For the space of four heartbeats, she nodded, smiling weakly. She thought Johnny had let the bodyguard idea go. She preferred walking through the friendly neighborhood or taking subways and taxis. She didn’t want to hurt Johnny’s feelings, he looked so damned pleased and he’d been so agreeable lately, but part of her bucked at the idea of having another hired nursemaid in a box with wheels.
“Take a look; examine your new automobile, doll face.”
She exclaimed over its shiny new paint, silver chrome, polished lights, wooden running board and plush upholstered seats. “This is just too much, Johnny.” She ran her hand over its sleek exterior, overwhelmed, not at all sure what to say, grasping at straws. “This had to have cost a mint; a year of an average working man’s wages.”
“I ain’t average and we can afford it. Besides, with what you spend in taxis…”
She smiled at Jimmy. She recognized him. He’d brought the birdcage to her apartment when she first moved to Brooklyn. “Hi. How are you?”
He nodded politely, fiddling with the cap on his head.
“Look inside, will ya, Han,” Johnny urged, opening the car door. He grabbed her, kissed her long, hard and thorough right on the street with Jimmy watching. “Nothin’s too good for my gal. What do you think?”
She saw Jimmy look away, but not before his face reddened.
“Well?” Johnny’s eyes drilled into hers, his arm was around her, his voice expectant.
She hugged him, kissed his cheek and patted his hand. “You’re the best, it’s great, but I don’t need a driver. It’s too much, too generous.”
“Quit worrying. Just think of the kid as your personal valet. Ain’t that what them rich folks you like reading about call ’em?”
She felt pressured, confused, not sure if Johnny was really doing this to keep her safe or just to keep tabs on her. Her voice was terse. “Men have valets, ladies have maids or companions.”
Johnny grunted, “I’m your companion. Josie’s the maid. Consider him whatever ya want, but he’s yours, along with the wheels.”
“But, I like to walk and…you can’t buy me a person.”
Johnny stuck his hand in his pocket. “Did I say you can’t walk? The damn car is yours to use whenever you want or need it. For all I care you can drive it into the river, but Jimmy stays and if not him, someone. I’m conceding here. You know I won’t welch about keeping you safe. And yes, I can buy a person.”
She realized a gal had to pick her fights and Johnny had been aces lately. “I’m sorry, babe.” She rubbed his shoulder, hanging onto his arm. “So should we take it for a spin?”
Johnny grinned. The redhead stepped up to open the back door for them. “Ladies first.”
“Why, thank you, Jimmy. You’re a gentleman.” She was amused by the stunned look on his face as she got into the car.
“Any fella lets a dame go first is asking for trouble, kid,” Johnny muttered as he slipped in after her. “Doing that, you dangerously undermine the fact that men are superior and that kind of crap gives women the notion they’re better.”
Hannah blew out a breath. “Johnny’s teasing. Don’t listen to that claptrap, Jimmy.”
Johnny put his arm around her as Jimmy closed the door. She giggled as his burning lips seared hers, his tongue a spear, puncturing the inner sanctum of her mouth. She jumped away when the door opened. Jimmy got in, his face as pink as a schoolgirl’s blush.
“Hey, kid. Get used to seeing me bussing my gal. I can’t keep my hands off her. Can you blame me?”
“No sir,” said Jimmy, turning from pink to as purple as a garden beet.
Hannah poked Johnny. “Behave, we’re embarrassing him.”
But, Johnny was in a good mood and unusually demonstrative. “Yeah, this dame is mine, all mine, Jimmy. Don’t ever forget that and I expect you to make sure no one else does either.”
“Yes, sir,” said Jimmy starting the car, his eyes on the road ahead. The engine rumbled to life.
“How’ bout you take us over the bridge?”
Hannah sputtered, “Hey, you said he was mine. Shouldn’t I be decidin’ where he goes, in my new car?”
Johnny leaned back, his dark gaze holding hers. He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay. Kid, you heard her. She’s in charge. Do whatever the Hell she says to do.”
Hannah told Jimmy to circle the block twice and take her home. “I’ve got things to do.”
The automobile jerked forward, knocking her hard into Johnny and she laughed.
