Jezebel (22 page)

Celeste rubbed her hand her
over belly to ease the ache, a sudden knot of unease. This one was
different, she acquiesced. In an unusually short time he’d
crawled under her skin, imprinted himself on her psyche. She couldn’t
quite explain it, but deep down Celeste knew enacting some
meaningless melodrama wouldn’t put humpty back together again
anytime soon.

Close to giving him his
walking papers—better he leave now rather than later—Celeste
bemoaned Aunt Sweet’s untimely appearance.

“
How
are you two lovely doves tonight?” Celeste’s superfluous
response overshadowed Shane’s grunt of acknowledgement. Even
Aunt Sweet noticed his reticence. Her gamine smile slipped and her
eyes lingered on his averted profile.

“
Tonight’s
special is the smothered pork chops with a choice of two sides.”

“
I’ll have the
clam chowder,” Celeste murmured. “I’ll also have a
glass of milk and a handful of your homemade soda crackers.”

Her smile
back in place, Aunt Sweet glanced at Shane. “And what can I get
for your beau?”

“
I’m not her
beau.” He said it with such a lack of emotion or feeling, the
knot in Celeste’s stomach tightened. She almost wanted to
double over. By sheer willpower alone, she maintained her seat.

“
Not
going to have anything,” he continued. “I’m not
staying.” Aunt Sweet stepped aside, giving him room as slid
from the booth. “Right now, I’m just not good company.”

Ears ringing, Celeste made a
big deal of shaking out her napkin, and then smoothing it in her lap.
Although Shane still stood over her, she’d be damned if she
would acknowledge him again. He was walking out on her, so there was
nothing else to be said.

“
I’m sorry,”
he said, reaching in his pants pocket. “At least let me—”

“
Don’t.”
Celeste blinked back tears. She refused to let him see her cry. “Just
go.”

Shane turned, but before he
departed he dropped her theatre ticket on the table.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Harlem’s
famed 125
^th
street blazed with artificial neon lights, which beamed like the noon
day sun on the line of people queued up at the entrance of the newly
opened Suitcase Theater. Hailed as New York City’s first
theatre-in-the-round and Langston Hughes’ brain child, the
theatre had been riding a wave of popularity for months.

Celeste allowed herself to
be swept up in the crowd pressing their way through the theatre’s
glass-paned double doors, bursting through like water in a dam on the
other side.

Sparse in decorations, the
theatre lobby only contained production posters and a concession
stand.

A dozen or so ushers,
looking sporty in black suits, flitted back and forth through the
crowd, trying in vain to control the crowd and get everyone to their
respective seats. Unfortunately for them, the crowd ignored their
help, choosing instead to see and be seen.

Not in the mood, Celeste
made her way through the throng. Why did she even come? She
should’ve cut her loses and headed home. A warm bubble bath and
a pint of hooch sounded better than a night on the town alone.

Alone.
Celeste frowned. Her present condition was becoming a bad habit.
And it weighed on her heavily. So much so, her steps slowed. None
of the other theatre goers noticed. In packs, they carried on
conversations or buzzed past her intent on finding their seats. No
one cared about the woman standing in the middle of it all.

Even
though she felt like the odd man out, Celeste didn’t retreat.
She would not give Shane, or any other human being for that matter,
the satisfaction that they’d broken her. From now on no one
would have that power over her!

Sustained by her new found
confidence, which hadn’t been brought on by a pint of bourbon,
Celeste picked her way through the crowd.

She neared the entrance of
the auditorium and faltered. There was no mistaking the
wide-shouldered brute shadowing the usher.

His eyes drifted over the
crowd, searching. Before she could think of ducking him, his gaze
passed over her then swung back. Celeste glanced left and right,
looking for a hole in the crowd. Of course, it wouldn’t have
made a difference. Determined intent burned in his pale green eyes,
stripping her of all common sense. That had to be the reason why she
simply stood there and watched him push away from the wall and cut a
direct path toward her.

In spite of everything,
goose bumps run down her arms. Celeste gnashed her teeth. He
couldn’t just show up out of nowhere and she’d forgive
him for him for walking out on her. She should be livid at his
audacity. Not turning into a quivering puddle at his feet.

Thankfully,
her conscience and not her libido won this fight. Anger in its truest
form pulsed through her veins. It vibrated and grew with size with
each step that brought him closer to her. By the time, they stood
toe to toe, she was so furious she could choke on it.

Ready
to rip him a new one, Celeste was caught off guard when he slipped
his arm under hers, and pulled her toward the auditorium entrance.

“
What are you doing?”

“
You and I are about
to watch a play.”

“
A-after what you
did?” she sputtered angrily.

“
We’ll
talk later about that.” Shane reached out his hand and wiggled
his fingers. “Now give me your ticket.”

“
I
am not sitting with you.” She tried to shake him, but he held
tight, pulling her firmly against his side. Try as she might,
Celeste couldn’t deny the ball of heat tiptoeing up her spine.
Disgruntled, she slammed her ticket in his palm.

“
That’s
my girl.”

While
Celeste stewed, Shane handed the usher their tickets. The
fresh-faced boy tore them in half and offered to show them to their
seats. Shane declined then proceeded to pull her into the auditorium.
Of course, she tried digging in her heels, but a man his size would
take more strength than she could muster.

“
Haven’t you
done enough damage?” she huffed. “W-why don’t you
just leave me alone?”

“
That’s just
it,” he said, an eyebrow slanting with mocking amusement at her
sputtering fury. “I can’t leave you alone.”

