Don and I partied the night away at the Mocambo. It was a real scene. Crowds outside, packed tight as sardines trying to get in. Inside, a celebrity playground. Tables upon tables filled with famous people, high ceilings, incredible stage acts, and birds everywhere. Actual live birds in glass aviaries.
Don introduced me to a few actors from MGM and Warner Brothers. I met Bonnie Lakeland, who had just gone freelance and made it big with Money, Honey. I heard, more than once, someone refer to Don as the prince of Hollywood, and I found it charming when he turned to me after the third time someone said it and whispered, “They are underestimating me. I’ll be king one of these days.”
Don and I stayed at Mocambo well past midnight, dancing together until our feet hurt. Every time a song ended, we said we were going to sit down, but once a new one started, we refused to leave the floor.
He drove me home, the streets quiet at the late hour, the lights dim all over town. When we got to my apartment, he walked me to my door. He didn’t ask to come in. He just said, “When can I see you again?”
“Call Harry and make a date,” I said.
Don put his hand on the door. “No,” he said. “Really. Me and you.”
“And the cameras?” I said.
“If you want them there, fine,” he said. “If you don’t, neither do I.” He smiled, a sweet, teasing smile.
I laughed. “OK,” I said. “How about next Friday?”
Don thought about it a second. “Can I tell you the truth about something?”
“If you must.”
“I’m scheduled to go to the Trocadero with Natalie Ember next Friday night.”
“Oh.”
“It’s the name. The Adler name. Sunset’s trying to squeeze all the fame out of me that they can.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think it’s just the name,” I told him. “I’ve seen Brothers in Arms. You’re great. The whole audience loved you.”
Don looked at me shyly and smiled. “You really think so?”
I laughed. He knew it was true; he just liked hearing it come out of my mouth.
“I won’t give you the satisfaction,” I said.
“I wish you would.”
“Enough of that,” I told him. “I’ve told you when I’m free. You do with it what you will.”
He stood tall, listening to what I’d said as if I’d given him orders. “OK, I’ll cancel Natalie, then. I’ll pick you up here on Friday at seven.”
I smiled and nodded. “Good night, Don,” I said.
“Good night, Evelyn,” he said.
I started to shut the door, and he put his hand up, stopping me.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked me.
I thought about what to say, how to say it. And then I lost control of myself, giddy to feel excited by someone for the first time. “One of the better nights of my life,” I said.
Don smiled. “Me too.”
The next day, our picture appeared in Sub Rosa magazine with the caption “Don Adler and Evelyn Hugo make quite the pair.”
FATHER AND DAUGHTER WAS A huge hit. And as a show of just how excited Sunset was about my new persona, they credited me in the beginning of the movie as “Introducing Evelyn Hugo.” It was the first, and only, time my name was under the marquee.
On opening night, I thought of my mother. I knew that if she could have been there with me, she would have been beaming. I did it, I wanted to tell her. We’re both out of there.
