September Wind (22 page)

Taking a right turn at the landing, she hesitated when she saw Beatrice in the game room, talking to a man. She took a deep breath and continued down, startled by how much he reminded her of Moe from
The Three Stooges
. His hair was slightly longer at the sides than Moe’s had been, also curly, and he looked to be a few inches taller. Even though his thick eyebrows and dark eyes gave a devilish crown to his narrow jaw line, some might think him handsome, whereas everything about Moe was comical. That was where their likeness ended.

As if he had been aware of her all along, he turned to her as she took the last step.

              Beatrice motioned her over. “Come. I have someone who wants to meet you.”

             
As she approached, Beatrice pulled her over. “This is Donald Schillings,” she said in a tone suggesting this was the man to meet.

             
Apart from Michael’s gentle gesture, no one had ever offered a hand to her before. And when Donald came at her, she flinched because for so many years hands had been a symbol of Claude coming at her, the yanking and pulling and whacks of punishment. She shivered at the memory. There didn’t seem to be any other option, but to place a hand into this stranger’s chubby fist.

             
She expected it would be cold like the handle of a water-pump iced over. Although it was warm and spongy, giving her the oddest sensation like he’d just come in from the barn with a fresh pail of milk.

             
“
So, you’re the girl that showed up in such a pickle. From what Beatrice said, you’re lucky to have found us.”

She wondered what Beatrice told him, and couldn’t understand why anyone would think a dwelling such as this would be a lucky place to end up, pickle or not.

              “
Here’s some bubbly, you two,” an enthusiastic voice broke in. A young woman set a tray of drinks on the table, handing Emily and Beatrice each a tall glass before strolling off again.

             
Donald reached into a shirt pocket for a cigarette case, flipping the lid open. He smiled just enough to flash short crowded teeth from behind wide thin lips. “How disappointing,” he said, tapping a cigarette out of the box, “to come to a strange town expecting to find someone, and then to realize you’re all alone.” His dark eyes settled on hers as he dropped the case into his vest pocket. He pulled a silver lighter from his pants pocket, lit up and took a lengthy drag. Smoke rolled from his mouth, drifting up around his face.

“Well, ladies,” he said, “I have some business to attend to.” He nodded to Beatrice, gave Emily a sweeping glance, and headed off.

              She watched him walk away, sickened to think he would probably be coming for her later. She took a long drink, welcoming the warmth that spread from her throat to her belly and out through her limbs.

             
“
Mm, this sure is good wine,” she said in a hurry to end her discomfort. She liked the way the bubbles tickled her tongue, and wondered why she hadn’t noticed this when she had wine with Michael.

             
“
Wine?” Beatrice glowered. “It’s champagne, my dear, and it’s not something a person usually guzzles like a glass of water. You’ve never had champagne before?”

             
“
This
isn’t
wine?”

             
“No, it’s not!”

             
She looked at the bubbles and thought of spring raindrops somewhere far away.

             
“
Well, it’s time for you to put some experience under that thin little belt of yours, young lady.”

             
Emily looked up, her mood strengthened by the liquor and a growing disrespect for Beatrice. “Why didn’t you just come out and tell me what kind of place this was?”

             
“
You mean our little family here? Well, in fact I did. And don’t tell me Maxine didn’t mention it too?”

             
“
Nope, not a word.” She didn’t think Beatrice would take credit for something as obvious as the way she had set her up. She listened half-heartedly as the woman tried to convince her that the Palace was the best place for her.

             
“
You’ll ease right into things,” she said. “They all do.” Her words drifted into promises of glamour, high society, trips, and lots of money, while Emily considered an escape.

             
“
Emily! Did you hear me? I said I was going to explain it all, but I’m still not certain what your assignment will be. Since talking to you yesterday, there’s a man that’s very interested in you, for uhm...a personal position.” She took a sip of champagne and thought for moment. “Well, why not. I guess there’s no reason to keep you in suspense. It’s Donald. He’s been adamant about what sort of girl he wants for quite a while now. He’s at his rope’s end trying to find the right one. Somehow, he thinks you may fit the bill.”

