“Love For the Asking”: Hi, yes, I’d like the Fake Marriage trope, but where only one party is aware of it, thanks.

“I asked you,” he said quietly, “if Huntington knew about—”

“About the shanty girl of Pine Valley,” she mocked, “who sang in a dime store for a living?  Oh, yes, I told him.  But strange as it may seem to you, he doesn’t mind at all.  He said it’s what I am today that counts and that I can forget all my life up to now.”

“But you didn’t,” he insisted, taking a step around the luggage and towering over her suddenly, “tell him about you and me, did you?”

We’re continuing with the Frances Lake (McKenna) spree, this time with “Love For the Asking,” a short story/novelette published in the July 1941 issue of Love Fiction Monthly.  The issue isn’t formally digitized, but you can view/download a PDF of the story here.  (As more and more of the romance stories I review aren’t available online, and as WordPress only allows me so much space, I decided to try something different, as far as sharing them goes.  We’ll see if I go back and edit earlier posts accordingly, or if I just leave them as is, with pictures attached to the bottom.  At any rate, this will also solve the issue of what to do with those non-digitized stories that don’t really warrant a full write-up, but that I’d like to share anyway.  I’ve admittedly been slacking on updating my Pulp Romance Guide, and that’s part of the reason.)

But yes, another Frances Lake story!  Heads up that I’m not going to do a full summary of it, but it may initially seem like I am, because if I’ve learned one thing after reading five of her works, it’s that this bitch LOVES a complicated, convoluted set-up (and I, frankly, love her for it <3).

The story opens with our heroine, Nadia Minor.  She’s the star pupil of Morell, a famous New York voice teacher, and she’s just had a wildly successful recital—so successful, in fact, that wealthy San Francisco socialite and film producer Scott Huntington has contracted her for his upcoming musical comedy.  Yes, things are looking distinctly up for our gal Nadia (especially since she hails from Kentucky coal-mining poverty), but all she can think about is how Drew Carteret, “the man to whom she owed all she was,” didn’t come to see her perform that evening.  She’s currently hanging out alone in his fancy Park Avenue apartment when the door bell rings, and presently, Drew enters.  Immediately there’s sexual tension in the air, as Nadia tries to repress the feelings she clearly has for him, and Drew himself is deliberately very cool and casual with her.

He’s all, “So…I see you’re leaving with Scott Huntington” (because her luggage is literally on the floor, between them), and Nadia proceeds to hand him a check for $3000—reimbursement for the way he paid for both her vocal instructions and living expenses.  Drew reluctantly pockets it, then cryptically asks, “Does Scott know about us?  About you?”—and then we get a flashback, baby!

It turns out that, a few years ago, when Nadia was sixteen, Drew’s younger brother Laddie (then eighteen) fancied himself in love with her and wanted to elope.  Nadia refused, partly because she didn’t love him in return, but also because she was really committed to her dream of becoming an opera star.  It was all a bit moot, though, as Drew got wind of the infatuation and shipped his brother off to South America—ostensibly to learn the family business (in an unpleasant example of colonialism, the Carterets own “vast copper mines” down there), but really to get him away from such lower-class riff-raff.  Laddie soon married a Brazilian heiress, and so, that was that.

Cut to two years later, and Drew and his recently-married sister Ailsa are back in town after a trip abroad.  Ailsa catches Nadia singing in a dime store and hires her for a party she’s throwing that night.  All seems to go well, and Nadia is chilling in the library afterward, waiting to get paid, when she overhears Ailsa talking shit about her “impossible” background.  Nadia is about to storm out of the house on sheer principle, but it’s then that Drew comes in with her money.  He’s all, “You know, you really do have a great voice—you should be studying with some prestigious instructor, not wasting it singing in a dime store,” and Nadia—bless her soul—just fucking GOES OFF on him:

She turned on him violently, and in a swift torrent of words had vented upon him all her fury and resentment.  Why did he suppose she was wasting her voice if it weren’t that she must eat—and at the same time save every penny possible so that someday she might study with some good teacher?

