79 Park Avenue

by Harold Robbins

  “Twelve,” she answered.

  Then he understood. He turned to look at her. “You’re Ross’s girl.” It was more a statement than a question.

  Her face was expressionless, she didn’t speak.

  He stopped the car between floors and turned away from the board. “You are Ross’s girl?” he repeated.

  “Am I?” she asked challengingly. “You ought to know. You’re an expert on broads. Seen one an’ you seen ’em all.”

  His face flushed. She had heard him the other night. No wonder she had acted the way she had. It was her only way to get even. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She didn’t answer.

  He looked up at her. “I said, I’m sorry.”

  Her gaze was still cold and level. “I heard you.”

  He began to feel angry. “You might at least say something.”

  She smiled. “Hooray.” Her eyes stared into his. “What’re you lookin’ for—applause?”

  He leaned against the wall of the car. He knew how to treat dames like this. He surveyed her carefully from head to toe. This always made them uncomfortable. No babe liked to be stared at as he was doing.

  She didn’t speak, and when his eyes came back to her face he saw no trace of embarrassment.

  “Ross was right,” he said cuttingly. “You’re built for it.”

  There was confidence in her eyes. “Thanks,” she said dryly. “I needed you to tell me. I was beginning to worry.”

  A smile came to his lips. He was sure of himself now. She was nothing but a cheap little teasing floosie. He reached out his hand and pulled her toward him.

  She smiled and came toward him willingly. He looked down into her face. Her eyes were sparkling. He bent to kiss her.

  He felt her hand move behind his back, and suddenly the elevator floor dropped out sickeningly from beneath him. For a bewildered second he stood paralysed. Then with a muttered curse he turned and grabbed the lever.

  He snapped into stop-and-lock and hoped that it would take. She had thrown it into fast drop. He heard the power whine, and the car stopped.

  He turned back to her. “You crazy bitch!” he snarled. “We could’ve been killed!”

  There was a wild excitement in her face that he had never seen on anyone. There was no trace of fear in her. “Really?” she asked, politely sarcastic. “That would have been too bad.”

  He turned back to the lever and started the car upward again. “Okay,” he said. The car rose slowly. He stopped at Ross’s floor and opened the door.

  She stepped out of the car. “Thank you, Mike,” she said politely, smiling at him.

  “You’re welcome,” he said in an equally formal tone. He kept the door open as she walked down the corridor. He watched her in the mirror in the corner of the elevator. She had a good walk, and she knew it.

  He saw her stop in front of Ross’s door and press the buzzer. The door opened almost immediately. He could see the smile on Ross’s face and hear his voice.

  “Come in, Marja, I was waitin’ for you.”

  The door closed behind them. He stood there a moment, then closed the elevator door and dropped the car back to the lobby. He put the lock on the door and sat down on the bench, picking up his math book again.

  He stared down at the pages with unseeing eyes. She was standing in front of him. He snapped the book angrily shut. It was no use. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  He could see her walking down the corridor away from him. He could see Ross’s smile and hear his greeting. He got to his feet and went back into the elevator.

  It wasn’t until he stopped the car on Ross’s floor that it came to him. For the first time in his life he was jealous over a girl.

  A buzz came from inside the elevator. He got to his feet and looked at the board. The red letters blinked at him: 12. He snapped the door shut and pulled the lever.

  He waited until she came into the car before he spoke. “Marja, I’m sorry. I had yuh pegged wrong.”

  She looked at him sceptically.

  “I mean it, Marja,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to act nasty.”

  The doubt began to fade from her eyes. For the first time he realised how deep and dark her eyes were. “Things ain’t easy for me like they are for Ross,” he continued. “Ross is bright and fast. I don’t get nothin’ unless I sweat it out.”

  She smiled at him. It was a real smile, warm and genuine. “I wasn’t so nice either,” she admitted. “We’ll call it square.”

  He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

  She took it, smiling. “Deal.”

