As it was, he was the one to close the door, shutting them both in her office, and he was the one who set the snow globe on her desk.
He grasped her shoulders and spun her around. She was prepared to hate him, but all the fight seeped out of her as she caught the way he looked at her. His eyes still shimmered, but his look went deeper than that and seared her in a most vulnerable spot.
“Something’s happening here, Norma Rose,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t even know if I understand it.” He shook his head slowly. “But I’ll be damned if I can fight it.”
She had no answer, for she knew exactly what he was talking about. If he was feeling anything remotely close to what she was, it was as confusing as hell.
His lips descended toward hers with all the exquisiteness of a snowflake falling from a still and quiet sky. As mesmerizing as the ones in the little glass globe. She had time to stop him, to protest, but not the willpower.
The first swipe of his lips was as dazzling as it had been on the dance floor, and her eyelids fluttered shut as all sorts of wild and outlandish sensations erupted all over again. Instantly transported into the universe she knew nothing about, but wanting to catch a glimpse of it again, Norma Rose wrapped her arms around Ty’s neck and held on as the ride began.
His kiss turned demanding, and Norma Rose accepted the way it called to her very soul. Warm and probing, his tongue parted her lips. She welcomed the entrance into her mouth, thrilled by the feeling and caught up in the vibrations the action sent clear to her toes.
Even as the kiss continued, as her heart raced and her pulse thumped against her skin, as his hands roamed up her back, making her arch deeper against him, thrilled her in ways she couldn’t fathom, one tiny part of her brain remained detached. She shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t want this.
But a part of her, more powerful than that speck of common sense, argued passionately. She wanted more than this. She wanted the excitement. The adventure that being at his side had given her today and tonight. She wanted—
To become a doxy? that overly intuitive and obstinate piece of her brain asked. Give this man the power to rule her? Lose everything because of primitive urges that dropped women who gave into them to the very bottom of society?
Shut up! the other part of her shouted, but it was too late. Her conscience was making more sense. However, Norma Rose wasn’t the one to break away from the kiss. Ty did that.
Air burned as she breathed in, and flamed again as it went out. Her chest heaved and her throat ached, yet she lifted her gaze, refusing to collapse in a heap of frustrated fury.
He was breathing heavily, too, and staring at her as if he was just as mixed up and torn as her. Without a word, he gave a single nod of his head and turned.
Ty left, closing the door with nothing more than a soft click, which resounded so many times in her ears he might as well have slammed it hard enough to rattle the roof.
What she’d recognized in his eyes, a reflection of her own, remained behind, and that’s what made her lose all coordination. Using her desk as a crutch, Norma Rose dragged herself around the corner and fell onto her chair.
Regret. Pure undiluted regret. It was easy to recognize and hard to forget. After eight years she still knew exactly what it looked like. How it burned inside a person with the intensity of a wildfire and left nothing but charred remains.
Forrest Reynolds had looked at her like that. Regrettably.
Norma Rose shook her head, trying to rattle away the image. She hadn’t seen Forrest close enough to see what was in his eyes for years. Only once since his father had found them in Forrest’s car after his graduation party. On the day Uncle Dave was teaching her how to drive, she’d met Forrest on the road and had driven straight into the ditch, crashing into the tree and breaking Dave’s arm.
Forrest had had regret in his eyes that day, too. It hadn’t cut her as deeply that day and it hadn’t hurt nearly as badly as she hurt right now. Ty’s regret had gouged directly into her heart. Other things were different tonight, too. No one had found them. No one had dragged her all the way to the farmhouse and told her father to keep his gold-digging little doxies at home.
Galen Reynolds had done all that. And more. By the time he was done shouting from the rooftops the entire community thought she and Forrest had been having full-blown sex in the backseat of his car. Some still thought that. Claimed that’s why Forrest had left town shortly thereafter, returning only a few times until he’d taken over the Plantation, when his father ran off to California with his latest doxy. A performer who did more than sing songs at their nightclub.
