“Yeah, but never there and she’s gray as Hades now. Besides, comparing Bea to you is like comparing fine whiskey to penny ale. Even before six kids, the wife’s never been what you call a raving beauty, though God bless her soul, I love her anyhow.”
“Then why are you here with me like this?” The words came out before she could stop them. She really didn’t understand men. She liked them well enough, but the more she saw how they lied and cheated, the less she trusted them.
Seymour smiled then shrugged. “Because fellas are dogs, I guess. Call it instinct. Beatrice, she’s my heart, but men don’t stop looking or taking if they have a mind to and can.”
She wanted to roll her eyes and say obviously, but didn’t. After all, she was in no position to judge him or his choices. She’d learned that even the most righteous people veered from the straight and narrow, justifying their dirty little secrets however they wished to. Add in wealth or power and it was more of the same. People either used you or you used them, but as long as you were both doing it, it was as fair a deal as you could expect.
“You are gorgeous,” he muttered, playfully cupping her breast.
She knew her pleasure pleased him immensely so while he toyed with her, she arched against him like a cat. She combed her fingers through his thick chest hair. His gray eyes were flat, his face lined with regret as he looked down at his limp member. “At least I still got my hands and my mouth.”
“And they are the best,” she said, laughing as he worked his way down her body licking and touching. Inundated with pleasurable sensations, Hannah’s body exploded into great convulsions and what she didn’t feel, she exaggerated. Seymour literally swelled with pride growing semi-erect.
He covered her as she lay still, legs parted. He rubbed his member against her until sweat poured down his face. But his penis remained immune to his formidable will and desire and eventually he gave up, lying down beside her.
“Goddammit. You must hate that I can’t get it up?”
“No, it’s fine, Seymour. You make me feel so good, really. That other stuff doesn’t matter to me, truly.” She didn’t show him anything resembling pity and affectionately brushed a kiss across his wide lips.
He dozed as she showered and dressed, his soft snores filling the room. Her rose hued lips and nails matched her rose silk georgette crepe dress, bell sleeves and gathered skirt of Spanish lace, a gift from Seymour. She assessed herself in the mirror feeling neither cheap, nor a whore. She was a girl well on her way to success, a girl using what the good Lord gave her to use, doing what she had to for an easier life devoid of hard, backbreaking work. Her life was already filled with great freedoms. Maybe someday she’d have unlimited funds and a great love to add to all the rest.
“Meggie called. She sounded upset,” said Rosie. She looked like an invader from Mars with green goop plastered on her face and her hair in pin curls.
Hannah sighed, pushing a stray hair from her eye. “Poor Meg’s been arguing with Alec. She’s not seeing him enough and gets tired waiting. Personally, I think she’s bored.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind being bored.” Rosie sighed tiredly, holding her hand out to admire her newly painted nails. “But I’d never sit around and wait on a fella’s whim no matter how many bucks he had. Lord knows, I’m no saint, but smart as Meggie is, carrying a torch for some married darb just ain’t copacetic.”
“I know. You believe in keeping it fast, loose and fickle.”
Rosie tittered. “Don’t forget I like to add in a randy, good-looking college boy on occasion for good measure too. Have I told you about Todd?”
“Oh no, whatever happened to Sean? Or was it Frank?” Hannah laughed. Rosie picked up men like a dog picked up fleas. She shook them off just as quick.
Rosie licked her lips and smiled. “That’s yesterday’s news, kid. Tonight it’s Todd Elroy McFaddan, the third. How’s that for a fancy moniker?”
“Sounds like Quality Hill for sure.” Quality Hill was a fancy old suburb where mansions and distinguished old moneyed families ruled.
“He is and adorable and rich too. His friend is having a party and Todd says the house has its own chapel, indoor swimming pool and tennis court. It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together. I was hoping you’d come with.”
“Last time I went out with you I ended up necking with some college boy whose name I still can’t recall. I barely remember how I got home,” said Hannah frowning. “Not to mention, I had a blaster of a headache that lasted two whole days.”
Rosie laughed. “So we got a little frisky, Han, but don’t you get sick of acting so proper all the time?”
