Speak Low

by Melanie Harlow

  “So where’s that handsome man of yours? He dump you already?” Rosie’s shrill voice grated my last nerve. My nostrils flared as I took in her bobbed blond curls, perfectly coiffed around her flawless face, set off by a headband that sat low on her forehead. Her porcelain skin appeared even whiter than usual behind splashes of scarlet on her lips and cheeks, like blood in the snow.

  “He’s busy.” Turning my attention to Joey, I gasped. “You’re still bleeding.”

  Rosie squealed and shrank away from him. “Ew, what happened?”

  “Nothing.” Joey pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his face. “Just a bloody nose.” He met my eyes and the secret passed between us. My heart beat a little faster.

  “Oh. I’ve never had one of those.” Rosie sounded as if we were talking about a giant wart or a festering wound.

  “It’s nothing, but I should leave.” He braced himself on the table to stand.

  “Wait—don’t go.” I put my hand over his, which was already bruised from the fight.

  “Yeah, don’t go yet,” Rosie put in. “I want to dance with you again.”

  But I wasn’t about to let her take him away. Not when another slow, sexy blues had just started. “Dance with me?” The words slipped out before I realized what I was saying.

  Surprise flashed in his brown eyes. “You want to dance with me? To this?” He didn’t even bother to mask his shock.

  “Yeah.” I set my little mesh bag on the table and slid out from the booth. “I do.” My heart was pounding now. Would he turn me down? Or worse, dance with Rosie instead?

  “All right.”

  I had to look carefully to be sure he wasn’t joking, but his expression was serious.

  “Don’t be too long, now” Rosie called, a false cheery note in her voice.

  We walked onto the dance floor, my knees jittering uncontrollably. What was I thinking, asking him to dance with me to this song? We might have done a tame fox trot or an awkward waltz at Bridget’s wedding, but that was in a room full of relatives, and we’d probably kept enough space between us to park a car. This was something altogether different. Where would he rest his hands? Was I supposed to put my arms around him like Rosie had? What if Enzo saw us?

  Actually, that thought spurred my confidence a little. Let him see us. Serves him right.

  In the back of my mind was the dim realization I’d had the same exact thought in reverse just a week ago—I’d wanted Joey to see me with Enzo and be jealous. Tonight…I didn’t understand it completely, but I didn’t want Joey to leave, and it wasn’t only because I wanted to know what Enzo had said.

  We found a sliver of open space and Joey reached for me, slipping his right arm across my lower back, and taking my right hand in his left. I rested my other hand on the top of his shoulder. Despite the crowded floor, he left so much space between us that I was disappointed. We might as well do the foxtrot, I thought grumpily.

  But when he started to move, he pulled me into his torso, tight. As tightly as he’d held Rosie, maybe even tighter.

  My breath hitched and my heart hammered my ribs so hard I was certain he could feel it. He swayed me in time to the lazy, throbbing rhythm, leading me so surely that my feet never fell out of step with his. God, the way he moved his body, and mine along with it…it was slow and sexy and sinuous. Warmth pooled at my center. My breaths started to come faster, and my dress felt heavy on my skin. Had it been this warm in here all night? I could smell the perfume I’d dotted behind my ears and between my breasts and at the backs of my knees, and hoped he could too. My left hand inched along the rough fabric of his coat until my fingers curved around his neck.

  His movement slowed.

  Rising on tiptoe, I pressed my face into the space between his ear and his collar.

  He stopped dancing.

  I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of his skin invade me. Soap and starch and aftershave, and the barest trace of something else—something delicious but not sweet, something herbal that brought the memory of cooking with him into sharp relief. My mouth watered.

  His turned his head and I felt his lips against my temple. “Move your feet, Tiny.” His voice was strained.

  Oh—right. Was it me who’d stopped dancing? Recovering my senses, I let him lead me again, but I didn’t let him pull away. Against my chest I could feel him breathing, and I adjusted my breaths to his so that every part of our bodies moved in tandem, even our lungs. My body hummed with pleasure, warm and decadent. And though I knew it was wrong and misleading and maybe even dangerous if Enzo was watching, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to the side of his neck.

