He blinks, widening his eyes innocently. “I ran into the girls after dinner.” He hesitates, and I immediately recognize the telltale tone he uses when he’s lying. “We had a few drinks and then came back here. That’s all I swear.”
Taking him by the arm, I mutter an excuse and drag him into the kitchen. Rudy is bustling around, setting up a tray of coffee.
“I know when you’re lying, Dickey,” I accuse.
He just shrugs, and I know I’m not going to get any more out of him. Say what you will about the fella, but he can keep his mouth shut when it matters. Which reminds me of something else.
“Fine, but I’ve been meaning to ask you—the other night at the club, when you were supposed to be watching the street, did you see anyone come in the back entrance to the club?”
He frowns, shaking his head. “Nah, why?”
I frown. It doesn’t make a huge difference now, but part of me still wants to know who attacked Masie, so I can make him pay. An irrational thought, but there it is.
“We just came out the back way after her show, and I didn’t see you.”
“I mighta gotten distracted by a choice piece of calico,” he jokes, tapping me in the chest with the back of his hand.
I slap it away. “It’s not a joke, Dickey. When you’re on watch, I need to know that you’re actually looking out. Anyone coulda gotten in that back door. Someone coulda gotten hurt.”
“I knew it, you’re sweet on that dame. Can’t blame you, really…”
He doesn’t have a chance to finish the thought because I pop him in the side of the face, not a hard slap, but a sharp one nonetheless. “I mean it, Dickey. I need to know you’ve got my back here.”
He steps back, looking genuinely offended. “You know I do, Benny. Always.”
I nod. “Good.”
“And for what it’s worth, I think she’s sweet on you too.”
It’s all I have not to press the issue, not to dig for a reason behind his words. Had she said something to him about me? Instead, I opt to try to play it off. Mostly because he’s not wrong, not about me anyway. I’m over the moon for that girl. And I’m pretty sure that nothing good will come of it. The idea that she might feel the same, well, I can’t decide if it makes it better or worse.
“Yeah, well, keep your opinions to yourself about it.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I know all too well what a dame like that can do to a fella’s heart.”
Brushing him off, I return to the now-vacant living room, then follow the sounds of people chatting out onto the terrace. Rudy is fixing a cup of coffee for June, who is draped over one of the lounge chairs, her eyes hidden in the crook of her elbow.
“Long night?” I ask, helping myself to a handful of grapes from a bowl on the table.
She half lifts her arm, looking at me with one eye. “You can say that again.”
“Where’s Masie?” I ask, scanning the terrace but finding no trace of her.
“She’s gone to wash the gin off,” June says with a dry laugh. “And where were you last night? You missed an absolute riot.”
Behind me, Dickey helps himself to the coffee Rudy has left behind. A maid bustles in with a tray of muffins and he winks at her, taking one and popping it into his mouth before returning to stirring the cream.
“I was visiting my sister in the hospital,” I lie smoothly. I’d stopped in only briefly on Ma and Aggie, too shaken from my earlier encounter to be any real company. Then I’d spent the rest of the evening cleaning and washing the blankets on Aggie’s bed in anticipation of her return home. The mindless work had been enough to keep me busy—distracted.
And the girls had taken advantage of my absence to go out on the town to get into who knows what kind of trouble. My instinct is to chastise them, to remind Masie how dangerous it is to wander out alone, but I bite my tongue. She doesn’t need a lecture from me, and apparently Dickey had tagged along, so they weren’t completely unchaperoned at least. But I make a mental note not to let the matter repeat.
Rudy interrupts, holding a silver tray out to me. “A message for you from Mister Schultz.”
I take the folded letter, reading over it quickly.
“Dutch wants us to meet him for supper,” I announce. “Masie, June, JD, and me.”
“What time?” Dickey asks, reading over my shoulder.
“Five. But I don’t recognize the address.”
“Oh, that’s the new place he just bought. It’s on Fifty-Eighth Street,” Dickey offers. “I helped a crew clear out some old timbers and furniture last week.”
“He’s opening a new club for Masie,” June interjects, her arm still draped across her face. “His trip to Chicago musta gone well.”
I read over the note once more, then hand it back to Rudy, who bustles out of the room. “Can you let JD know, June?”
“Oh, I suppose. If he’s not here, he’s probably holed up in his little apartment downtown. It’s closer to the club, so he crashes there on late nights. He bought it for me, in fact, but I prefer it here. So much more elbow room.” With a deep sigh, she sits up, swinging her feet to the ground. “Let me get changed and I’ll head over there. I haven’t seen him in a few days, and I’m sure he’s missed me terribly.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I add quickly, remembering her remark about fishing for compliments.
She grins at my words, then steps into my arms, offering me a warm, if unexpected, hug. Kissing me once on the cheek, she whispers in my ear. “I expect you to join us next time.”
“Count on it,” I say, releasing her to Dickey, who quickly drains his cup and holds an arm out to her.
“I’m about to make my way home, too. Can I walk you down?”
She takes his arm and the two slink out the French doors, leaving me alone on the terrace with the chirping birds mingled with the sounds of the congested city below. Fixing myself a cup of joe, I walk to the edge of the building, leaning against the stone wall.
