The Songbird with Sapphire Eyes

by Anna Brentwood

  His grip on her arm was like a band of steel. He pulled her along past the crowd and into…a closet.

  “I’m flattered you’re tryin’ to get me alone and all honey, but—”

  “Light it, will ya, doll.” He squashed her saucy quip, tossing a book of matches at her. She caught them—barely.

  She lit the match and saw him kneeling, facing the wall. Well, he obviously wasn’t interested in a tryst. She quelled an odd spurt of disappointment. “Okay so why the closet? Don’t you think they’ll find us in here eventually?”

  “We got time. First they gotta take care of the bedlam downstairs and then they gotta break through the steel doors ta get up here.” The match illuminated the small space. With his back to her, Johnny’s hands bracketed two ornate pieces of molding. The skin across his classically chiseled face tightened with impatience as he poked at the wall. “You good at keepin’ secrets, doll?”

  “I’m no blabbermouth, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Good. That is what I mean.” He pushed hard against the wall.

  She watched openmouthed as the wall shifted with a loud creak to reveal a narrow hallway. “Wow, a secret passageway.”

  “C’mon.” He indicated he wanted her to go first, wanted her to be quiet.

  There were slivers of light inside the walls; small fixtures placed every four or five feet or so, just enough to highlight his impeccably dressed frame in shadow. She felt nervous and wet her lips. “You do know where you’re going, right?”

  “I always know where I’m going.”

  She sighed. “I bet you do, Mr. Gallo. I guess this job is toast and just when I was startin’ to like it.”

  “Nah, it’ll be fine.”

  She shrugged, not at all certain of that.

  He looked at her—finally. “So, ya like it, the job I mean?”

  “I’m grateful to have a job, if I still do.”

  “Don’t worry; Tony’s will be open in a day or two.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “I know it, trust me.”

  “I sure hope you’re right.”

  “I know it ain’t as high hat a joint as where ya worked before.”

  “Just singing again is good. Tony’s been real fair to me.”

  “How?”

  “More pay, fewer days, easier work just singing along to popular piano tunes.”

  “You like doin’ that?”

  She hesitated, shrugged. “Tony wouldn’t take no for an answer and he pays me double what I made before.”

  “You still don’t sound like it’s got you stoked.”

  She admitted she missed her old job. “It was fancier, a bigger crowd and singin’ the blues is more my style, but right now, work is scarce and I love entertaining so I can’t complain.”

  He laughed. “I find it difficult to believe a gal like you has had that much misery to sing the blues about.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Johnny eyed her curiously.

  She quickly changed the subject. “What will happen to everyone they catch?”

  “The coppers will put ’em in the slammer for starters,” he muttered. “But, heads are gonna roll over this. Someone made a mistake picking on Tony’s.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Just do.” He glanced at her with eyes that could have been carved from stone.

  She supposed teasing him was like taunting a tiger, not a smart thing to do, but irresistible just the same. “So, do you always know where you’re going, what’s going to happen and the way things will turn out?”

  “Did I say that?” He sounded surprised.

  They walked down about one hundred rough, uneven steps for what felt like forever. The air was musty, dank as the old cellar. She dodged a huge spider dangling in its web, barely restraining a scream. He swatted it to the floor and crushed it with his shoe. She thanked him, uncomfortable with the silence.

  “How did you know about this passageway?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.

  “Not much for talking?”

  “And you, Miss Glidden, ask too many questions.”

  “Funny, my Mama used to say that too. She’d also say, Hannah, stop askin’ so many darn questions. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?” She didn’t know why, but felt the urge to provoke him.

  “Well, your Mama sounds wise.”

  She grinned. “But, Mr. Gallo, cats have nine lives and if I would have listened to my Mama think of all I would have missed out on knowing. Take you for instance. I might not have ever known you.”

  He chuckled. “You surprise me, Miss Glidden jokin’ at a time like this. We ain’t even out of here yet and I for one ain’t anxious to wear stripes again.”

  “You mean you were in jail before?”