             
“
What do you mean by
assignment
?”

“Just what I said. Although, what he has in mind, exactly, I’m not sure. Of course, I could use you here. There’s enormous amounts of money to be made for both of us.” Her eyes darted to the door where Donald had made his exit. “I wasn’t exactly happy when he informed me. Yet...we can’t just say no to someone like him. He’s got too much clout around here, not to mention the important people he deals with every day. Besides, he brings in triple the customers anyone else does.”

              “
I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

             
“
Of course it doesn’t. See, that’s why I didn’t bother to explain. You have to grow into something like this. The important thing is that you have the opportunity of a lifetime right here.”

             
Emily looked up the staircase. She knew she didn’t want to stay, yet being out in the world alone at night seemed even more frightening.

             
Beatrice tapped her on the shoulder. “Come now, after I bought you all those nice clothes, you can at least check things out for yourself. I bet you’ll end up having a marvelous time, just like all of our girls do. You’ll have to trust me on that. I mean, what do you know about life, anyway?”

             
A thought brought on a smile. “You should’ve seen yourself yesterday when I opened the door. If a person didn’t know better, they’d of thought some lowlife had hauled you up the front porch and left you. Now look at yourself. You look like a new person. Where’s your guts, girl? What do you have to lose?”

             
“
Well, I…”

             
"Where else are you going to go? Listen, Emily, two young women were found dead last month. Raped and stabbed. It’s a dangerous world out there for anyone, but especially someone as young and naive as you.”

             
Emily took a long drink.

             
“
If it makes you feel better, Friday’s a good night to start. A lot of our clients are out with their wives or girlfriends. It’s more of... well, a laid-back crowd. At least you’re safe here…” Beatrice nodded toward the back door. “Instead of out there.”

             
Emily knew the woman was probably right, and quickly finished her champagne.

             
Beatrice took the glass, set it on a stand, and handed her another. “Now, put a smile on your face and let’s go inside.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Beatrice opened the oak door to a stunning round entryway. The floor was covered with plush burgundy carpeting. A colorful painting extended across the dome ceiling and half way down the circular wall.

              A man walking by the main entrance noticed Beatrice and popped his head through the archway.

             
“
Beatrice, just the person I’m looking for.”

             
“
What is it, Randy?”

             
“
Well,” he said, scooting in to join her, “I’ve heard rumors about a new home for the Palace.”

             
“
Where’d you hear that?”

             
“
Then it’s not true?”

             
“
Now, I didn’t say that.”

             
The two continued their discussion as Emily moved through the archway into the lounge. It was larger than she expected, with shimmers of mottled light coming from candles set in crystal holders and lamps with glass covers. The lighting was a romantic backdrop to black leather sofas and loveseats scattered about in private sitting areas.               Throughout the room were statues and tall slender black vases holding exotic flowers.

             
To her right was a step-up that led to an area where a number of people were eating at round tables draped in white linen and glimmering with soft candlelight.

             
Straight ahead, at the far end of the room was a mirrored wall that looped around, making a cozy spot for a bar. Hanging lights glowed a soft red a few feet above the black counter. It was trimmed with leather padding that matched high-backed bar stools. Down a few feet from where she stood, across from the restaurant, was a waterfall that flowed into a pond.

When a beautiful melody began, she stepped around the waterfall to observe a man in a black tailored suite playing
Rhapsody in Blue
on a grand piano. She knew that music well, and had listened to her grandmother play it on the Victrola many times before the player broke. She stood transfixed to the spot until the song ended.

Beatrice came up beside her and they stood
looking about the room. “Well, what do you think?” she said. “Quite spectacular, isn’t it.”

             
Emily’s disappointment in her hadn’t changed, but the room was more than spectacular, and she thought she had better say something. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

             
Heels approached, and they turned as a young woman ambled across the room. Her blonde curls bounced around her shoulders, and her short silver dress sparkled under the light. “Howdy, Bea. You called for me?”