Hannah raised her brow.
“Okay, not exactly proper, but it’s a pain having to worry about your image for the bosses’ sake.”
“It’s part of the deal and I love my work.”
Rosie nodded agreeably. “I know you do, but you’re only young once and they keep you on such a tight leash.”
“Booth and Velma mean well, but sometimes they do make me feel the same as I did when I was home with Ray and Mama tellin’ me what to do.”
“And, who to sleep with?”
“Seymour was my choice,” protested Hannah.
“And didn’t Velma charge you a fortune for all those clothes they made you get, and then tell you they’d knock off the debt if you were “friendlier” to the old guy?”
She sighed. “Yes, but I like Seymour. He’s never here long enough to be a pest, so it’s not a bad deal Rosie, really.”
Rosie wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. I don’t know how you can get into the sack with a fella old enough to be your grandfather, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Still, who knows, maybe tonight you’ll meet the young man of your dreams. At least say you’ll come with me.”
“I haven’t slept long enough to dream,” murmured Hannah yawning. She hardly ever got much rest anymore and hadn’t last night at all. “I want to nap first, but I might consider it if you go shopping with me later. There’s this dress calling out to me in Adler’s window.”
Rosie groaned. “Ohhh, I’ll go, but with no moola it will be pure torture for me.”
“Oh, no it won’t,” said Hannah. Smiling impishly she reached into her purse. She pulled out a large wad of dollar bills and waved them at Rosie. “Here’s two months’ rent ahead, the money I owed you from last month and I’ll treat for lunch today too.”
Rosie looked surprised. “Hey, where did you get all that dough?”
“From Seymour. Five hundred big ones and these,” said Hannah gleefully reaching into her bag again. She pulled out an emerald and diamond necklace, a bracelet and matching earrings. “Now dearie, admit it. Seymour might be old, but isn’t he the kindest, most generous fella ever?”
Gawking, Rosie took the bracelet out of the box. She held it up to the light. “Well, he’s generous all right. These rocks are worth a frigging fortune. Heck, I admit it. I never get things like this. Maybe it’s time I start thinking sugar daddies instead of sugar babies?”
Hannah laughed as she walked down the hall to her room.
6 CHAPTER SIX
With shaky hands Hannah gripped the music sheets. Sam’s hasty scrawl swam before her tired eyes. Too many hours working and not enough sleep, never enough sleep. As if sympathetic, the barkeep handed her an icy glass of lemonade liberally laced with rum. She gulped it with an appreciative nod in his direction. She looked at Jerome and rasped, “Start in C this time.”
“You catchin’ somethin’, chile?”
“Just tired,” she said, wetting her parched throat with another long drink before putting down the glass. An hour later, third try, second refrain, she sighed in frustration as her strained voice failed. “Be—e’s K—nee’s, my pitch is off in left field somewhere. I’m sorry, fellas.”
Jerome shut down the piano. He rubbed his own eyes, red-rimmed from lack of sleep and suggested they call it a night. Sam agreed, putting down his sax. When she stifled a yawn, they both sugges
ted she coddle her voice while she had the chance. “We can practice again after all this holiday tomfooleries passed,” added Jerome, giving her a hug.
The Annual Indigent Christmas Dinner at The Jefferson to feed and clothe the poor, one of Tom Pendergast’s headline making charity events would give the band some unexpected days off, two weeks’ worth of interrupted shows. “I’ll try, but day after tomorrow Velma’s expecting me to work dinner and who knows what else.”
“Well no matter what that pushy white woman say, take care of them pretty pipes of yours.” Jerome sounded stern.
Sam’s dark eyes danced. “We ain’t purty enough I suppose, but the ladies won’t be needin’ their voices as much as their lips for Mr. Tom’s party.”
Hannah giggled as she put on her coat. “How’d you know? The kissing booth was supposed to be a secret.”
Sam laughed. “I have mah sources, woman.”
Smiling, she swatted him playfully, “And, that source wouldn’t be that pretty girl who works in the hotel kitchen, now would it?”