  “Yeah.” He warned her to watch her step. “Are you always this nosy?”

  “Are you always so serious?” Johnny Gallo, jailbird or not was as handsome as sin.

  “Probably.”

  She laughed, discomfited by the attraction she felt for him. “I am terribly curious about…things.” Good Lord, she’d almost come right out and said you. “So was jail, terrible?”

  “It ain’t a picnic, but it taught me things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “To think things out, to plan better and not to ever go back.”

  “You probably think I’m deviant for asking, but what did you do?” She tripped and he grabbed her saving her from a fall.

  “I think we need to pay attention to where we’re going, don’t you?”

  Talk about avoiding direct answers. “Sorry. Mama also said I had a knack for askin’ things I shouldn’t, that and a devil’s streak, but I do find all this kind of scary but exciting too, don’t you?”

  “No,” he said, stepping into a square room measuring about twelve by twelve. He headed towards another door. “I never find dealing with the law exciting. Now, breaking it, that’s another thing.”

  She stopped and sucked in her breath. “Are you saying you’re of a criminal bent?”

  He looked directly into her eyes and laughed. “Surely you’re not quite as naïve as you pretend to be.”

  Attraction flowed between them like blood through a vein. Surely, he felt it too? She had to work to keep her voice steady and cool. “Not naïve at all, however while I do try to enjoy life, I don’t usually run the risk of breaking any laws.”

  “Oh, yeah, ya do.”

  Her eyebrows arched.

  “Uncle Sam don’t cotton to joints that sell coffin varnish, or folks that frequent ’em.”

  She smiled sheepishly. He had a point there. “Well, maybe I do have a criminal bent, although I prefer to think I like living big and running by the seat of my pants so to speak, not that I’m wearin’ any, uh, you know, pants.”

  He eyed her dress with burning eyes. “I can see that for myself, Miss Glidden.”

  She flushed again as his eyes raked her from head to toe. Maybe he wasn’t so shy.

  “Living big can be risky, even dangerous. Don’t ya think?”

  Was he baiting her? She toyed with her hair, a smile on her lips. “Maybe, but it’s more fun to live life fully, freely and with pleasure. I’m sure of that.”

  He looked like he couldn’t decide to smack her or devour her in a single gulp. “So, you’re saying you’re a thrill seeking kind of gal—a flapper?”

  “Sort of, that’s not a crime, is it?”

  “It is when you see them flappers doin’ things in public that they shouldn’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “Like smokin’. You don’t look like no flapper to me- more pure…angelic.”

  Her chin came up a notch. “So, you don’t approve of a girl smoking?”

  He snorted. “Ain’t my idea of ladylike.”

  “Shame on you, Mr. Gallo. First of all, I am no angel, nor am I pure. Second, that’s quite an old fashioned point of view, especially from an admitted lawbreaker.”

  He adjuste
d his hat leaving it slung low over his eyes, shadowing them. “I admit to no such thing. All I said—”

  “Was you served time in jail. You wouldn’t say why, but you did hint you enjoy tweakin’ the law, breaking it, which is why we’re both probably a lot more alike than you might think.”

  “Really. Now ya gonna tell me I look like an angel too?”

  Hannah reveled in the amusement she sensed in his tone. “Quite the opposite. I never was very good following rules either, which is probably why being “ladylike” always sounds pretty darn dull to me, you know, all silly rules and regulations.”

  He stiffened. “I’ll bet when ya land a husband he’ll have somethin’ to say about that.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Good Lord, I have no intention of ever acquiring one of those.”

  “Why? Ya got something against men?”

  “No, just marriage,” she said dismissively. “People change after they get married and men cheat on their wives all the time. Besides, who wants to be tied up with one fella forever anyways? Me, I prefer being independent, carefree and having choices.”

  He idly stroked the door knob. “Are you independent and carefree with choices now?”

  “I’m workin’ on it,” she teased.

  “Yeah, so am I.” He threw open the door and quickly took his gun out, startling her.