  Immediately I felt him spring to life against my hip. Arousal fluttered between my legs and hollowed out my insides.

  He pushed me away. “What are you doing?” His eyes swept the room, as if he was trying to make sure Enzo hadn’t seen us. “Are you crazy?”

  I found that extraordinarily funny and started to giggle. “Yes. I think I am.”

  Joey rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me back toward the table. “You’re drunk,” he said through clenched teeth over his shoulder, “and I can’t handle this tonight. I don’t know why I even bothered to try.” We reached the booth and he shoved me in across from Rosie, who was fuming and trying to hide it.

  “Well,” she said, bringing her cigarette to her lips for a puff. “That looked cozy.”

  Joey looked around as he adjusted his pants. “Where’s your ride home, Tiny?”

  I shrugged. “Dancing?”

  “I’ve had it with this joint.” Rosie stubbed her cigarette out and looked up at Joey, batting her lashes. “You wanna go someplace quiet, sugar?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “See you around, kid.” Rosie offered me a smug look as Joey took her hand to help her from the booth.

  It was my turn to fume. They walked off without looking back while I pursed my lips and tried not to stare at Joey’s ass. Fine, go! Beside the fact that dancing with Joey had me so riled up I could hardly sit still, I hadn’t asked him what he and Enzo had discussed, although he probably wouldn’t have told me anyway. As usual, the men called all the shots.

  The bottles of champagne were still on the table, so I poured the remains of one into a glass and drank it down. Fast. Then I poured from another and did it again. Nothing about this night had gone as planned. I was wound up, I was jealous, and I was alone.

  I was also drunk.

  Propping my chin in my hand, I scowled at the tilting, swirling room full of happy people dancing to happy music. I hated all of them but Evelyn. I hated Rosie for taking Joey away and I hated Joey for leaving. I hated Enzo for his games and his goddamn good looks, and I especially hated myself.

  At that moment, a flash of gold caught my eye, and I forced myself to focus on it. Gina was headed toward the ladies room with a friend. Good idea. I need to reapply my lipstick too. And if I happened to engage her in a little conversation…

  Picking up my purse from the table, I stumbled after her.

  #

  A lot of speakeasies had been men’s clubs or saloons in the past, which, of course, were not equipped with bathrooms for women. I had no idea what the history of this building was, but the door labeled Ladies Room was near the hat-check, and when I entered, I almost ran headlong into the sloping ceiling. The room appeared to be tucked beneath a stairway or something. Ducking the sharply pitched angle, I headed through a little lounge area cloudy with smoke, nodded at the attendant, and entered the only unoccupied stall. On either side of me, girls chattered away.

  “I still can’t believe you’re getting married next weekend,” said the girl on my right.

  “I can,” squeaked someone on my left.

  Fucking Gina. Her voice was like chalk on a slate.

  “He’s been putting me off all year,” she went on. “I would have liked a ring by now, though, or at least some kind of diamonds. Last week he hinted around that he had a gift for me, but I got nothin’
to show for it.”

  The necklace. I brought a hand to my throat, nearly gagging.

  I was wearing Gina’s engagement present?

  “You know he’ll get you something. That’s how these guys work. They’re all down and worried one day and riding high, flush with cash the next.”

  “He better.” The toilet on the left flushed noisily. “I told him I want a rock for each month he made me wait around.”

  Her friend laughed. “That’ll be one a hell of a gift, then.”

  “No kiddin.’” Gina exited the stall and I heard the water come on at a sink. “I just wish he’d pay more attention to me when I’m here. He’s always so busy.”

  The toilet flushed on the right, and her friend joined her at the sinks. “Well, I guess that’s the price you pay for marrying somebody like Enzo DiFiore. I still can’t believe he’s gonna go through with it.”

  “For cryin’ out loud, Valerie, can you stop saying that?” Gina screeched. “What’s so goddamn hard about believing he’s gonna marry me like he promised?”