“Make that once,” ordered Johnny still holding her tight and with a nod to Jimmy adding, “Then park this crate behind Desalvo’s old place and go take a walk, kid.”
18 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Even with his white shirt casually unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up and his fedora on the table, Johnny was tense. As if enough people hadn’t been shot, ambushed or harassed and now another year passed and the problems between Joe the Boss Massearia and Boss Marranzano were still escalating. A showdown was inevitable. When that happened priorities would need rearranging, alliances reevaluated, cemented. While his own business was thriving, surviving in the famiglia was like walking a tightrope. One misstep and you were history. No matter, the adventure and rewards were usually worth it, most of the time.
It was the same with Hannah, he mused. She was a mercurial, alluring and expensive addiction. Happy as long as things went her way, a troublesome bitch when they didn’t and far too independent for her own good.
As for The Renegade, it was a swell deal for him all around. The joint was pulling in dough and keeping busy kept Hannah happy. In his opinion, she could sing a few notes, but her voice wasn’t the ticket that packed them in, instead it was her, her looks and her fire. Jealousy gut punched him sometimes. He didn’t like sharing her with her many admirers, suckers like bees to a flower.
Jimmy was a perfect example. He’d hired the kid to drive, act as her protector, errand boy, whatever, an extra set of eyes and ears when he couldn’t be around and she’d made a damned pet outta him. The kid idolized her with a puppy dog worship that was almost pitiful to behold. Not that he was jealous of some young, freckle faced punk, but when Jimmy wasn’t hanging around the warehouse talking to Turk or the fellas waiting for her to call, he was glued to Hannah like her goddamned shadow. It was obvious he was smitten. A necessary situation, one he’d insisted on, but he couldn’t trust the kid anymore and that bothered him. The sound of the front door opening jolted him out of his musings. “Where the hell ya been all day?”
“Hello to you too, kiddo.” She breezed into the apartment, a big smile on her face. Ignoring his impatient query to study her reflection on the small gilt mirror by the entry she patted her hair looking pleased. The door behind her opened further and Jimmy, big surprise, started in behind her, toting a slew of packages that all but blocked his view.
“Oh, over there, Jimmy darlin’.” She gave a nod towards the bedroom. She fanned her flushed face saying, “Phew, it’s hot in here.”
.Jimmy stopped short at the sight of him sitting in his chair. The kids discomfort was obvious. He nervously edged by him to put her packages away. “Um, good afternoon, Mr. Gallo, sir.”
With a curt nod, Johnny dismissed him, his attention on Hannah. She was obviously ignoring his question. She looked good enough to eat in a peach and yellow sundress, a tiny matched hat perched jauntily on her head. The corner fan stirred the silky layers of her dress, revealing her shapely stems, distracting him as he repeated himself.
“So, where the hell have you been all day long?”
“You can go, thanks, Jim,” she said, reaching to give Jimmy a quick peck on the cheek.
Chaste or not, Johnny didn’t cotton to Hannah’s easy affection with people. Jimmy must have sensed his displeasure for his freckled face turned pink as a virgin’s blush. Stuttering a speedy goodbye, he took off.
Johnny shook his head. “That kid has a crush on you, bigger than Mae West’s tits.”
“So what if he does, it’s harmless.” She breezed over to brush his lips before sitting down across from him. She looked unruffled, as she placed her clutch on the marble topped table and peeled off her white gloves. Her jeweled eyes darted to where his jacket lay on the chair. She cooed to the canary, peeping its’ noisy, annoying little head off in its cage. “WhatsamatterFreeyamissedmebabe?”
The bird cheeped even louder. Irritated she was paying more attention to the stupid bird than him, he cursed. “Christ, you got some cajones, Han.”
“You have no cause to be annoyed, Johnny. You know Tuesdays I meet Josie and the girl’s to go to the picture show.” It still irked that he came and went as he pleased, but expected her to be accounted for at all times.
“I forgot.” He was agitated by the reminder, by her complete lack of fear, by her cooing to the bird first. “I don’t like waiting, or the idea of ya hopping about town with a bunch of dumb jigaboos. You shoulda left a note or something anyways. You know I got a lot on my mind.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I didn’t and don’t call my friends names, please. Jimmy was with me so you had nothing to worry about. We saw ‘Lilac Time’, in case you’re interested. Gary Cooper is the cat’s pajama’s, handsome, a real man’s man. You’d like him.”
