Jezebel (6 page)

“
You two look like
a wedding cake topper,” he murmured.

Celeste
glanced over at Trudy and chuckled. Decked
out
in a pair of black trousers, a pair of jaunty suspenders
and
a
white, freshly ironed dress shirt rolled up at the elbows,
all
her cousin needed was a top hat instead of the
colorful
headscarf wrapped around h
er
head.

“
I
apologize for being unprofessional.” Embarrassed, the boy
dropped his head
.
His
lips moved as if he were chastising himself.

With
her innate ability to put people at ease, she chucked him under the
chin. “You have my attention, so what’s your business,
handsome?”

The
boy tipped his head at an angle and smiled. “I have a telegram
for you.”

“
I
heard,” Celeste held out her hand. When he didn’t
immediately respond, she wiggled her fingers. “Come on, I won’t
bite,” she coaxed.

“
She won’t,”
Trudy corroborated as she leaned against the door jamb, “you’re
too young for her taste.”

Flustered,
the boy shoved his hand inside his messenger bag, pulled out
a
yellow telegram,
and
then
hand
ed
it to her.

“
Could
you tip him for me, Tru? My purse is upstairs.” Celeste turned
the missive over in her hands.
Her name was neatly typed on the outside.

“
Don’t people
know there’s a Depression going on?”
Her
cousin
grumbled
.
Still, she greased the boy’s palm with a couple of nickels
.

“
Are you expecting
some news?”
Trudy
mumbled, her lips now firmly clamped around several dressing pins.
Before the interruption, she’d been on her knees hemming
Celeste’s wedding dress.

Clueless,
Celeste
frowned.
“It’s probably just someone reserving for
next
Saturday.”

“
Well, you can read
it while I finish
up
.
Now come on.” Trudy shooed her back
over
to
the
foot
stool
.

Back
on her elevated pedestal,
Celeste
surveyed the
parlor’s
discordant condition
.
It
looked
like Macy’s department store had exploded, littering
the
sitting area
with tissue paper, discarded boxes, her wedding pattern, pots and
pans, curtains, cutlery, and other essentials for the new flat she
and Ralph would share after the nuptials.

Celeste
smiled.
Mrs.
Ralph
Long
,
she liked the ring of it!
Unmindful
of how her life was about to change, she tore into the envelope.

Celeste,

I know what you did STOP The
wedding is off STOP Do not bother looking for me or trying to explain
STOP Upon the personal invitation of Beatrice Gerard

I’m leaving town and
joining up with her troupe for
an
extended
tour
of Europe STOP
The
wedding is off STOP
.

Ralph
Long

Celeste reread the
telegram several times before crumpling the yellow parchment between
numb fingers.

A sudden wave of nausea
swept over her and she swayed slightly. She sucked in a calming
breath as her eyes searched for a visual spot.

She focused on Trudy,
hunched over, working at her feet, her hands busily threading the
skirt’s hem.

“
St-st-stop!”
Celeste stammered, then louder, “STOP!”

Trudy peered up at her.
“What’s gotten into you?”

“
I said stop.”
When her cousin didn’t move fast enough, Celeste wrenched the
hem from Trudy’s startled hands. “No good,” she
rattled, while clawing at the dress’s high neckline. “Never
any good

”

Trudy staggered back.
“Celeste what’s wrong?”

Celeste didn’t stop
until she stood in the middle of the parlor in nothing but her slip
and stockings, the telegram still clutched in one hand.

Hesitant and for good
reason, Trudy stepped forward and pulled the telegram from her
clenched fist. Her cousin scanned the missive.

“
Oh my,” she
whispered and Celeste almost lost it. “Sugar foot, are you
okay?” she asked as she shoved the telegram in her back pants
pocket.

Met with silence, her
cousin tried wrapping a comforting arm around Celeste’s
shoulders.

Celeste retreated to the
bay window overlooking Amsterdam Avenue.

“
What’s the
big deal?” A laugh sliced down Celeste’s throat. “Ralph
realized he wasn’t man enough for me,” she replied a
little too brightly. “Better now than later, right?"

“
Maybe you two can
work things out,” Trudy offered. “You have enough money
saved up you can meet him in Europe.”

And take the chance he
might want her back? She didn’t have the balls to tell Trudy
she’d cracked like an egg under pressure. That she’d
intentionally drove her fiancé away because she couldn’t
understand how someone could love her when her own daddy never did.

Celeste
turned her back on her cousin and
started
re-pack
ing
the vestiges of a life she didn’t deserve.