Sam smiled unashamedly. “Might be, but ain’t nothin’ stays secret around here no how, most especially if it involves you, gal.”
She sighed, acknowledging the truth of that. Her celebrity was both a joy and a burden. “Just doing my part to keep the boss happy. Lord knows we’re lucky to have this job, but we could all be hurting if Prohibition closes us down.”
“It been ratified more than a year now and ain’t nothing changed yet,” said Sam, dismissing her concerns, smiling when she gave him a hug.
The hotel was quiet except for the late night crew, a few guests with insomnia and service personnel. Starting towards the lobby with fire in her eyes Velma waved Hannah down. “Whoa, Miss Hotsy Totsy. Are you trying to ruin things for all of us or what?”
Hannah wasn’t sure what Velma was griping about, but wondered how the heck she already knew about tonight’s rehearsal. She croaked a woeful apology. “Sorry, it’s my fault. I couldn’t get the song right. My voice is shot.”
Velma looked puzzled. “What are you talking about? What song? What’s the matter with your voice and do you know the Governor’s been calling all week?”
Hannah took a deep breath. Exhaustion was making it hard to focus and Velma was on full throttle. She forced her sluggish brain to think. Her face colored guiltily. She tried to think of a suitable explanation, but couldn’t. She didn’t want to go out with the Governor. “You know the hotel staff fields my calls ever since Booth put you in charge of my social calendar.”
Velma tapped her foot. “Well, last evening I received a call from our esteemed Governor himself at my home, no less. He complained about how difficult it has been to reach you. He wants to make an appearance at the Indigent dinner. He wanted to know if you’re attending. If he could have you seated at his table. He wants you to have supper with him the evening after, a little fete on his yacht.”
“Surely you told him I couldn’t…that I’m working,” she gasped, staring at Velma in horror. “You didn’t tell him I would?”
“I told him you would be delighted to sit at his table and I’d check with you about the evening after, but didn’t foresee any problem.”
She moaned. That’s all she needed, another ardent suitor, a Governor no less. “I wish you wouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to encourage him. Seymour will be here sometime after Christmas.” Geez, she squeaked like a mouse.
Velma looked irritated. “It isn’t every day a girl catches the attention of the city’s most eligible bachelor. Rich too. Remember, good looks don’t last forever and neither does a career. If I were you, I’d make damned sure to pounce while the pouncing is good.” Velma was adamant that she not refuse the Governor.
“As far as Mr. Innorata being in town after Christmas, one thing has nothing to do with the other, besides he’s married. The Governor is unattached and suggested he just might be inclined to book his next campaign party here. Booth was just thrilled about that possibility.”
Hannah was aghast. “You already told Booth?”
Velma nodded, tapping her pen against the book she was holding. “Of course and he said you’ve become quite the asset in more ways than one. Told me to tell you there could be a bonus in it for you if they do book something. A big bonus.”
While she could always use extra money, Hannah felt weary thinking about the benefit dinner now. She didn’t want to encourage the Governor, didn’t want to insult him either. It was a mess for sure. Velma was forever railroading her into doing things she didn’t want to do. “I’m too tired to think about this now.”
Velma eyed her critically. “Yeah, you do look and sound like crap. Go home and get some rest.”
“Gee thanks, Vel,” said Hannah not hiding her sarcasm. “You’re sensitivity overwhelms me.”
“Sensitive? Hmm,” Velma murmured thoughtfully while walking away. “No one ever accused me of that before.”
Three days after Christmas, Hannah and Rosie exchanged gifts. Hannah gave Rosie a gift certificate to Adler’s, along with some stockings, perfume and a watch.
“I’m telling you, Han, this time it’s different, he’s different,” swore Rosie, chattering non-stop about her latest conquest as she handed Hannah a box wrapped with a big purple bow. “I think I finally met the fella who can keep up with me all the way.”
Hannah rolled her eyes before taking the colorful present. Picking out a piece of a chocolate from the box on the table, she popped one into her mouth. Rosie fell in love as regularly as the sun came out. Tearing off the bow, she lifted the lid off the box. “Oh, Rosie, the Billy Burke beauty box I was dyin’ for. And you filled it with all my favorites…I just love this perfume too.”