  He looked down at her hand, small in his palm. “Are yuh really Ross’s girl?”

  “Ross is nice to me,” she said. “Real nice. Not like most fellas, if yuh know what I mean.”

  He nodded. “Ross is a nice guy.” He looked up at her face; still holding her hand. “Yuh think, sometime, maybe, we can take in a show?”

  She nodded silently, her eyes on his face. Something was happening to her. It came from his hand to her, something that had never happened before. She knew a lot of boys, and they never bothered her like this. She was always sure of how she felt about them. But this was different. It was another kind of feeling. A kind of weakness inside.

  He stepped toward her. She raised her mouth to his lips. Even the kiss was different. It was warm and sweet and gentle and hungry and possessive. She closed her eyes. It was floating in warm, lazy water. She could feel a heat running through her. Instinctively she knew what it was. This wasn’t the game that it had been with others. This was her very own. The way she felt. The beginning of desire.

  She pushed him away. Her face was flushed. “Take me down,” she said in a small, embarrassed voice.

  “Marja,” Mike said huskily.

  She didn’t look at him. “Take me down, please,” she repeated, wondering what could be wrong with her. She felt warm and happy, and yet she felt like crying.

  He turned and started the car. They didn’t speak again until the car stopped at the lobby. He opened the door and turned to her.

  “I’ll see yuh again?” he asked.

  She looked at him for a moment. “If you want to.” Then she turned and fled from the elevator and out of the house.

  She climbed the stairs slowly to her landing. She didn’t understand herself. Boys were all alike. They were a game she played. Something impersonal, like the jacks she used to tumble on the stoop, or hopscotch. It was fun to her, a curious sense of power, of strength, of superiority. But this had been different. Mike had been different. And she didn’t know why.

  A retching sound came from the toilet in the hall. She glanced toward the closed door, wondering who was sick now. That was one of the things she resented. You couldn’t be sick in private when the toilets were in the hallway.

  The toilet door opened and her stepfather came out. He saw her standing at the kitchen door. “Get a glass of water,” he called. “Your mother is sick!”

  Quickly she filled a tumbler at the sink and ran back into the hallway. The toilet door was open now. She could see her mother leaning weakly against the wall, her stepfather’s arm under her shoulders.

  He took the glass from her hand and held it to Katti’s lips. Katti rinsed her mouth quickly and spat into the bowl, then drank the rest of the water thirstily.

  It was not until then that Marja spoke. “What’s the matter, Mama?”

  Katti shook her head weakly. “It’s nothing. I just felt nauseous.”

  “But—” Marja was bewildered. Her mother was never sick to her stomach. Only the last time—when Peter was born. A sudden fear came into her. She looked at her mother questioningly. It couldn’t be that again. The doctor had said she shouldn’t. “Mama, are you all right?”

  Katti nodded her head. She started to speak, but her husband took the words from her mouth.

  “Of course she’s all right,” he said coarsely. “It’s nothing to throw up when you’re pregnant
.”

  Marja stared at her mother, unbelieving. “No, Mama, you can’t be,” she said in a hurt, protesting voice. “The doctor said it was too dangerous.”

  Katti tried to smile. “You can’t always believe them. They’re always trying to scare you.”

  Peter threw out his chest boastfully. “It will be another boy,” he said proudly. “I got it all figured out.”

  Marja stared at him coldly. “You got everything figured out, haven’t you?”

  He nodded, grinning. “Yah.”

  “While you’re at it, figure out how we’re gonna eat when Mama has to stop working,” she snapped.

  He stared at her in bewilderment.

  “And figure out who’s gonna keep yuh in beer, ’cause it ain’t gonna be me.” She turned and ran down the stairs.

  “Marja!” Katti called. But it was too late. Marja was already out of sight. Katti could hear her footsteps on the flight below.

  She looked at her husband for a moment, then turned and walked back into the apartment. A pain ran through her for a moment, and she felt weak. She wanted to lie down for a while. Maybe she would feel better then. Maybe this depression she felt would disappear. Father Janowicz was right.