  “Don’t have a kitten, Gina. All I meant was that he seemed so reluctant to actually say ‘I do’ before this week. Now all of a sudden it’s a rush job.”

  “Rush job! I been waiting six months for this. I don’t know any other girl who had to wait so long. Daddy was getting as anxious as I was.”

  “Well, I guess he came to his senses,” soothed Valerie.

  “Yeah. Either that or someone showed him what would happen to his senses if he didn’t do the deed.” Gina giggled. “I think Daddy might have had a little man to man chat with him.”

  Her friend gasped. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Hey, gimme that lipstick.”

  I waited in agony as they touched up their lips.

  “Why does your father want you to get married so badly? Ouch!”

  For a second I was confused and then I realized Gina must have slapped her or something.

  “It’s not about what he wants, dimwit, it’s about what I want! It pays to be Daddy’s little girl, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m just trading in for a younger, handsomer model.” Gina giggled. “One with all the right equipment. And boy does he know how to use it!”

  My stomach heaved as Valerie squealed. “You’re telling me! He’s about the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. You’re so lucky.”

  “Honey, it ain’t luck. I know how to use my equipment too.”

  “You’re so naughty,” chided Valerie. I heard the clink of coins and figured they were tipping the attendant.

  “At least I’m not boring,” said Gina. “You’ve gotta be naughty to keep a man like that. Otherwise, they’ll start running around.”

  “Honey, they all run around eventually,” Valerie said confidently.

  “Well, if Enzo does, my Daddy will cut off his balls before he even sees the knife coming. Or I’ll do it myself.” They laughed again as they exited into the lounge. “Val, you got a ciggie?”

  The music got louder when they opened the ladies room door, and then it was muted again. They were gone.

  My heart was beating so fast and loud it sounded like a locomotive in my head. Was there such a thing as a heart attack brought on by anger? If so, I was about to suffer one. I shoved the heel of my hand into the side of the stall, hard.

  “Miss? Are you all right?” the attendant asked.

  I sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. I just…bumped into the wall.” Rolling my eyes at the lame explanation, I decided to actually use the facilities since I was in there. When I came out, I washed my hands, and tipped her with some loose change from my purse.

  What I didn’t do was look in the mirror. I dreaded the sight of my stupid, gullible face.

  Ducking the slanted ceiling, I left the bathroom and started for the booth. I had to pass by Gina’s table, and at first I hoped no one would notice me, but then I happened to look up and notice Enzo lighting her cigarette again.

  “Fuck it.” I swore softly and turned on my heel, heading straight for them.

  Chapter Eight

  “Good evening.” I greeted the table with a friendly smile. Gina looked at me as if I were a bug to be shooed away but Enzo’s face drained of color. Good.

  “Miss O’Mara,” he said. “How nice to see you again. You remember my fiancée, Gina Meloni?”

  I wasn’t sure if the emphasis was because he thought I didn’t recognize her, or if it was supposed to serve as a warning to behave myself. Either way, I didn’t much care. “Of course. And what a lovely dress you’re wearing. I just adore it.”

  Gina smiled, smoke seeping from her lips. “It’s from New York. It was a gift from Enzo. He’s always buying me something.”

  “Mr. Generosity.” I met Enzo’s eyes. “Got a cigarette to spare?”

  “Certainly.” He removed a gold case from his coat and opened it. While I chose one, he glanced at Gina, who was staring at the diamonds at my throat. “Allow me to light it for you and escort you back to your table, Miss O’Mara.”

  I lifted my shoulders. “If you insist.”

  “Say, that’s some serious ice around your neck.” Gina pointed at the choker. “Enzo, you see that?”

  “I do.” He brandished a lighter and flicked the switch, pinning me with a look that said stay quiet.

  “That’s the kind of gift I want next.” Gina pouted as I leaned closer to Enzo and allowed the small flame to light the cigarette between my lips.

  I took in a lungful of smoke and exhaled. “You should get her one, Enzo. When is the wedding anyway?”