“Spare me. I wouldn’t like him. I don’t like men,” he snapped. He didn’t want to hear about another fella, celluloid or not. He only had tonight. She’d be upset as soon as he said he was leaving on business again. But, he’d brought a peace offering. “Oh, I got a case of bootleg whiskey, Brown. I put some in the kitchen, the rest in the hall closet under some blankets.”
“Eel’s hips, goodie, I’ve been going on the fumes in my flask since we cleaned out the last bottle.”
“Well, go easy.”
“You are some piece of work,” she gasped, fixing her gaze on his face. “I’m not the only one that drinks here.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Sorry, it’s been a tough week. I—”
“Need a drink. Good, me too.” Jumping up, she glanced into the bedroom and seeing his packed valise knew. Damn, damn, damn. Lips pursed she forced herself not to react, not to be furious. He’d promised no more long trips just last month, promised he’d be there this weekend when she previewed some new songs she’d learned. Pouring the whiskey, she added soda, ice and a swizzle stick of a little boy peeing.
She put the drinks down, kicked off her shoes and threw off her hat. With a slight pause, she debated whether she should kick him in the shins or love him so fiercely he’d hate to go. She opted for peace instead. She snuggled up to him real close, handing him his drink. She sipped hers, thoughtful.
He smiled when she rained tiny little kisses all over his face and neck. It was hard to determine which was hotter, the whiskey, her disappointment at the idea she’d be alone again for who knew how long, or his dark heavy lidded gaze as it flitted over her, his hand going under her skirt.
Breathing deeply she tried to focus on the good things, her work, her friends and of course, Johnny who while demanding was good to her. His warm cologne scent was as familiar as it was comforting. He rubbed her back, her spine and her legs. Her emotions zig-zagged as she wondered when he’d tell her. “Okay, spill. Where you going this time and for how long?”
With applause ringing in her ears, Hannah bowed, waving happily to the audience as the curtain came down. “That went well.” She cheerfully pulled off her white feathered headband, savoring the exhilaration that came after a good performance.
Exchanging a few triumphant hugs, she thanked her band and hurried off towards her dressing room. While the rest of the performers made due with shared rooms no larger than a closet, her dressing room was huge. It had mirrored walls, a built in vanity table, loveseat, a radio, a victrola, bookshelves, a counter-top bar, two comfortable lounge chairs and a fully functional bath. When she’d wondered about it, Johnny assured her she was the joints star performer and he’d insisted on the best.
Hannah paused at the door, eavesdropping when she heard raised voices.
“Ain’t gonna convince me you ain’t nothin’ but a bought and paid for slave. A spy ought know where his loyalty lie, shame on you, boy, shame on you.” Josie was speaking to someone.
“Jesus Christ, woman. You have no idea what you’re talking about, what I feel.” It was Jimmy’s voice.
“So I is right. You do gots designs on her.”
“I never said…yeah and I know I don’t got a chance.” Jimmy sounded upset. “Damn, Josie, she’s my dream gal, sweet, pretty, honest. I love—”
“All the more reason you should tell her the truth about him.”
Puzzled, Hannah listened carefully. Him? And, Jimmy, she knew he liked her, she thought the world of him too, but they were friends, just dear friends. Surely, he understood that?
“Ain’t my place to tell her the truth. Mr. Gallo’s the one pays me.”
Hannah tightly gripped the door knob. Why was it, her two best friends here in New York were always bickering? And, what were they referring to?
“I’ll be skinnin’ ya alive myself if you ever hurt that gal ’cause she my friend. Maybe I will tell her how he lie.”
“Damn, Josie, you better keep your trap shut. When Mr. Gallo asks me questions, I never tell him nothin’ important.”
Hannah’s temper flared. Spying! How dare Johnny question Jimmy when he was always traipsing off on his so called business trips even after he told her they’d stop being so frequent? He told her he was taking her to Chicago next month whether she liked it or not. She’d protested about leaving work, but he’d told Shotzi and Shotzi already had a replacement act arranged. His conspiring behind her back really upset her. She’d just started singing three weekends a month and had to fight for the extra three days as it was, but he claimed he was just trying to surprise her, spend time with her so she’d let it go.