Karen Reynolds had gone with her cheating husband to California. Despite all the animosity she had toward Galen Reynolds, Norma Rose never experienced those feelings toward Karen. Perhaps it was because the woman attempted to dispute Galen’s lies. Karen had been the one to come to the resort, which at that time had been little more than the farmhouse and pavilion, and apologize to Norma Rose and her father, but as her father had pointed out, the damage had already been done.
Norma Rose had taken one thing away from that visit. How Karen Reynolds had kept her head up, regardless of all the rumors about Galen and his doxies. That had stuck in her mind, the way the woman had been able to create a shield around herself that no one could penetrate. Norma Rose had used that, copied the woman’s detached facade over the following months after Forrest left and Galen kept telling the gossipmongers that it was her fault. She’d perfected her own shield and used it continuously.
Until tonight, when it shattered, as if made of crystal instead of stone.
A knock sounded on the door, and Norma Rose closed her eyes, wishing whoever it was would just go away. Maybe she wished they’d just storm in, as usual. Maybe that would re-erect her shield. It was doubtful. She was so empty, so tired, she barely had the wherewithal to open her eyes.
She lifted her lids and let out a heavy sigh before saying, “Come in.”
Josie peeked around the edge of the door. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right,” Norma Rose lied, sitting up to shuffle a few papers about.
“What are you doing?”
Thankfully that little part of her mind which never let its guard down, the part she was growing to hate, had never failed her. “Looking for musicians to hire for Big Al’s anniversary party and Palooka George’s birthday bash,” she said.
Josie entered the room and closed the door. “I truly don’t know how you do this every night, Norma Rose. Seeing to all the guests, making sure they have a good time, and all the while concentrating on future parties.” Standing near the edge of the desk, Josie ran a fingertip over the top of the snow globe. “Aren’t you exhausted? You and Ty were unbelievable.” Sighing, she added, “Oh, the things that must happen after I go to bed at night.”
Ignoring the chill that had the hair on her arms tingling, Norma Rose asked, “What do you mean?”
“You,” Josie said with more than a hint of disbelief. “I’ve only seen you dance maybe twice in my life, yet you almost wore out the floor tonight. How often do you do that?”
“Never,” Norma Rose admitted, once again too drained to lift a pen.
“Never?”
She shook her head.
Josie giggled. “Now that, I believe.”
Knowing she’d never find the answer alone, Norma Rose asked, “What have I done, Josie?”
Frowning, her sister took a seat on the edge of the desk, much like Ty had that morning. Norma Rose chomped her back teeth together. Why did this man consume her like he did? Every thought somehow led straight to him.
“You haven’t done anything, Norma Rose, other than give the guests what they came for, a night of fun.”
“Twyla and you did that,” she said. “I’d never have thought of a dance-off.”
“I wouldn’t have, either,” Josie said. “That was one-hundred-percent Twyla. Probably som
ething she’d seen at one of the speakeasies she’s gone to with Mitsy.”
“What?” The word was out before she could stop it, but Norma Rose lifted a hand, halting her sister from answering. “Don’t,” she said. “I don’t think I can take much more of learning what has happened behind my back.”
“It was only twice that I know of,” Josie answered. “And Bronco hauled her home before things got out of hand.”
“How do you know?” Norma Rose asked, now needing to know. “Father never mentioned it to me, and he certainly would have.”
“Because Bronco never mentioned it to Father,” Josie explained. “It was his job to make sure something like that didn’t happen. He didn’t want Father to know Twyla had ditched him, especially not twice in a row. After all, if he can’t keep track of two girls, how’s he going to keep track of bootleggers?”
Norma Rose closed her eyes as a new wave of exhaustion washed over her. Why was she surprised to hear that? Everything else was crumbling, and there was no reason to believe all she’d thought real and true wouldn’t turn into dust, too.
A thud had her lifting her eyelids. Josie had hopped off the desk and was holding out a hand.