Her grandfather hadn’t died and left her a fortune in copper mines!  She had to work for her living!  Certainly her need for the twenty-five dollars Ailsa was paying her tonight must be great, or she would never have sung at this house for such patronizing snobs as himself and his sister!

Drew takes this in stride, and at the end of it is all, “Tell you what.  I’ll finance your education in New York for two years.  If you’re really as confident in your ability and ambitions as you appear to be, then surely you’ll be able to pay me back once you achieve success, right?”  And Nadia (again, I love her) agrees, basically out of PURE SPITE.  And so it’s settled, with the understanding that she’ll effectively take over his apartment for the duration of the arrangement—he prefers to stay at his club when he’s in New York on business, anyway, so no biggie.

Unfortunately, over the course of a year and a half, that hatred she initially felt for him slowly mellowed and turned into love, and now she just needs to fucking get away for her own sake and sanity—hence the Hollywood contract and her eagerness to run off with Scott Huntington.  Back with Drew, Nadia is like, “Yeah, he knows all about my humble background, but unlike you, he doesn’t actually give a shit about it.”  Drew presses her, all, “But did you tell him about us?” and Nadia (getting vaguely panicky, because the sexual tension is now OFF THE CHARTS) is like, “There’s nothing to tell???  Like, yeah, I lived in your apartment, but???”

Drew seems put out by the fact that she’s apparently giving up her opera dreams to “be just another singer in the movies,” and then there’s some drama that culminates in him giving her one hell of a kiss.  He’s all, “Put that in your pipe and smoke it!” (I lie; he actually says, “Take that with you to Hollywood!” but same general vibe, yeah?), at which point he indignantly leaves.

Sixth months later, Nadia is indeed in Hollywood, at the after-party of the premiere of her first film.  It’s been a smashing success, and Scott has just announced their engagement.  Nadia doesn’t exactly love him, but this is a feature, not a bug, in her opinion—her last experience with love was so painful, she honestly likes the idea of a cooler, more sedate coupling.  Scott is similarly done with passionate romances, as he’s been married twice before and neither relationship ended all that well—his first wife committed suicide once he was done with her, and his second wife not only had the audacity to get happily remarried after he divorced her, but also went on to have an incredibly successful career as a novelist.  What a bitch, amirite?  (Nadia is a little put off by Scott’s implied dickishness, but keeps telling herself it’s fine, as theirs is really more of a mutually-beneficial business partnership than anything else.  Surely there’s nothing to worry about here!)

Anyway, Scott and Nadia are chilling when who should come up to their table but Ailsa, Drew’s sister.  To Scott, she’s all, “OMG, so you don’t know me, but my husband—Count Alec de Rosetti?—totally ran into you a couple years ago in Paris, and he’d love to catch up~”  And because Scott is the type of guy who cares about random European aristos, he’s like, “Hell yeah, Count Alec!” and runs off.  Ailsa then sits down next to Nadia and immediately changes tone, all, “How DARE you announce your engagement when you’re still married to my brother!”  Nadia is understandably like, “Wait, what???” but Ailsa cuts her off, all, “Don’t try to fucking lie to me; I went to his apartment last year and saw your stuff all over the goddamned place.”  Apparently Ailsa then confronted Drew, accusing him of having an affair with Nadia, but he assured her that no, it wasn’t what it looked like, as they’d actually been secretly—but legitimately—married before leaving Kentucky.

As if this news wasn’t shocking enough, Ailsa then goes on, all, “Now I don’t care WHAT is going on between you two, but Alec’s parents are coming to visit, and they’re VERY traditional, with an absolute HATRED of divorce, so you are going to COME BACK WITH ME to the house Drew bought for you in La Jolla, and you are going to PRETEND THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE, or SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL BURN YOU TO THE FUCKING GROUND.”  Again, Nadia is like, “Waitwaitwait, whatwhatwhat???” but Ailsa just walks away, like an action hero walking away from an explosion, heedless of the damage they have just wrought.