             
“
I did.” Beatrice pulled the girl over. “Felece, this is Emily, our newest addition. I’d like you to introduce her to a few people.”

“Certainly. I’d be happy to.” She turned to Emily. “Nice dress. Wow!” she said, rolling a thumb across the heirloom necklace. “Where’d you guys pick this up?”

Beatrice smiled. “Well, I bought her sev–” She stopped suddenly and took a closer look.

“It’s mine,” Emily said, stroking it. “It was one of my great grandmother’s from way back.”

Beatrice gave her an odd look, but didn’t say any more. Emily got pleasure out of that, after the way the woman had made her feel like she’d just crawled out of the gutter.

             
A waitress in a short black dress and white apron stopped by with fresh drinks and, when the exchange was made, Felece took Emily’s hand. “Well, let’s go meet some people,” she said, then marched her across the room.

             
“
Hey, guys,” she said as they approached a couple.               “Meredith, James. I have a surprise for you. Her name’s Emily.”

             
Meredith was older than most of the other women, probably in her mid-thirties. She was thin, tanned, and pretty in a tomboy sort of way, with dark brown hair turned under at the shoulders. James looked to be in his late fifties. His hair was dark except for graying around his temples. His beard and mustache were almost black, except for the speckles of white that popped up like springs from a worn-out pickup seat.

             
“
Mmm... a delicious surprise, indeed.” He removed the cigar from his mouth, and in a suave fashion took Emily’s hand and planted a kiss.

             
She flinched when the bristly hair around his mouth pricked her skin.

             
“
Take is easy, old boy,” Felece said. “She’s new, remember?”

             
James released her hand and bowed with a delightful grin. ”I apologize, young lady. I hope I didn’t scare you off.”

             
“
Not yet,” Emily said. She laughed with the others, thankful for the champagne that bubbled in her veins like a cushion to soften her uneasiness.

             
“
He’s harmless,” Felece joked, giving James’ beard a playful tug. She tucked an arm around one of Emily’s and they crossed the room, stopping to visit with a number of other people.

             
They ended up just beyond the pond.

             
“
Marshall and Pollyanna, I brought a new gal over. Her name’s Emily.”

             
The couple had been sitting on a couch and now they stood to greet Emily. Pollyanna was elegant in every sense of the word. She was tall with dark close-cropped hair, delicate features, and a beautiful sincere smile. Her strapless floor-length dress was pink crepe, simple, yet as elegant as she was. Marshall was the man who had been playing the piano. He was shorter than Emily by several inches, handsome, with light brown hair shaved neatly around his ears, and immaculately dressed in a black tailored suit, silk tie, and black leather shoes.

             
“
I love your music,” Emily said.

             
“
I appreciate that. Thank you.”

             
“
You know, Emily,” Felece said, “tonight is Pollyanna’s début. She’s going to sing in front of a group for the first time.”

             
Pollyanna leaned against the piano as Marshall took a seat. “Well, officially anyway.”

             
“
Oh, Felece, my girl,” a young man said as he approached the small group. He draped an arm around her and snuggled up to her ear. “The game starts in five,” he said. He gave her a peck on the cheek and sailed off into the crowd.

             
“
Oh, that’s right. I’m playing cards tonight. Hope you don’t mind if I take off, Emily. I’ll be in the back room around the corner just past the restaurant, if you need me.”

             
“
That’s okay. I see Desirae waving me over anyway.”

Emily said goodbye to everyone, and then walked over to where Desirae sat at the bar talking to a man. He was dressed in a white shirt, dark tie, and dress pants. His long tied-back hair seemed almost a contradiction to his apparel. It reminded her of pictures she had seen in encyclopedias of Indians, or men from the 16
th
or 17
th
centuries. There was something appealing about him, although when she thought Desirae might have plans to bring them together, she found herself comparing him to Michael; those few hours with him had been one of the best times of her life. Now, just thinking of him again made her feel like someone had tied her heart into a knot and given a fierce yank.