  Her eyes went wide at the gun he held in his hand even though she didn’t feel any fear. “Planning on shooting somebody?”

  He looked down at the gun and back at her. “In my line of work and with the way the rummies are trying to cut into the action of decent businessmen, it don’t hurt to be cautious, Miss Glidden.” He indicated with a wave of the gun that she should precede him.

  She came to a small, damp alcove. It led to another room that appeared to be a cellar. There were crude wooden crates stacked against the walls. They were loaded with labeled whiskey, rum, beer, wine and gin bottles. Her jaw went slack.

  He smiled a tight lipped smile as he holstered his gun. “Now, Miss Glidden this is the part where keeping quiet is real important.”

  A shiver moved over her skin, her mind reeling at the sight of all that illegal hooch. He reached out, tilting her chin up. She couldn’t help but look at him. For a moment she felt something akin to fear and had to fight the urge to look away from the black eyes probing secrets she’d vowed never to share. “I don’t see anything, I swear.”

  “Good girl. I had a feeling there was more to ya than just a gorgeous package.”

  She swallowed hard as he let her go. What would he think if he knew he made her thoughts scatter and her pulse race all over the place without even trying? It wasn’t like her to be so affected by a man. She hoped it didn’t show and schooled her voice back into a teasing mode.

  “I think rescuing me is becoming a bad habit for you, Mr. Gallo?”

  He shrugged, all male and so handsome she wanted to scream. Instead, she concentrated on a nail on the wall. “So, tell me, Mr. Gallo. Do you make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress?”

  “Nah, you’re the first,” he admitted, distracted as he scanned the room. “But then again, you seem to attract trouble, not that tonight is your fault.”

  “Gee, thanks for that,” she sneered.

  He made his way over to a tall ladder. “Leg up?”

  She winced thinking of her short dress and raw silk heels. “Do I have a choice?”

  “It’s this or stay down here `til the coast is clear, which can be tomorrow or the next day. He pointed towards the ladder. “Ladies first.”

  Hand on her hip; she paused. “How ’bout you go first, or maybe you’re anglin’ for a look up my dress?”

  Crossing his arms, Johnny faced her squarely. “Miss Glidden, if I wanted to look up your dress I would, but right now I’m more concerned about getting away. The way out’s up there.” Looking annoyed, he turned to grab the ladder and started climbing first.

  “Be direct, why don’t you.” She kicked off her shoes. What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he take a joke? He ran hot one minute, bantering and teasing, then turned cold and distant the next. Grabbing her shoes, she slowly climbed the ladder.

  When she reached the top rung, she wasn’t prepared for the jolt of awareness that arced when she took his hand. Her skin tingled, alive with a will of its own.

  His stare remained hard and penetrating as he helped her up. “Oh and Miss Glidden…I ain’t shy about being direct. I wouldn’t be content with just a look up your dress.”

  Thunder rolled like applause. Johnny impulsively tucked an escaped tendril away from her eyes. “Look, doll. I gotta get to a telephone and we need to get away from here. Can you run or at least try to keep up with me if I hold on to you?”

  She nodded, wincing slightly at the downpour as he held her arm and they ran. The rain made hash out of her expensive dress and shoes. Minutes later her dress was clinging to her like a second skin leaving little to the imagination. Johnny paused just long enough to take off his hat. He shook the water out of the brim. He slipped his coat over her shoulders. “Here, ya better take this.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, immediately swallowing yet another huge raindrop as water dripped down her face and kept on coming. She knew she must look a sight with her make-up running and her hair a sopping mess. “How far do we have to go?”

  “Eight blocks north.”

  They could still hear sirens and bells close by, but the streets were deserted. Pulling his coat around her like a cloak, she sniffed warmed by his scent still clinging to the garment. Her shoes were ruined beyond repair and making squishy, embarrassing noises. Tonight’s adventure seemed surreal. The night smelled pungent. Lightening slashed the night sky above them. It highlighted the dark ominous clouds and crescent moon, as mysterious as the man pulling her along, a man who wore danger like cologne. He stirred her senses in ways she barely remembered them being stirred before. For one crazy moment, she felt as ethereal and misty as the fog rolling around them.