Stated so plainly, his
excuse ran over her like purple prose. Celeste cooled off a bit. She
didn’t completely forgive him. Oh, no! That would take some
pretty good sweet talking or a rhinestone bracelet.

Shane
stopped halfway down the stairs, and Celeste slammed into him.
“Where’s the curtains?” he mumbled. “And why
is the stage smack dab in the middle?”

“
It’s called
theatre-in-the-round. There’s no background and very few
props.”

Shane’s expression
turned serious. “Bare bones?”

Celeste nodded.

“
So, that means it’s
gonna be a strong performance.”

Finding his reasoning odd,
Celeste frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“
The best fighters
don’t need embellishments.”

“So I guess you fight
in a tutu and a top hat.” Celeste grinned. He’d set
himself up for that one.

Shane chuckled at her joke,
a deep resonant sound, which dampened the rest of her animosity.
“Bare bones.” He puffed out his chest like a rooster.
“Nothing but gloves and a pair of silk trunks.”

And she bet he looked mighty
fine in them, she mused, her eyes never leaving him as he resumed
playing usher, guiding them to their seats. Pound for pound, he had
to be the fittest man she’d ever come across.

Curious, she asked, “When’s
your next bout?”

Shane
deflated right before her eyes. “Two months from now at the
Garden.”

Surprised, Celeste’s
eyes widened. A bout at Madison Square Garden was huge. It was like
playing the Palace. “Are you ready?”

“
I’ve been ready
for the past six years.” Obviously, he didn’t want to
talk about it anymore because he turned away from her.

Why he looked practically
green around the gills! Was he scared about the fight?

He had her empathy. She’d
seen one or two bouts in her day and neither of them ended pretty.
One guy’s nose wound up clear on the other side of his face.

Reminded of the blood and
carnage she’d witnessed, Celeste studied Shane’s profile.
In short order, she deduced he must’ve been the winner in the
majority of them. His nose, albeit a little off center, looked darn
near perfect and there was a thin slivery scar, which slashed across
his chin. In all honesty, his battle scars made him only more
handsome.

Celeste frowned. Now she was
waxing all poetic, like some girl in pigtails. And once again she was
allowing her weakness for the opposite sex and low self-worth to
override everything including her own self-respect.

Silently
stewing over her current predicament, she jumped when someone tapped
her on her shoulder. Celeste pivoted around, coming face to face with
Nettie Hollister, a showgirl she’d once worked with at Small’s
Paradise.

“
I thought that was
you!” Gaudily dressed in a red satin number with a center split
a mile long, Nettie clapped her hands together as if she’d just
won the daily number.

“
How
you’ve been?”

Celeste
barely mumbled a reply before the other woman continued, “Can
you believe the turn out? And look at all these other people,”
Her eyes lighted on Shane and she winked, “and no one pitching
a fit.”

Since she was sitting with
“one of them”, Celeste cracked a wan smile. As if
sensing, her dilemma, Nettie’s eyes widened, then took on this
ravenous gleam like a cat spotting a baby bird fallen out its nest.
A knowing smile punctuated her intentions and Celeste braced herself.

“
I am so rude,”
she purred, taking her date’s arm. “Let me introduce you
to my beau, Milton Parker. Milton this is Celeste Newsome, an old
associate of mine from The Inn. She’s one of the finest female
hoofers I’ve ever seen.”

Celeste ignored the added
emphasis on old and friend. Instead, she acknowledged Nettie’s
date with a polite, “hello” and “it’s a
pleasure to meet you.”

“
Please to meet you as
well,” Milton grinned, revealing a gold crown wrapped around
his front tooth.

Celeste knew Nettie wanted
her to reciprocate, but the devil held her tongue and she turned
around. Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore the invisible wall
falling between them as the lights dimmed.

***

Once the play ended, Shane
ushered them out the theater and into a waiting cab so fast, Celeste
barely had her cape buttoned. He didn’t repeat the evening’s
earlier pleasantries either. He chose to brood in silence.

He
couldn’t fault anyone, but himself. He’d acted like a
heel, leaving her alone in a diner without any explanation. In turn,
she’d embarrassed him by not acknowledging him. Shane fisted
his hands. With each city block, his mood darkened. He needed to
hit something!

“
Stop!” Celeste
leaned forward and tapped on the back of the driver’s seat.

“
What are you doing?”

“
We’re getting
out here.”

Shane looked out the window.
They were more than twelve blocks shy of her brownstone. “Why?”

With a sly grin, she slid
over and pressed against him. She was so tiny, but curvy all he
wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and protect her from the
world, including him.

“
Still hungry?”

Shane nodded. Light from
the exterior gas lamp bathed her brown skin in a warm golden glow she
appeared almost angelic. In spite of his self-directed anger, Shane
felt like crushing her against him and kissing her breathless.

She’d slap him into
next week, he deduced. He’d done enough tonight to warrant
nothing less. Before he ended up with a busted lip and completely
embarrassing himself he shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

Unfortunately, she didn’t
live by the same rules because she placed her hand on his chest. Her
touch jolted through him like a hot branding iron, making him feel
alive. Not like some machine going from fight to fight with no other
purpose than to pocket enough money to buy his way out of the past.

“
Shane…”

Shane
blinked. Had she spoken to him? All he could see were those delicious
lips of hers moving.

“
Shane…”

“
Yeah,” he
managed, fighting his physical urges.

“…
open the
door.”

She gifted him with the
sweetest smile and Shane fumbled with the door handle.

“
What do you have in
mind?” he asked, paying the cab fare. As far as he could tell,
everything up and down the block looked residential.