Until we see a man on the moon,” she conveyed, tilting her head up to gaze at the stars and next the crescent moon.

  Stephen looked back into the mirror again and checked out his own hair. “You know Nancy; I hate all this as much as you do.”

  Nancy continued to gawk up at the sky, “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is—I’m not interested in you as much as you’re not interested in me.”

  Nancy now looked over at Stephen. He was a fancy dresser, more so for a normal teenager of the day; with brown slacks that matched the color of his shirt, his tie and tweed sport coat were coordinated as well with stripes that accentuated his dark auburn hair. His face was just ordinary to her, with pleasant facial features and blue eyes to equal the sky at summertime. Nancy guessed he was attractive in some sort of way; all her friends thought Stephen Steele was the cat’s meow…but to Nancy he was just an obstacle she had to get rid of so that she could be free and clear to marry anybody else. “Then why don’t we just make the best of it and have some fun?” Nancy expressed, watching Stephen sit up straight by her uncomfortable inspection.

  Stephen let go a wicked smile, “I’m with you. What do you want to do?”

  Nancy whipped her arms out into the air like she was worshipping the sky. “I don’t know anything!”

  Stephen perked up, “OK, where do you want to go? Hartford? I heard they have some swingin’ places in Hartford.

  “Yes! Hartford, what kind of swingin’ places?”

  “How about Maxine’s? It’s a swingin’ joint.”

  “Maxine’s? Yeah, that sounds like a swell idea.”

  Stephen made an abrupt U-turn in the middle of the street. “Maxine’s here we come!”

  Nancy leaned her body back into the seat. Looking up at the sky again she watched the black roll over and over her as Stephen sped up to make due time.

  Half an hour later, they pulled into the parking lot and Nancy doesn’t wait for Stephen to open up her car door and let herself out.

  They walk in together, but were a few feet apart; Nancy holding onto her pocketbook, Stephen jingling his keys. Nancy gazed over casually at some girlfriends she knew from school and hoped they didn’t see her. She tried to hide her face with her handbag as the maître d' escorted the couple over to a table up front by the band. They ordered something to drink from the waiter and then Nancy looked around her, patrons were beginning to stare at them now; they were even the center of attention, just like the other night at the Daffodil Festival.

  “Gee, I guess it pays to be a Steele after all,” Nancy joked aloud, but deep down inside she was disgusted. “Up front and all, it’s like we’re on display.” She then showed Stephen her dissatisfaction by slumping in her chair as she sat down, plopping her pocketbook in the center of the table.

  Stephen noted her displeasure and looked around him and spotted some guys he knew from New Canaan High. “Wow, this is some place, I have to remember to come back here with another date.”

  Nancy recognized some of her friends too who were also pointing at the two of them and came to a decision. “Let’s dance.”

  Stephen was in mid-sip of his soda pop, “Um, what?”

  Nancy grabbed his hands and pulled him out onto the dance floor. “You do dance, don’t you?”

  Stephen grabbed her waist and spun her around perfectly, but then tried too hard to catch up with the drum beat rhythm and fumbled fast trying to do the jitterbug off key.

  Nancy waved her hand in the air as Stephen yanked at the other, “They wanna show, they’ve gotta show.”

  She grasped his hands as he twirled her body around and they bebop in and out of the dance flawlessly. Waving their hands in the air, they imitate all the other couples dancing to the swing and it was fun, it was exhilarating, but it was temporary.

  Fifteen minutes later, the twosome finds their seats out of breath.

  “Stephen, you have to give yourself some credit there, you weren’t half bad.”

  “Yeah, ha—ha, try telling your feet that! Sorry about your toes.”

  Then silence, as Nancy drifted away into her day-dreams and surveyed the other couples out on the dance floor. If it weren’t for the be-bop of the saxophone and drum beats, Nancy would have felt all alone.

  Stephen looked over at Nancy at that moment and noted her solemn face. He had an idea.

  “Nancy?”

  “Yes Stephen?”

  He swallowed hard and then gazed out beyond her and at some friends getting ready to approach them. “Want to do something dangerous?”

  Nancy looked over at her girlfriends at a nearby table; they too were on the verge of occupation. “What?”

  “Come with me outside, outside to my car.”

  “Outside?” She asked, unsure.

  Stephen stood up and asked for her hand to lead her out a nearby exit. Nancy hesitated at first, and then took his lead.

  Outside in the parking lot, he walked them over to his convertible and unlocked the trunk with his key. Inside the trunk was a bottle of scotch.

  Nancy sprung over to it, excited for some reason. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  Stephen smiled; he was delighted to see she was pleased. “The ole man, who else.”

  Nancy looked up at him. “Do you ever drink it?”

  “All the time.”

  “Are we going to drink some now?”

  “Do you want to? I mean, you make the decision Nancy.”

  Nancy looked away from him and then up at the stars, “OK, but we have to go somewhere remote.”

  Stephen knew exactly where to drive them to: “Sutter’s Point”.

  Sutter’s Point was really an out-of-the-way mountain top where long, tall bushes conveniently covered teenagers—and the occasional, unholy adult—who kissed and groped one another un-chaperoned. In the daytime, it was usually a secluded spot and pretty, with wild flowers growing up and down the hillside with orange poppies sprouting up between the crab grass, but at nighttime, it was quiet, a notorious place where the innocent and their reputations oftentimes became tarnished by just being seen there.

  Stephen pulled into an empty spot and put on the brakes to the convertible. Nancy was still in awe that she was even there with him and in the distance spotted a nearby auto with the windows already steamed up.

  Stephen opened up the bottle of scotch and initiated the first drink. He wiped off the head of the bottle with his shirt sleeve and then handed it over to Nancy, but she was too afraid to touch it.

  “Go on, it won’t bite.”

  Nancy gripped the bottle and took a quick sip. Closing her eyes in disbelief at how powerful the liquid really was, she coughed and wiped off her brow. “Wow…this stuff is smooth.”