Documentary footage of Countess Ailsa de Rosetti (née Carteret).

Scott comes back to the table, and in a remarkably sensible move, Nadia comes clean to him about what just happened, along with her previous relationship with Drew—that yes, he paid for her vocal lessons and she lived in his apartment, but he never lived there at the same time; it was always a strict business arrangement much to her chagrin.  To his credit, Scott takes this all very well, and Nadia is like, “Phew!  Now I don’t have to go with Ailsa to La Jolla!” but Scott’s all, “Uh…actually, yeah, you do.”  Ailsa could still make good on her threat to ruin Nadia’s reputation, after all, and the implication is that if that happens, Scott—appearance-minded man that he is—will be done with her, both personally and professionally.  But he totally trusts her and will call her every day, promise!  And so, utterly reeling from the surreal turn the night has taken, Nadia finds herself in Ailsa and Alec’s car, merrily going to La Jolla for a week.

Upon arriving, Drew gives her a passionate kiss on the patio for show, and then finally explains everything—essentially, it was a white lie to his sister that got out of hand.  Alec’s parents, however, are indeed very dear to Ailsa and even Drew, himself, so he begs Nadia to go through with the ruse, assuring her that he won’t “become personal in any way, except when appearances demand it.”  Nadia is pissed that he inadvertently roped her into this mess, but grudgingly agrees, and so begins her run of playing the role of Mrs. Carteret—something she would have relished six months ago, but that is now making her feel extremely mixed up.

 

“Love For the Asking” is WILD, guys.  Not quite as wild as “The Love Pawn” (sidebar: will anything ever be?), but still admirably insane and immensely entertaining.  One of the things I’ve noticed about Lake’s work is that she loves a pairing that has some previous history.  (“Tonight You’re Mine!” and “Reunion In Carolina” are basically second-chance romances, and another, yet-unreviewed one revolves around a “missed connection” of sorts.  In fact, out of the five pieces of hers I’ve now read, only one features a hero and heroine who haven’t met prior to the start of the story.)  In a lot of ways, I think this really benefits her work, and is one of the reasons behind that emotional sophistication I’ve previously talked about, as it serves as a sort of narrative shorthand; we don’t really need to know how Nadia fell in love with Drew, so long as we know she did—and the fact that it happened gradually over the course of a year and a half is realistic enough that I don’t mind the economy of storytelling.  (If this were a full-length novel, then yeah, I’d probably want more details, but as the author is working within the confines of a much shorter format, I’m cool with it—maybe even a little impressed by the way she bends the rule of “show, don’t tell” to suit her whims.)

What I’m a little less thrilled about is the end, as (spoiler alert) it’s revealed that—contrary to what you might have thought—Drew didn’t similarly fall slowly in love with Nadia, but that he’d basically been in love with her from the get-go, and that he in fact sent his brother away all those years ago as a cockblocking measure.  (“I wanted to be the first and last man in your life,” he tells her, “and I knew [Laddie] wasn’t the right man for you.”)  It’s all very possessive and paternalistic and Patriarchal with a capital P, and I don’t like it at all.  And that’s not even getting into the age difference and how a presumably full-grown man fell in love with a sixteen(!)-year-old girl.  Suffice it to say, I am rejecting that reality, substituting my own, and saying he originally offered to finance her in New York as some sort of weird, arrogant joke, and then accidentally developed feelings.