  “Next Saturday,” answered Gina. “We just can’t wait any longer, can we, darling?”

  I feigned a swoon, putting a hand over my heart. “How romantic!”

  “What about you? You got a fella?”

  “Me? No.”

  If we were on the playground, the look she gave me might have been accompanied by a bratty little nyah-nyah. “So who bought you those goods?”

  I looked at Enzo again, who was gripping the back of Gina’s chair so hard, I thought he might break it in half. Oh, how I loved to see him squirm. “Just an admirer,” I said airily.

  Gina was intrigued. “Is he handsome?”

  “Indeed he is.”

  “And rich?”

  “Well…” I pretended to think this over. “He does have a nice new motorcar.”

  “So does Enzo,” she said, smug-faced. “A Packard. Daddy bought it for us as an early wedding gift. Isn’t that right, honey?” She glanced back at her fiancé.

  I nearly vomited.

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Tiny, are you ready to go?”

  “Absolutely.” I stubbed out my cigarette in the ashtray in front of Gina. “Enjoy your evening, Miss Meloni. And congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

  Enzo grabbed my arm and yanked me sideways before she even had a chance to reply. “What the hell was that?” he hissed in my ear. “Are you out of your mind? Her father will kill me!”

  “Good,” I snapped. “Saves me the trouble!” I shrugged out of his grasp and tried to run through the crowd, but it was too thick. He got me by one elbow and dragged me over to the booth, which was empty. “Stop acting like a child,” he demanded, shoving me onto the bench. “Give me a chance to explain.”

  I looked up at him angrily. “Why should I?”

  “Because… I have something for you.”

  I lifted my chin higher. “Not. Interested.”

  A knowing smile snuck onto his lips. “You will be when you see it. Meet me out front in ten minutes.”

  “You don’t really expect me to go somewhere alone with you, do you?”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “You want to take me somewhere, you have to tell me what you said to Joey tonight.”

  Anger darkened his complexion. “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “Then I’m leaving. Alone.” I stood and tried to get past him, but he
blocked my way, gripping me by the upper arms.

  “No. You’re going to stay here and wait for me.”

  Something in his tone made me clam up instead of making a sharp-tongued retort or kneeing him in the balls, which was another compulsion I occasionally had around him. I froze, my gaze sliding to one of his hands squeezing my skin.

  He must have realized he’d gone too far, because he let go and glanced around to make sure no one was watching us. “I’m sorry,” he said, softer now. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You hurt me.” I rubbed my upper arms.

  “I said, I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. You’re sorry. I’d still be crazy to go anywhere alone with you.”

  “Tiny, please.” He brought his fingertips to his forehead. “I’m sorry I grabbed you that way, but you just do something to me, something I can hardly control, and it drives me crazy when I see you and can’t touch you. That’s all.”

  “That doesn’t excuse your behavior tonight. And there is no way I’m going to sit in this club any longer and watch you fawn all over the future fucking missus.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

  “I told you. I want to know why you asked Joey here.”

  He opened his eyes and stared hard at me. “Fine. Meet me outside in ten minutes.”

  #

  When Enzo went to make his excuses to Gina, I tugged Evelyn off the dance floor just long enough to whisper my plans to her and tell her not to worry. “Now if only you can ditch Walter somewhere, you could have the back seat of Ted’s car all to yourself.” I tried to keep my tone bright.

  She shoved me playfully but gave me a conspiratorial wink. “The front seat’s just as comfortable, you know.”

  Yes, indeed I do. I made my way to the exit. But I wasn’t going to let him touch me that way tonight. Not a chance. I just have to be strong, that’s all. I have to let him know that he can’t expect me to sit idly by while he chauffeurs Gina around in his shiny Packard during the day, and then expects to fool around with me in it after dark. The nerve of him!

  Last Saturday night it had seemed glamorous and exciting, but now the experience had lost its allure, and I wasn’t even thinking about the way the evening had ended in the boathouse. How dare he come for me in the car her father bought for them? As a wedding gift!