Rouge (2 page)

“Gentleman come and go in this line of work,”
Rosa
said. “Hale’s smart to keep her feelings in check.”

“I think Freddie’s in love with you,” Teeny said, flipping onto her stomach to look at me. “He could hardly speak without turning all pink.”

She giggled and I smiled. “Maybe,” I said.

“I’d be in love with him,” she continued. “Falling in love is the greatest thing in the world.”

“Spoken like someone who knows nothing of the world,”
Rosa
grumbled.

I caught her shoulders and kissed her crabby old cheek. “Thanks for making me seem like a lady. That was perfect.”

“You’ve no blood to be a lady, no matter what Gavin says,”
Rosa
said. “And you’re too young to be going out after hours.”

“She’ll be eighteen in a month!” Teeny cried, but I cringed.

A few more years, and I’d be in the same boat as Minette and most of the other dancers here—too old to hope for anything but propositions and expensive gifts from my male visitors. I’d be an old maid, and this place would be my home for good. My throat tightened. Freddie had to work.

“I’m tired,” I said, climbing into the bed beside Teeny.

Rosa
pointed at her. “And
you’ll
get into trouble with all that kissing.” She carried my costume to the door. “Now go to sleep.”

“I just wanted one kiss,” Teeny pouted.

I turned off the light, and she snuggled down next to me like she’d done since that first night, years ago, when I found her, a dirty, half-starved orphan. I hadn’t been much better, a lonely orphan with a room and a promise of safety but no one to love.  I wrapped my arm across her shoulders.

“Tell me about how I came here again,” she said.

It was our bedtime ritual, and even though I’d made the whole thing up and she was old enough to remember the streets, it didn’t matter. She loved her fictitious backstory. I smiled and petted her head.

“Your mother was a gorgeous dancer. And when she met your dad, she couldn’t help but love him.” I smoothed a curl. “He played beautiful music on the guitar, and she danced for him.”

“But he couldn’t marry her,” Teeny interrupted. “Because he had no money and she was promised to a rich man.”

“So he went away to find his fortune, but before he could return, your mother was married off to another. Still, he came back, and she went to him—”

“You’ve never explained why her going to him would mean I had to come here.”

“I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

My own eyelids were growing droopy, but I resisted reminding her it was all pretend.

“Tell me about our future again,” she urged. She was unusually energetic tonight, and I needed her to go to sleep.

I took a deep breath and shifted gears. This story was
not
pretend, it was a promise I’d made to both of us. “One day I’ll leave the show. Maybe Freddie will be the one to convince me.”

“Freddie’s from
Paris
. Does he have a house there?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” I kissed the top of her head. “And if he does, we’ll take a boat right out of
New Orleans
and live on the Avenue Montaigne.”

“The richest street in
Paris
!” she added. “And we’ll ride in a carriage, and you’ll be a lady with diamonds and furs. And a little dog.”

“And we’ll never think about this place.” I clutched my arm around her as my throat grew tight. “Ever again.”

“Or what a terrible singer I am?” she yawned in the darkness.

“Exactly.” My embrace relaxed, and I traced my fingers along her upper arm. “Now go to sleep
,
”
I whispered.

Outside our door were the sounds of shuffling feet and low, male voices mixed with female. Some were familiar, but others were not. They were the men who paid extra to visit the back rooms where the dancers did more than dance.

We were all expected to keep the money coming in, and in return we got tiny rooms, stale food, and a pittance for personal items. But it was never enough. I was lucky to be the best singer and the star of the show. My voice might’ve kept me out of the back, but I had something extra. Gavin’s promise.

The night my mother died, she made him promise he’d keep me safe, and a deathbed promise carried a lot of weight in our
New Orleans
subculture where superstition reigned.

Teeny’s breathing smoothed, and I slid out from beside her. I found my dressing gown and fastened it at my chest again, pushing my feet into slippers and creeping to my door. I listened until it was quiet in the hall, safe to scurry down the dark passage.

A small group of us were celebrating Evie’s birthday tonight on the roof of our building. She was nineteen, but we hoped Gavin had lost count. At seventeen she could’ve been sent to the back, but even though she was the weakest member of the chorus, it had never happened.

I went up the narrow stairs and pushed open the heavy metal door leading to the roof. Roland, who composed all our songs, was the first to greet me. We’d known each other since we were children, playing together and teasing one another. He’d grown up here, too, and he was my oldest friend.

“My gorgeous leading lady.” Roland took my hand and pulled me into the heavy night air that was still warm despite its being late fall. I tilted my head forward to meet his kiss. “No one could sing my songs the way you do.”

“I’ve gotten to where I can read your mind.”

I glanced up at his dark brown eyes. Roland was twenty-one, and he had classic French features, dark hair and eyes set off by fair skin and a broad, white smile. The scent of tobacco hung in his waistcoat from the fashionable, small cigarettes he smoked too often.

He continued holding my hand as we approached Evie, perched among our friends. Mary was stocky and loud, but a good dancer; Frank and Carla were the only married couple in our troupe. Carla was somewhat plain with almost-black hair, small eyes, and a long nose. But she was tall and lean like her husband, who was hired to compliment me onstage. I drew the male patrons, and Frank drew the female. Light on his feet, with slim hips and luscious, black waves, Frank was a male-dancer fantasy. Occasionally, I could even hear the female swoons from the audience when he appeared.

“Hale!” Evie jumped down and rushed to embrace me. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I hugged her tightly, remembering the day she arrived. She’d been the first girl my age in the show, and at fifteen-almost-sixteen, she was so proud of herself—a runaway from a
Memphis
farm turned
New Orleans
showgirl.