“Oh, there you are,” Desirae said when she walked up. “Peter, this is Emily.”

              The man swiveled in his seat, nodding. “It’s a pleasure.”

Desirae stood and put an arm around Emily’s shoulder. “I told ’em you’d join him for a drink. Hope you don’t mind.”

              “
I don’t.”

             
“
Good. Then I’ll leave you two be.” She picked up her drink, and then strolled across the room singing
Love Letters In The Sand
along with the piano.

Peter motioned Emily to sit. “Abe,” he said to the bartender, “bring this young lady a fresh drink will you?”

              Emily sat and he took her glass, setting it aside. “So, I couldn’t help but notice when you first walked in. I haven’t seen starry eyes like that in a long time.”

             
“
It was that obvious?”

             
He raised his brows and smiled. “Well, weren’t you?”

             
“
Oh, maybe a little. But to be honest, I was more... stunned.” She gazed out across the room again. “It’s like... well, a fairytale in here.”

             
“
This place has a unique ambiance, all right.” He followed her gaze to a couple dancing beneath lights that changed with the mood of each song. “Beatrice has good taste, or maybe just a fabulous decorator. It’s too bad more people can’t enjoy it.” Emily thought there was a hint of mockery in his tone, and almost asked him why. He seemed to sense her curiosity. “This isn’t exactly the kind of place you bring your family.”

             
She wondered if he had a wife or girlfriend, and if he did, why he was here.

             
The drinks came one after the other. She looked forward to each one. There was something fiercely stimulating about the champagne fizzing in her mouth, rolling down her throat and into her veins. In the midst of this pleasant but uncharted territory, a dull pain slowly built at her temple and worked its way around to the side of her head. The first thing that came to mind was that it was the champagne, although it tasted too good for that to be true. She took a couple more sips.

             
Pollyanna began to sing, and she turned her attention to the beautiful young woman with a voice so sweet, it brought tears to her eyes.

             
“
Are you okay?” Peter asked when the song ended.

             
Emily finished her drink and pushed the glass aside. “I’m fine. Just had a little too much of this, I think.”

             
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Champagne does that. Although you’d never know you had too much by just looking at you.” He folded his arms, leaned back, and studied her carefully. “So, Emily, do you mind telling me how you ended up at the Palace?”

             
“
Auh, well, it’s a long story involving more than you’d probably care to hear. Probably more than I should say.” She giggled, not sure why, except for maybe the drink. “I mean, I don’t even know you. But...I don’t know, I…well, I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.” She wished she hadn’t said that. “You’re not going over to tell Beatrice now, are you?” She cringed at the thought.

             
He looked at her curiously. “I have no intention of doing anything of the kind.”

             
She was still deciding if she should believe him or not when Beatrice and Donald Schillings strolled over.

Peter sighed as they approached. “Oh, boy,” he said under his breath.

              “
Hello, you two,” Beatrice said.

             
Donald blatantly ignored Peter and gave Emily a look that sent chills up her spine.

             
“
Emily,” Beatrice said, “Mr. Schillings has offered to take you out to a late dinner.”

             
Donald motioned for another round of drinks, but Peter gestured to the bartender. “None for us,” he said, and then turned to Donald. “You’re a little late because Emily has just accepted an invitation from me. In fact, we were just leaving.” He took Emily by the elbow and helped her to her feet.

             
“
I’ll be in touch with you,” Donald said to her.

             
She sensed the cold in his voice and was surprised he allowed them to pass.

             
“
Okay,” she replied, not knowing what more to say. She noticed the silent, but odious exchange between Donald and Peter and wondered what kind of a battle they were having.

             
“
Thanks, Peter,” she said when they stepped out into the hallway. She realized she was leaning on him more than she intended and quickly pulled back. As grateful as she was to him for taking her away from Donald Schillings, she didn’t see how she could go through with this either.

             
“
You’re shaking,” he said as they headed up the stairs.

             
She nodded, but didn’t look up.