Grinning, Rosie continued talking about Mike. How he’d taken her to supper in the fanciest place she’d ever been to. “Plus, he gave me candy and this cute little sparkler Christmas day in front of his whole family.”
Hannah’s eyes widened as Rosie wiggled her right hand to show off her ring. Rosie had met the burly, muscled dockworker when she’d stopped into one of West Bottom’s roughest joints to ask for directions. Mike had been helpful and according to Rosie, too manly to resist. “Wow, that’s peachy.”
“Mike calls it a friendship ring. I call it the start of something big,” said Rosie coyly. “It’s been three weeks now, ya know.”
“A record for sure.”
Rosie popped a double chocolate candy into her mouth, chewing enthusiastically. “With all your admirers, I can’t believe you spent Christmas Eve working some charity event, and Christmas day alone. I feel terrible. What was Meg doing?”
“She wasn’t feeling well, stomach bug. It’s okay. I slept most of the day.”
Rosie sighed. “Well, no one should be alone on Christmas. Had I known you could have come with us.”
Hannah sniffed, acting more indifferent than she’d felt at the time. “Thanks, but I’m no third wheel. I drank that fifth of vodka Booth sent and celebrated by opening up all my gifts. I can’t believe so many people gave me things, even people I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re popular.” Hopping over Hannah’s haul of unwrapped gifts lying on the living room rug, Rosie sniffed the huge vase of colorful flowers on the kitchen table. “These babies are expensive and imported. Who sent them?”
“The Governor.” Hannah quickly explained about the Indigent supper and the supper party she’d had to attend the following evening on his yacht.
“After just one little supper date he sent these?”
Hannah winced. “It was awkward. The man is a first class lecher. I refused to be a notch on his belt but I was polite.”
“Well, he’s too old for you anyhow, but I guess it don’t hurt to have powerful acquaintances. To change the subject, would you believe we spent most of our time in West Bottoms with Mike’s entire clan?”
“You actually met them?” Hannah was stunned. Rosie hated family and never even had anything to do with her own.
; She talked about Mike’s huge Italian family and walking towards the kitchen, her green peignoir trailing after her like wings on wind, she filled the tea kettle. Turning on the stove, she swung open the tiny icebox. Frowning, she shut it. “They plied me with eats. Good, hearty, delicious food like we never have here. I probably gained ten pounds.”
Hannah assured her she still looked top hat. “You’re always ravenous when you’re in love, starving yourself when you’re not.”
Rosie admitted that was true. “Mikey is a good man, sweet and as cuddly as a teddy bear. Maybe it’s real this time, Han?”
“Umm, so it’s Mikey now.” Hannah teased, noting Rosie looked radiant. “Next thing I know you’ll make Meg’s prediction come true and go middle aisle on us.”
“Hey, no middle aisle stuff for me, but what can I say? I’m no green girl. I know West Bottom fellas like big Mike Murillo got reputations for being shady characters, but he’s a good man, Han. He dotes on me, we laugh and we play. Ahh… it ain’t no wonder they call ’em Italian Stallions. Italian men are so virile.”
It was hard to imagine, but Hannah wondered if Rosie could really be in love? Would she ever pack it all in for one guy? Unlikely. Though she wanted the best for her friend, the thought of Rosie settling down and moving out scared her. She hadn’t liked being alone on Christmas Day a little and didn’t like the thought of living alone permanently a lot.
7 CHAPTER SEVEN
Hannah walked through Jefferson’s lobby like she owned it, exposing shapely ankles and calves and just enough cleavage to send a twentieth century male’s denied senses reeling. And heads turned, doorman to bellhop, to the staid looking gentleman sitting on the fancy upholstered chair reading his newspaper.
Hair bobbed, face painted to advantage and carrying a package, she wore a clingy eggshell silk dress, the deep V of the neckline framed by swaying pearls. Swinging from her shoulder was a gold mesh Whiting and Davis purse.
The Songbird with Sapphire Eyes Page 7