“Come on,” her sister said, taking Norma Rose’s hand when she didn’t offer it. “Time for you to go to bed.”
“I have work to do, and the resort is still full of people.”
“Twyla and I can handle it,” Josie said. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”
Norma Rose made no attempt to move, or protest. She truly didn’t have the energy, and the thought of reentering the ballroom was terrifying. People—those who remembered the scandal with Forrest all those years ago, and there were plenty of them—would be calling her a doxy all over again.
“We can handle it, Norma Rose,” Josie was saying, as she tugged harder. “We should have done something long ago, demanded that Father quit trying to treat us like ten-year-olds.”
Giving in, Norma Rose stood. She hadn’t realized how hot and sticky her gloves were until Josie’s touch made her feel things outside of her twisted emotions. “Why didn’t you?” Norma Rose asked.
“Because,” Josie said secretively, “living a clandestine life can be rather exciting.”
“Clandestine?”
Though everyone always proclaimed Ginger was the prettiest of the Nightingale girls, and Twyla the most flamboyant, Josie, known as the quiet, sensible one, looked downright stunning. Not because of her stylish white outfit or perfectly applied makeup, but because of the mysterious gleam in her eyes and the tranquil yet knowing smile on her lips.
“Life is full of secrets, Norma Rose,” Josie whispered. “Wonderful secrets that are all the more special when they are kept hidden.”
Norma Rose’s mouth went completely dry. There was so much behind this sister, more even than Ginger and Twyla had kept hidden, yet intuition told her no one would learn Josie’s secrets, not if she didn’t want them to.
“This way,” Josie said, tugging Norma Rose toward the door. “We’ll go up the back way. You have nothing to worry about; Twyla and I won’t let anyone burn the place down while you’re sleeping. It’ll all still be here come morning.”
* * *
Morning came early to the birds, frogs and other critters out to catch anything moving on the dew-covered leaves. For Ty, who’d tossed and turned all night, sunrise had taken forever. He’d left his cabin some time ago, but had found no answers walking the grounds of the resort, no resolve for the doubts and reservations piling up like trash in the darkest, deepest slums of the city he’d once called home.
He’d never lived in those slums, but he’d walked the streets there, knew—at least in part—how they’d come to be, and that was at the very root of the problems he’d been slowly unearthing all night.
Norma Rose was deep down inside him, too, and he was having a hard time figuring out why or how she’d gotten there. Slums could appear anywhere, and for the first time ever, he was considering his part in creating one. What could happen to this entire community if he took Nightingale’s down with Bodine.
The resort was quiet, ghostly, and there was not a single piece of evidence of the gaiety that had kept the place hopping until just a few hours ago. Ty quietly made his way through the entrance hall and past Norma Rose’s office to knock on Roger Nightingale’s door.
Entering, Ty closed the door behind him just as the phone on the corner of Roger’s desk rang.
“Hello,” Roger answered, motioning for Ty to take a seat. “Brock, is that you?” he asked into the receiver. “Has something happened?”
Ty didn’t take a seat, in case the man gestured him out within the next few moments, but did make note of the relief that appeared on Roger’s face, meaning nothing must have happened to his youngest daughter.
“Not yet,” Roger said. “We’ve got a lot going on here right now. Not to mention Palooka George’s birthday party next weekend.”
Roger lifted a brow as he glanced up. Ty didn’t bother correcting him that Al’s party was next weekend and Palooka George’s the weekend after.
Roger guffawed at something Brock must have said. “She’d ditch them. I know that girl.” After a pause he stated, “They’d all end up in California. The only one I could send would be Norma Rose and I need her here. With you gone, she’s having to dig up a decent musician for the parties.”
Roger scribbled something on a piece of paper before speaking again. “No one I’d trust with one of my girls.” Roger’s tone turned more understanding. “I know she’s put you in the squeeze, Brock, but I’m calling you out on this one, boy. I need you to take care of Ginger. I don’t have the time to deal with her right now.”