In addition to all that, it turns out the whole “Alec’s parents hate divorce, so we need to pretend to be happily married” thing was also a ruse—it was actually part of a greater scheme to simply get Nadia out to La Jolla:  Drew, we learn, followed her to California “just to be near [her] in case [she] needed [him] someday” (which is a little stalkery, but also kind of sweet?—it helps that he wasn’t literally following her around town or anything, and was just, like, hanging out in the general geographic region).  Anyway, he was apparently just hanging out, worried about Nadia marrying “that animated tailor’s dummy, Huntington,” when Ailsa and co. showed up for a visit, saw how down he was about the whole situation, and so hatched a plan.  On the one hand, this proves Ailsa to be an amazing wingman (who’s presumably gotten over Nadia’s lower-class background), but on the other hand, I honestly think I’d prefer it if she (and Alec’s parents) were just unusually conservative about romantic relationships?  Because the truth just makes them look super manipulative, which is arguably worse​?  :/

What helps to mitigate this, though (or at least make it more complicated), is that the reason Drew didn’t confess his feelings to Nadia earlier is because he was incredibly aware of the power imbalance between them, and didn’t want to inadvertently take advantage of it.  (“I was afraid you’d say no or hate me more or get all mixed up with gratitude, which I didn’t want,” he says.)  Considering the era in which it was written, and how sketchy the power dynamics often are (let me tell you about all the romanticized boss/secretary pairings I’ve come across in my pulp adventures), it’s actually really refreshing to see a story that addresses those dynamics, if only in passing.  (As an aside, I also really like how Drew seems to be legitimately supportive of Nadia’s operatic dreams, such that I can totally see him encouraging her to finish her vocal studies and pursue an actual career in the field.  Which, again, is pretty rare for the era!)

So it isn’t a perfect story, admittedly.  But if you can ignore (or else rewrite in your head) the more problematic aspects, it really is a fun ride, full of (again) some really solid sexual tension, and one I do indeed recommend.  <3

 

Random end thoughts:

• The jury’s still out on exactly how female-friendly Frances Lake is (her female characters are often at odds with each other, but then you get things like Scott’s second wife having a great second marriage and an amazing writing career?), but despite that, she’s still pretty darn feministic in her way.  All of her heroines (so far) are capable, working women, and “Love For the Asking” takes this one step further, with a hero who (as stated) seems like he’d be perfectly cool with the heroine continuing to work after they get married.  (Indeed, when the fake marriage ruse was going on, the story was that Nadia worked in Hollywood during the week, then spent her weekends in La Jolla with Drew.)  Her heroines also have a pleasant amount of spirit—Nadia might be my favorite so far, as she has no problem speaking her mind and just verbally wrecking shit (as she delightfully did with Drew, back when Ailsa hired her pre-story, and as she does at the end, with the reporters Scott has gathered).
• At one point Alec’s mom asks Nadia if she’ll sing again that night, following it up with, “I love to watch Drew look at you while you sing.”  Not “I love to watch you sing,” mind you, but “I love to watch Drew watch you sing”—which is a little weird, to be honest.  But then, she earlier tells Nadia that Drew “has a charm that no woman, no matter how young or old, can resist,” so maybe Mrs. Alec’s Mom is simply indulging in a little crush?
• “Animated tailor’s dummy” is honestly a really great insult, and I just want to bring attention to that.  (It’s like calling someone a tool, but with more panache, pfft.)
• I haven’t yet made it to Bowling Green State University’s pop culture library (and their collection of pulp magazines), but I am getting three more issues that contain Frances Lake (McKenna) stories in the mail.  So hooray for that!

 

And now, while the story does have a very nice illustration of Nadia and Drew in bathing suits, hanging out near the pool (with Drew completely nipple-less, a la a Ken doll), I’ll instead end with this little excerpt from the same scene (because SEXUAL TENSIONNN ;DDD):

Drew slanted a lazy smile up at her.  “Then you don’t hate me as much as you did at first?” he asked.

“I—guess I didn’t really hate you.  I just couldn’t understand why you kept on letting Ailsa believe we are married.  I still don’t.”

“Say that again,” he said, watching her lips.

“Say what again?”

“What you just said—what Ailsa believes.”

“You mean—that we are married?”

His eyes, suddenly dark flames, told her that was what he meant.  Then quickly, before she could catch her breath, he looked away and said irrelevantly, “What have you heard from Huntington since you’ve been here?”

Tagged: 1940s, frances lake, love fiction monthly, love for the asking, pulp, romance, short stories