“Don’t you Mr. Gallo me. He don’t scare me. Far as I see, he ain’t got no cause to be making trouble for Hannah when she be a good woman.”
Getting the gist of it, Hannah threw open the door. “Okay, you two, enough, please. Now what are you arguing about again?”
Throwing off her boa, Hannah glanced pointedly at each of them. Josie didn’t answer. She poked the needle in and out of the fabric she was holding as fast as a sewing machine bobbin. Jimmy, looking uncomfortable, stood across the room by the window. “Um, uh, I’ll go outside while you change.”
“Thanks, no, you stay.” Her head ached. She wondered what they’d been referring to. Should she push? Did she want to know? She changed behind her dressing screen. Josie handed her street clothes, but the unusual silence in the room became a dull roar in her ears. Hannah decided she did want to know, had to. “Okay dear friends of mine. What lie? Talk to me.”
Hannah walked to the window. She parted the heavy velvet brocade curtain and stared at the snowflakes coming down fast. The sky and ground below were a blur of blinding white. It was crispy cold outside and she was thankfully toasty warm. The thermostat was turned on high, the noisy radiator pipes were humming. When the front door burst open, Josie stood smiling in the doorway. She stomped snow off her boots. She was all bundled up.
“Ah, Jo, I can’t believe you made it here to clean.” Johnny hated it that she’d made their maid her friend, but she and Josie shared a love of music and were close in age. And, Josie never judged her like other women she met usually did.
“Might not make it back.” Josie whipped off her scarf, hat and gloves and looked in the mirror, fixing her hair. “And, I wanted to hear about your trip.” She turned, staring. “So, how was Chicago?”
Taking Josie’s coat and hanging it on the clothes tree, Hannah hugged her tight. “Well, it wasn’t snowing, but it was cold and rainy. We went to the openin’ of the Chicago Cotton Club and saw Dempsey and Tunney fight at Soldier Field. I met Dempsey. Did you get my postcard?”
“Yeah, it said it was da greatest prizefight of da centur
y.”
Hannah shrugged. “Well, I admit watching half naked muscled men grappling with each other is interesting, but truth to tell, the fight seemed dull as a preacher’s sermon until the seventh round. Dempsey finally started fighting and won, though they declared Tunney the winner anyway for some stupid reason.” She handed Josie a big bag filled with souvenirs, fans, a flag, a bottle of perfume, candy.
“Told you not ta get me nothin’.” Josie peered into the bag, tongue clucking, her dark eyes shining.
“I don’t listen,” admitted Hannah, offering to make tea. “Oh, and I already did all the laundry and changed the sheets myself.” Sensitive to her role as a paid servant, Josie wouldn’t have felt right visiting unless all her work was done.
“Now I knows you must be bored. Chompin’ at the bit to get back to work, are we?”
Hannah giggled, walking to the kitchen. “Yeah. My sweet little replacement managed to finagle her way into Shotzi’s good graces. Worked her wiles on the poor dupe. She got him to agree to let her finish up the month since we got back one week sooner.”
“Screwin’ his brains out probably and dat fella don’t have too many to spare,” muttered Josie looking around the apartment. “Where Jimmy at?”
“I sent him to get lunch. Anyways, Shotzi wants to change the whole entertainment format. Johnny says I’d still do Wednesday nights; they’d still keep the same free weekend and weeknights for different acts or events, but on my weekends, instead of doing my usual four sets, Shotzi wants Adele to do two long sets early evening, dinner show, I work from nine until closing.”
“If you not happy wit dat girl, you just tell your man. He the real boss.”
Sipping her tea, Hannah remembered finding out about the “lie”. That Johnny was the true power behind the Renegade, the silent partner, the wallet. She’d been furious when she’d found out, but he insisted he hadn’t lied. “I still hate the idea he didn’t tell me straight up, but he convinced me that his heart was in the right place. He didn’t want me to think I got the job because of him. I forgave him, but it still bugs me he omitted that. I want to get work because of my own abilities, not because I’m bonking the boss.”
The Songbird with Sapphire Eyes Page 22