A modern man in 1930’s Americas

A Night of Glamour and Business

When the car came to a smooth stop in front of Building A of the duplex complex, a sharp cry erupted from the fans who had gathered after hearing the news. Reporters, armed with the latest RIX120 dual-lens reflex cameras, scrambled to focus and press their shutters. They couldn't help but be grateful for their advanced equipment; with older cameras, they would have missed the fleeting moment as Garbo disappeared into the building.

In the United States, anyone familiar with the name Garbo knew she despised two things the most: interviews and photographs. Her disdain for the media only added to her mystique. Thus, when the Golden Arch publicized this rare appearance—made even more sensational by her rumored involvement with its CEO, Charlie Lee—it was hard to believe. Skepticism lingered until she stepped out of the car.

To everyone's surprise, Garbo didn't rush into the building as expected. Instead, she stood by the car, allowing the photographers to capture her. She even posed, something unimaginable for journalists who had long chased the elusive star. Her composed demeanor drew gasps, and at that moment, Charlie Lee felt a light weight on his arm. She had taken it.

"Garbo, Garbo! Over here!" shouted the photographers.

"Look! Garbo is holding his arm—oh, this is driving me crazy with jealousy!"

"Mr. Lee, are you and Garbo in love? Look this way, please!"

The reporters were electrified, as if they had been injected with adrenaline. They crowded as close as the bodyguards' barricades allowed, desperate to capture every frame.

"She's smiling!" one of them exclaimed.

"My God, she's smiling at us!"

"No, she's smiling at Charlie Lee!"

Fans wailed as the realization sank in. Cries of despair rose from the crowd.

"Garbo, don't leave us!"

"You're America's treasure! We don't approve of this marriage!"

"Garbo, stay with us!"

The heartache of fans who had idolized her from afar was palpable. Though they knew the goddess was unattainable, the sight of her with Charlie Lee broke their fragile fantasies.

Meanwhile, Garbo maintained her calm, detached smile. After a minute, Charlie gently reminded her, "It's time to go in." He led her into the building, leaving Hepburn behind to deal with the ravenous reporters.

Bodyguards formed a narrow pathway with fencing, guiding the couple toward the entrance. Charlie noticed a faint smile playing at Garbo's lips and whispered teasingly, "It seems you enjoy the attention."

"Everyone enjoys being watched," Garbo replied coolly. "Especially women."

"But you're an exception," Charlie said, leaning in to murmur close to her ear. His lips barely grazed her earlobe as he added, "That's why you're so captivating."

Garbo's body stiffened momentarily before she regained her composure. She glanced at him with a piercing gaze, shook off his arm, and walked ahead, her every step exuding elegance.

Charlie chuckled and quickly caught up with her. By the time they entered the grand banquet hall, Garbo's hand had found its place on his arm again, though this time it was clearly at his insistence.

"Damn it, I thought you got lost!" exclaimed Lawrence, approaching with hurried steps.

"Miss Garbo, I'm Lawrence, a friend of Charlie's. It's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you," Garbo replied curtly, maintaining her air of aloofness as she held Charlie's arm tighter. Her cold demeanor, though awkward for Lawrence, was nothing out of the ordinary for those familiar with her.

"You're up next," Charlie said, nodding toward the stage where the host was introducing the evening's program.

"See you later, then," Lawrence replied with a polite smile before heading to the stage.

Garbo's indifference didn't bother him. After all, this was Garbo.

Once the attention shifted to the stage, Charlie guided her to a quiet corner. "Would you like a drink?"

"Gin," she replied, letting go of his arm.

"Two gins," Charlie told the waiter.

Moments later, Yevich appeared. "Charlie, hiding here all by yourself?"

Charlie stepped aside to reveal Garbo. "Actually, I'm in fine company."

Yevich straightened his posture and said with mock regret, "My apologies. Clearly, I need glasses."

"Or maybe new eyes," Charlie quipped, laughing.

"You bastard!" Yevich said, feigning indignation.

"I'd like some quiet," Garbo interjected softly.

Charlie signaled a waiter to escort her to a smaller, private lounge. Once she was gone, Yevich leaned in with a playful grin. "She's stunning, Charlie. So, is the gossip true?"

Charlie smiled knowingly. "Maybe I just have too much money, who knows?"

"Ha! You're incorrigible!" Yevich laughed, raising his glass.

Moments later, he gestured toward a man in the opposite corner. "White's here. Let's go talk?"

"Of course."

When they approached, Yevich called out, "White, look who I found!"

White turned, smiling broadly as he set down his glass. "Yevich! Charlie! Good to see you."

Charlie embraced him in a brief hug, a custom he'd grown accustomed to and found surprisingly pleasant.

"What were you talking about?" Charlie asked as he noticed a young woman retreating shyly from their conversation.

"McDonald's," White replied with a laugh. "It's crazy how big it's gotten."

Yevich chimed in with a theatrical gesture. "Every time I drive out of town and see the Golden Arch, my hands turn the wheel on their own!"

His mock struggle against imaginary forces drew chuckles from both men.

"So, are you interested in joining us?" Charlie asked casually.

"Once this event is over, let's sit down and discuss," White said diplomatically.

The conversation shifted to California, where Charlie was planning to establish a new aircraft factory. Yevich and White subtly pressed him to consider Illinois instead. Charlie listened patiently, then explained, "California has broader prospects for industrial development. It may not yet rival Chicago in infrastructure, but Los Angeles lacks a true pillar industry. My think tank sees this as an opportunity."

White and Yevich exchanged disappointed looks. They understood his decision but had hoped for a different outcome.

To assuage them, Charlie added, "Rest assured, the Golden Arch headquarters will remain in Chicago."

The reassurance seemed to ease their concerns, and the conversation turned lighthearted once more.

May 1, 10:00 AM: Subway's Grand Opening

Subway, a new fast-food chain under the Golden Arch brand, officially opened its doors. Building on McDonald's success, Subway targeted a different market. Its smaller stores, averaging 400 square feet, were strategically placed near offices, schools, and shopping centers.

Unlike McDonald's, Subway didn't offer dining spaces. It catered to a busy, on-the-go clientele, with a higher price point reflecting its premium positioning.

The menu included hot dogs and tortillas made from a blend of chicken, beef broth, and spices, accompanied by fresh sturgeon slices and salad dressing. At $0.25 each—with an additional $0.02 for sturgeon—these offerings appealed to middle and upper-class customers seeking a convenient yet refined option.

The tagline, "Eat healthy, stay energized," captured Subway's essence. It provided an alternative for those who, though not as wealthy as before, still desired a touch of sophistication in their daily lives.

The launch was met with overwhelming enthusiasm, cementing the Golden Arch's position as a pioneer in the fast-food industry.