  Loving Ray had taught her caring too much hurt. Since then she’d learned to play the men in her life strictly for pleasure, advantage, or pure fun. Could she risk caring for someone who already elicited such powerful feelings in her? She didn’t know. Breathless and gasping, she begged him to slow down, ten maybe fifteen minutes later he finally complied.

  Stopping under a church overhang, he miraculously produced a dry handkerchief which he proceeded to use to gently wipe her face. “You okay?”

  Light suddenly lit the sky as their eyes melded. All Hannah’s senses felt alive and desire as powerful as thunder shook her. His mouth was enticing and sensuous. He had a strong, full bottom lip. She would have bolted if she didn’t feel so…wet. She shook her head, running her hands through her hair. “I need a brush and a cigarette and I forgot my purse…I must’ve left it at Tony’s.”

  Johnny lit one of his own cigarettes. Even though she could tell he didn’t want to, he handed it to her and watched her inhale. His displeasure was palpable. “I don’t like to see a dame smoke.”

  She exhaled, refusing to be cowed by his censure. His face was so close to her. A lock of his hair had fallen over his eye making him look rakish and as irresistible as a piece of rock candy. She reached, playfully swatting at it and inhaling then exhaling, blew smoke in his face. “Yeah, you mentioned that. If you don’t want to see, you don’t have to look.”

  Bemusement and anger stirred on his face, but he remained silent.

  She finished the entire cigarette before dropping it. It was quickly doused by the rain.

  She wasn’t sure how it happened, but before she could think, he took hold of the lapels of his coat. He pulled it around her, like a cocoon. He met her lips with a passion that all but exploded. His lips were as warm and demanding as his whispered plea. “Tell me to stop.”

  Part of her wanted to cringe at her lack of will, yet she couldn’t think straight with him so close. It was an outrageous attraction, fed by years of mind numbing contro
l. She was still clinging to him when he pulled away. “Damn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I usually don’t lose control like that.”

  “Don’t,” she begged. “No fella should apologize after he knocks the stockings off a gal with one kiss.”

  “Miss Glidden—Hannah. Is it okay if I call you that?”

  She arched her brow. “After that smacker, I’d say it was.”

  He looked solemn. “Look, I’m—”

  “Don’t, Mr. Gallo, it’s nothing.” She warded off the apology.

  “Call me, Johnny.”

  “Okay, Johnny.” She tried to sound flippant. “Hey, we got caught up in the moment. You’re sorry, I’m sorry, forgotten, let’s get going. You wanted to get to a telephone.” She started walking, but he grabbed her. He turned her around to face him. She squirmed huffily, but couldn’t avoid his eyes.

  “Just listen, will ya.” He looked frustrated. “I got some jack stashed. I am on my way up in the world and I ain’t got no kick…that means nothin’ to complain about. I got that way by thinking before giving into base impulses.”

  “That’s swell,” said Hannah, forcing a smile to her face. So kissing her was a base impulse. A mistake. “I can get with the idea of money in the bank.”

  “So, you saying you’re a gold digger?”

  “Nope, just a girl who admires ambition and gets by the best she can on her own. I work too, by the way.”

  He looked thoughtful, studying her diamonds. “So, how many boyfriends ya got?”

  “A gentleman never asks!”

  “Did I say I was a gentleman?”

  She laughed.

  “So how old are ya, Hannah?”

  “Old enough,” she said anxiously. “How old are you?”

  “Older than you, thirty-three.”

  She nodded. He was seventeen years older then her.

  “Keep your secrets for now, doll. You miffed about that kiss or my stoppin’ it?”

  “What?” The man was not only blunt but conceited too.

  “I didn’t want our first time to be in no alcove like two rats in an alley.”

  “You certainly assume a lot, Mr. Gallo and I don’t like being considered someone’s base impulse.”