A glass of champagne was placed in my hand, and we all raised a toast to Evie. I sipped and Roland took my elbow, leading me from the group.

“It appears you’ve worked your magic on the dashing Mr. Lovel,” he said. “I believe that was the Fox Trot he was doing when he left your room. Maybe he should be Frank’s understudy.”

My cheeks burned. “I didn’t see him leave,” I lied.

Roland just laughed. “Come now,” he turned to face me. “I know you’re happy about this one. I certainly would be.”

“Freddie’s nice. But I’m not sure of him yet. These fellows lose interest as quickly as they find it.”

“If you’re comparing him to Octavia, don’t. That smelly hound was only seeking a willing partner from the start.”

“Aren’t they all?” I breathed, turning away.

Roland caught my chin and made me look at him. “No. And this one’s different.”

“Because Gavin found him?”

He nodded. “That helps. He’s very serious. And seriously smitten.”

I turned away from his amusement. “If only he could get us out of here—”

My reply was interrupted by a loud laugh from Evie. I glanced at her still sitting among the people I’d known since childhood—our strange family—and my mind traveled back to the first night she and I saw what really went on after hours in our theater home.

I pushed that ugly memory down and looked at Roland. He was watching Evie’s birthday group with a smile.

“How long can we keep this up?” I asked him quietly.

“Keep what up?”

“The façade that nothing bad happens here, that everything’s so happy.”

He shrugged. “It is pretty happy at present. Ticket sales are soaring. Everybody’s got money, and the current supply is meeting back-room demand.”

“At present,” I repeated, turning back to the wall. “And how long will that last?”

“What does it matter? You never have to worry about facing those dark little rooms.”

I shook my head. “My promise doesn’t cover everyone.”

We were leaning against the ledge, and I surveyed the lights of the city. So many times I’d imagined taking Teeny and running away, but Rosa’s old stories kept me locked here, too afraid of ending up on the streets begging. Or worse.

A low chord sounded in the distant night, three notes played together, one a half-step off. A line creased my forehead as I considered it.

“Barge?” I asked.

Roland followed my gaze across the darkening city rooftops. Then he frowned. “Train. Headed north to
Chicago
, I bet.”

In his voice was a sound I seldom heard, one he never allowed anyone else to hear. It was something like longing or regret, and I glanced over at him. He was four years my senior, but in that moment he could’ve been as young as Teeny, wishing for something just out of reach. It was gone in an instant. He breathed a laugh, breaking the spell, and wrapped his arm across my shoulders.

“Relax. Gavin’s practical, but he never forgets a promise.”

I shook my head and looked down. He didn’t know my fears, that Gavin’s promise to my dead mother didn’t cover Teeny, and that the older she got, the closer she grew to joining the other girls in those back rooms.

“And it helps immensely that you sing like an angel.”

He groaned and squeezed me. “Come on, Hale. No more frowning. I can’t believe how amazing the show went tonight. There was just that one rough spot—”

“Rough spot?” I pushed back. “I sang it perfectly. Even though you insist on writing outside my range.”

He chuckled. “We’ll fix it tomorrow.”

His hand slid to my waist, and he pulled me back to the group where Evie was retelling how she’d stepped on Mary’s hem during the opening number and ripped the back off her skirt, exposing her derriere.

“If it’d been that sorta show, I wouldn’t’ve minded,” Mary’s harsh voice yelled back from where she was leaning beside Frank and Carla. “And I think the audience got a good laugh.”

“Fiona did not laugh,” Roland said. “Our Mistress of the Dance was livid. You should’ve seen her backstage.”

“I’m such a menace.” Evie draped a hand across her plain face.

Not being pretty was a lucky break for her. As awful as she was in the productions, beauty would’ve sent her straight to the back. My worries about Teeny flashed across my mind again. Soon I’d never be able to hide her, and as yet she demonstrated zero talent onstage. She was a walking target.

I quickly reached for another glass of champagne to calm the anxiety pulsing in my chest. One long sip almost drained my little cup, and as I lowered it, I saw the metal door slowly open and Gavin step into the night. Our owner was tall with light brown hair and green eyes. A long coat hung from his broad shoulders, and his expression was grim.

“Dolly said Evie was up here,” he said.

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered at my feet. His eyes flickered to mine, and he frowned. I was silent, afraid of what he might say, but Roland crossed the space between us and took hold of my wrist.

“Here to celebrate?” he asked, standing so his body blocked mine. “Hale did a wonderful job tonight, don’t you agree?”

Gavin grunted back. “How’s it going with Lovel?”

My throat was tight, but I managed to answer. “Very well. Thank you.”

He nodded then walked over to Evie, standing in front of where she sat.

“Gavin?” Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. “Come to wish me happy birthday?” She smiled, but I heard the tremor in her voice.

“Walk with me,” he said. “There’s been a gentleman… asking about you.”

Roland pulled me through the exit and down the stairs. I followed him almost tripping to keep up with his fast pace.

“Go to bed,” he said when we reached my door. “There’s nothing you can do now.”

I stared at him, eyes wide. “Will she… tonight?”

He paused and then stepped back toward me. He slid the backs of his fingers across my cheek and nodded slightly.

“I’ll help her if I can,” he whispered.

But I knew there was nothing he could do. I hiccupped a breath, and he pulled me into his arms. My fingers clutched his sleeve as tears filled my eyes, but the sound of footsteps in the passage made me release him and turn into my room. He continued down the hallway and away from my door.