  She should have had the courage to tell Marja herself. It was her own fault. Maybe then she could have made Marja understand.

  Chapter Twelve

  “JOKER’S RUNNING A game in the back room,” Ross said.

  Mike looked up. That familiar expression was in his friend’s eyes—a yellow glow of excitement. “So what?” Mike asked.

  “I’d like to get in on it,” Ross said.

  Mike got to his feet and looked down at Ross. “Yuh know what your old man said. Get into trouble an’ he packs you off to the country for the summer.”

  “I won’t get into trouble,” Ross insisted. “Just feel like a little charge, that’s all.”

  Mike shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what you said the last time. Your father yelled murder when he had to get you out of the can.”

  “He’ll never know,” Ross answered, remembering the time he had been grabbed with a gang shooting craps behind a garage. “Joker says he’s got protection.”

  “Go ahead,” Mike said, turning away. “It’s your funeral.”

  “I wanted you to come with me,” Ross said.

  Mike looked at him. “What for? I got no dough.”

  “I’m takin’ Marja with me,” Ross answered, “an’ I don’t want those wolves makin’ passes when my back is turned.”

  Mike was interested. “Then leave her home.”

  “No. I got a hunch she’s lucky for me.” Ross smiled apologetically. He had a real gambler’s apologia for his superstitions. “I think I can make it real big with her around.”

  “Nuts,” Mike said.

  Ross looked at him. “Got something better to do?”

  Mike shook his head. He was thinking about Marja. It had been more than a week since he had met her in the elevator. He still hadn’t been able to get up the courage to try to see her.

  “Come on, then,” Ross urged. “Live a little. What’re you going to do? Spend the rest of your life with your nose in those

  “Okay,” Mike said.

  Marja was sitting in the car. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Mike approaching. Ross reached the car first and opened the door.

  “I been waiting a long time to get the two of you together,” he said. “Marja, my friend Mike. Mike, this is my girl.”

  A flush crept into Marja’s face. A smile came to her lips as she held out her hand. “I heard a lot about you,” she said almost formally.

  Mike was a little embarrassed. He played along with her. “Me, too,” he mumbled, taking her hand. It was warm and electric in his grip. He dropped it quickly.

  “Shove over,” Ross said to her as he climbed into the car. “Mike is coming with us.”

  Neither Marja nor Mike spoke until they reached the dance hall. Ross kept a steady flow of comment. If he noticed that they weren’t speaking, he said nothing about it. They got a table near the floor. It was almost nine o’clock and the floor was fairly crowded.

  Ross ordered beer for Mike and himself and a Coke for Marja. He looked out over the floor, his eyes sparkling. “I gotta check Joker an’ see what time the game starts.”

  “It’ll start soon enough,” Mike grunted. He looked at Marja, and a slight sarcasm came into his voice. “Why don’t you dance with your girl first?”

  Ross shook his head peremptorily. “No,” he answered. “You two go ahead. I’ll check up on things.”

  Marja got to her feet and Mike stared at her in surprise. She smiled. “Well?”

  He got out of his chair and led her to the floor. The orchestra was playing a fast foxtrot. He felt himself tighten as she came into the circle of his arms. He stumbled almost immediately, stepping on her foot.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he muttered, his face turning red.

  She smiled up at him. “Relax,” she said. “I won’t eat you.”

  They danced for a moment in silence, then she spoke again. “I thought you were going to see me.”

  “I’ve been busy,” he answered. He took a few steps. “Besides, you’re Ross’s girl.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she said.

  “But he did,” Mike countered. “And you didn’t stop him.”

  “I can’t keep him from talkin’,” she answered. “Besides, you never told him you knew me.”

  “You didn’t say anything either.” He looked down into her face. “I kind uh got the idea you didn’t want to.”