CHAPTER FOUR

“
Here we are.”
Trudy plucked the reserved sign from a table sitting stage left. As
all of them took their seats, Trudy frowned. “The view’s
the pits.”
Set
at an odd
angle
,
parallel to
the
stage, viewing w
ould
be
less than
optimal. “I can see if Pope can find us another table.

“
Good luck,”
Shane countered. “
The
place is
packed
.”
He looked at her and goose bumps ran down Celeste’s arms. “I’m
fine with the table if you are.”

Even
though she secretly liked that he’d asked her opinion,
Celeste
shrugged
,
feigning an
air of nonchalance. In an hour she
would
be
so sauced,
their table could be in the gutter and she wouldn’t care a
whit.

As long as the liquor kept
flowing, she
hoped
it would
get
her mind off the bruiser sitting next to her and how every time their
eyes met she became jumpy and hyper aware of his every movement.

“
About time you showed
up
,
”
a dark-skinned waiter carrying a table service
,
drawled
.
Smiling
brightly, he set a
bowl
of ice
,
three high ball glasses and a complimentary bottle of water on the
table
. “Mr.
Josephson sent word to the Buffalo Soldiers.”

“
Hiram, you old
buzzard
.
”
Trudy
sneered.
There had never been any love between the two
.
“You remember my cousin Celeste?”

“
How could I forget
such a vision of loveliness,” Hiram purred,
flashing
Celeste a toothy, yet crooked grin. His gaze darted to Shane, but
his smile never faltered.

“
What libations can I
get you folks tonight?” He handed each of them the club’s
leather-bound drink menu. A bourbon-on-the-rocks kind of girl,
Celeste set the drink list aside and placed her order. Trudy
followed with a Manhattan, shaken not stirred.

When the waiter turned to
Shane for his order, Celeste found herself waiting as well.

Over the years, she’d
developed a popular parlor trick where she could accurately guess a
person’s personality by the libation they favored. Spot on in
its accuracy, she’d also chosen and rejected quite a few lovers
using her expert discernment of hooch.

Celeste chalked it up to
simple curiosity. She didn’t want Shane Brennan as a lover.
Absolutely and positively not! The
i
r
backgrounds couldn’t be more different. Plus, he didn’t
have any real interest in her. Her daddy probably made sure of
it
.

Bothered
by her acute interest in the man’s taste in liquor, Celeste
turned
her attention to t
he
dance floor.
Unfortunately,
t
he
straining bodies, in the throes of a beguine, didn’t help
matters and
she remained abhorrently attuned to the man to her left.

“
I’ll have two
cents plain with a lime.”

He was ordering soda
water?
Everyone
including Celeste looked at him. Well, that nailed his coffin. She’d
never been with a dry man or a holy roller. Her father ruined any
hope of that ever happening. Relieved Shane no longer fell into her
realm of interest
,
Celeste filled
her
glass with ice. She liked garnish
ing
her brandy with a splash of ice-cold water.

“
You know Prohibition
is over.” Celeste pointed out.

“
Exactly
six
years ago.”

“
Then why the drought,
D
addy-
O
?”
Although not a heavy drinker, Trudy s
ounded
baffled
.

With a half-smile, Shane
rolled his beefy shoulders. “Training for the Garden.”

“
The Garden?”
Hiram cocked his head. “You a boxer?”

Shane nodded, but didn’t
provide any additional information.

“
I know who you are!”
Hiram’s eyes widened with sudden clarity. “You’re
‘Sugar’ Shane Brennan. The million dollar man.”

Shane’s smile faded.
“I’m not worth a million dollars,” he ground out.
For some reason Hiram’s letting the cat out of the bag set
him
on edge.
Interest
piqued, Celeste leaned forward.

“
But all the write ups
said you earned that and then some from all your boxing exhibitions.
See if I can remember the number?” Hiram glanced up at the
ceiling as if the answer was written there. “I think the
article said
you’ve
fought in
one
hundred and fifty
give or take a few
.”

“
Two hundred and
four.”

“
Eww wee,” Hiram
gushed. “You have to be sitting on a cool million
,
Mr. Rockefeller
.”

Shane’s expression
turned motley. Thankfully, Trudy saved the day. “One million
or five dollars, you’re not talking yourself into a bigger tip
by yapping all night.”

Put in his place, Hiram’s
grin faded.
“Bourbon
for the lovely lady. Soda water garnished with a twist of lime for
the gent. And a Manhattan for the
chick
with a dick
,
stirred and not shaken
.
”

“
I said shaken not
stirred you old son of a

”
Trudy’s curse trailed off into an improper snort
and thin air as Hiram hurried off
.
A creature of habit, she never wasted an insult. “I guess I
won’t be having a refreshment after all. I’ve never
liked the taste of turpentine.”