Ty gave himself a moment before he released the pressure on his back teeth. Not dealing with his daughters could put the man in more trouble than any of the gangsters he associated with.
“Look,” Roger said, once again gesturing for Ty to take a seat, “I have to go, but I’ll call you in a day or so.”
Ty sat as the man hung up and waited as Nightingale took a deep breath. The two of them had come to an agreement last night, but that had been before several other incidents had taken place.
“Ginger must be giving Brock a hard time,” Roger said with a hint of a smile. “He wants me to send someone to get her.”
“Are you going to?” Ty asked, ready to offer to take Norma Rose if that’s who Nightingale chose to send.
“No,” Roger said. “She made her choice, now she needs to see if it’s what she really wants.”
“Ginger?” Ty asked and then shook his head when Roger nodded. “Isn’t she a little young for that type of lesson?”
“No,” Roger said. “None of my girls are that young anymore. They’re women, and a man who tries to control a woman usually finds himself in a tight spot.” Leaning back in his seat, he said, “That’s why I’ve let Norma Rose deal with most of their shenanigans. She’s a lot like their mother was, doesn’t let things fluster her.” A thoughtful, distant look covered Roger’s face for a moment. “She learned the hard way years ago.”
The knot inside Ty’s chest pulled a little tighter. He wanted to know just what lesson Norma Rose had learned the hard way.
Roger nodded toward the paper he’d written on earlier. “Brock said she should try Slim Johnson for the parties. Norma Rose isn’t going to like that.”
“Why? Isn’t he any good?”
“He’s a good musician and singer,” Roger said, “but he has a contract with the Plantation. She’d have to get Forrest Reynolds’s permission to hire him.”
“And there’s bad blood between the Plantation and the resort,” Ty said, thinking aloud.
“Oh, there’s bad blood all right,” Roger answered. “But it’s between Norma Rose and Forrest. Galen, Forrest’s father, saw to that years ago, which is why I had him run out of town. Galen claims otherwise, that he left for health reasons. Let him think that, and let those that think he ran off with one of hi
s mistresses believe what they would. Galen’s big mouth hurt Norma Rose, and though I’ve never told her, he’s paying for that now. I took my time in getting revenge.” Roger rubbed a chin that was still red from shaving. “He’s in jail in California, on his way to prison. I didn’t want to see his wife, Karen, hurt. She’d been good friends with my wife years ago. Karen had a blind eye where Galen was concerned, in most things. Or maybe she just didn’t want to believe it, until she had to. Either way, she’s divorcing him now.”
Ty was even more interested to know what had happened, but his mind didn’t have time to think too deeply. Roger’s chair creaked as he leaned forward.
Elbows on his desk and fingertips tapping together, Roger leveled a solid stare on Ty that could have burned holes. “I never forget someone who’s done me, or mine, wrong. And I always win in the end.”
If he’d needed any urging, that would have been it, but Ty had made his mind up before he’d entered the man’s office. He wasn’t turning soft, but a soft spot had formed inside him. Norma Rose had put it there. He couldn’t stop what he’d come here to do—Bodine had to go down—but he was willing to find a way for that to happen, if there was one, that maybe wouldn’t ruin her life.
Nightingale had to be in on it, which also meant he had to tell Roger he’d deceived him. Ty stood and crossed the room to glance out the window that, like Norma Rose’s, overlooked the front parking lot. “You play with some heavy hitters,” he said, turning to lean his backside against the windowsill.
“I do,” Roger agreed. “Does that scare you?”
“No,” he answered. “No man scares me.” Only one particular woman had ever uprooted that. Keeping that thought silent, he said, “But I am aware of what they are capable of doing. I’ve seen it firsthand. The extortion. The carnage. The murders.”
Roger shook his head. “There are mobsters and there are thugs. The mobs, the ones I do business with, though some of their players are underhanded, don’t go around killing innocent people. They’re simply out to make money, which isn’t a bad thing.”
The Bootlegger's Daughter (Daughters Of The Roaring Twenties Book 1) Page 17