  The music stopped and she broke away from him. She started from the floor and he followed her back to the table. She stopped in front of Ross. “I want a beer,” she said.

  Ross didn’t look at her. “Sure, baby, sure,” he answered. He was watching a small door across the floor.

  Mike stood behind her chair and she sat down. He pushed his glass toward her. “Drink this.” he said. “I’ll get another.”

  She picked it up and drank some. He looked at her, wondering what he had said that had made her angry. She didn’t speak.

  “Well?” Mike asked Ross.

  “I’m waiting,” Ross answered. “The waiter said he’d check an’ let me know.”

  Marja was bewildered. “Let you know what?” she asked. “I thought we came to dance.”

  Ross looked at her. It was almost as if she were a stranger. He didn’t seem to see her at all. “Explain it, Mike,” he said, waving his hand.

  Mike felt an anger inside him. Same old Ross. Leave the dirty work for others. “Explain it yourself,” he said.

  Ross looked at them, his eyes suddenly clearing. “What’s the matter with you two?” he asked.

  They didn’t answer.

  He looked at Marja. “I came to get onto the game that Joker spoke to me about, that’s all.”

  Marja got to her feet. “Then what the hell did you ask me to go dancing for?” she asked. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” She turned away.

  Ross grabbed her arm. “I wanted you with me for luck,” he said with a smile. “I got a hunch you’re good for me.”

  She looked down at him. “What about Mike?” she questioned shrewdly. “Yuh bring him along to watch out for me?”

  “Sure,” Ross said, still smiling. “Think I’m gonna take any chances with all these wolves around? At least Mike’s my friend. I know I can depend on him.”

  Mike looked at her, then across the table at him. A slow smile came over his lips. “I wouldn’t be top sure of that, Ross,” he said.

  Ross’s eyes grew cold. “What d’yuh mean?”

  Mike didn’t take his eyes from Marja’s face. “Like yuh said, Ross. She’s terrific.”

  A slow smile came to Marja’s face and she sat down. “Okay, boys,” she said, laughter deep in her voice, “fight over me.”

  They all burst into a raucous, happy laugh.

  The slight beads of perspirati
on stood out clearly on Ross’s forhead as he reached for the dice. He turned to Marja and held them toward her. “Blow on ’em for luck, baby.”

  Marja pursed her lips and blew into his cupped palm. “Get hot,” she said, looking down at the shrinking pile of money in front of Ross. He hadn’t been doing well. She figured he must have lost almost forty dollars.

  “Blow harder,” he said in a tight, tense voice, pushing his clenched palms closer to her lips.

  She took a deep breath and blew into his hands. She could see his fingers working smoothly over the dice. They opened for a second and her breath caught in her throat. She looked into his face, her eyes wide.

  For a fraction of a second his eyes were cold, then he smiled. He knew that she had seen. “Thanks baby,” he said, turning back to the table.

  She stood very still, her eyes going around the table. It seemed improbable that nobody else had seen. Then she understood. Ross had been clever. The others had been watching her.

  Ross’s voice was harsh. “C’mon dice, now!” The cubes spun twinkling over the green cloth and bounced off the backboard. They tumbled over and over and came to a stop. A natural. Ross pulled the money toward him and scooped the dice with his other hand. He began to shake the cubes.

  He looked down the table. “I’m hot,” he chortled. “Get your dough down before the fever goes.”

  He began to cover the bets as she stepped back from the table towards Mike, who was leaning against the wall, watching them. He smiled as she came up. “You did good that time.”

  Her face was expressionless. He hadn’t seen Ross switch dice either. “I’ve had enough. I want to go,” she said.

  His voice was surprised. “But Ross isn’t finished yet.”

  “I don’t care,” she insisted. “I want to go.”

  “I’ll tell Ross,” he said.

  Her hand stopped him. “No,” she said. “Leave him be.” She looked at the table. Ross had just thrown another seven. There was an excited, happy look on his face. “He got what he came here for.”