The breeze blows in from the east, and the scent of the river is thick and mossy in the warm air. I let it sweep over me, mussing my hair, as I tilt my face up to the sunlight. I can’t help but wish Dickey had remained behind. I was hoping to confide in him about my predicament—hoping he might have some idea what I could do to wiggle out of the spot I found myself stuck in. Betraying Dutch was as good as a death sentence—not to mention I’d lose Masie forever. But on the flip side, how could I justify putting my family in danger yet again? With Aggie only just beginning her recovery, who’s to say she doesn’t backslide, maybe irreparably this time, if Ma has to go back to scrounging extra shifts at the cannery. And that’s best-case scenario. I may not know much about Agent O’Hara, but one thing is abundantly clear—he’s a man willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants, and I very seriously doubt he’d stop at hurting innocent people.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts I don’t hear Masie creep up behind me. It’s not until the wind changes, carrying the fresh floral scent of her to my nose, that I glance over my shoulder. She is already so close she leans against my back, wrapping her arms around my midsection and resting her head between the blades of my shoulders. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to revel in the feel of her. I slide my hands down her arms, twining her fingers in mine.
“I should be upset with you for going out without a guard last night,” I say finally, unable to hold my tongue any longer.
“And are you? Upset with me, that is?”
Her voice is soft, a whisper, but also firm. There’s no shame in it, no regret.
Turning in her embrace, I face her, tipping her chin up with my thumb. “No, I know you’re very capable of taking care of yourself, despite what your father might think. But I just wish you didn’t have to. I wish I could be there for you every moment, so you never had to be alone again.”
“Benjamin,” she begins. But hearing my name on her lips unravels my resolve, and I quickly seize her mouth with mine.
In that moment, there�
��s no distance between us—no reason there should be. I’m just a boy and she’s just a girl, and everything feels right in the world.
As usual, it’s not long before reality crashes in and she pulls back, dragging her thumb across my bottom lip before releasing me completely.
“Daddy’s home from Chicago early. He left a few hours ago, but before he did, I spoke to him about keeping you on as my guard. He’s promised to think about it. I want you, every minute. I may not need you to protect me, but I want you to. I feel safe when you’re with me. And that’s something I haven’t felt in a really long time.”
I want to kiss her again. The desire spreads through my veins like wildfire, but I stand firm, settling for reaching out and brushing a still-damp tendril of yellow hair off her face, tucking it behind one ear.
“I got a note from him when I arrived. He wants to see us, all of us, at the new club for supper.”
The smile falls from her lips, quickly replaced, but it’s enough to give me pause.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing at all. He’s been working on this deal for some time. I knew it was coming…” Turning her back to me, she heads to the coffee cart. “I guess I didn’t really expect it to happen so soon. There were issues with the labor unions.” She waves her hand in the air. “You know, things had to be negotiated before the renovations could begin.”
“Well, it sounds like he got it all worked out,” I offer, crossing to the table and pulling out a chair for her.
She fixes a cup and takes the seat. “Yes, it does.”
I sit across from her, putting enough distance between us that I’m not tempted to touch her, even though everything inside me demands to do just that.
“You don’t seem too pleased about it.”
She lifts the cup, looking at me over the rim before taking a sip. “It’s not that. It’s just…I suppose I’m a little nervous about starting this new endeavor.”
She’s tiptoeing around something, I can tell that much, but I’m unsure how much to press so I settle for offering my support. “Well, is there anything I can do? Any way I can help?”
She smiles, and it’s real. Genuine and relaxed. It’s not like the smile she normally uses, not the one I see her offer from the stage or to her friends. It’s somehow smaller and bigger at the same time. “Just being here helps, thank you.”
I nod, taking another handful of grapes from the bowl and popping one into my mouth. “So, is there anything else you’d like to do today? Because I had a thought, if you’re up for it.”
Sitting back, she crosses her legs, the slit in her silk robe falling open to expose her bare knee. “What did you have in mind?”
I swallow the grape whole, nearly choking on it as I drag my gaze up to her face. “I was thinking I’d like to take you to Coney Island for the day, if you’re interested.”
Her face lights up, and my chest swells. “That sounds delightful. Let me go and get ready. We should pack a lunch, so we can picnic at the beach. Will you let Butler know?”
I stand, checking the pocket watch at my side. “Swell. We can be back in plenty of time to get changed for supper with Dutch. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask, how come you call Rudy Butler?”
She laughs. “Rudy? Is that what you call him? I suppose he loves that. Um, well, I suppose it’s what Mother always called him, so it just sort of stuck. Do you imagine he’s terribly offended by it?”
I consider her words. “Honestly, I doubt it matters much to him either way.”
She makes a face. “I will speak to him on the matter. Later. My hair isn’t going to do itself.”
“I think you look perfect as you are,” I say honestly. Her hair, naturally wavy as it is, is drying into soft, bouncy curls. The bruise along the side of her face has mostly faded, leaving behind a greenish tint.
She points at me. “June has been a terrible influence on you, you know? Thirty minutes, that’s all I need.”
Rudy and I pack a basket of food. By the time we’re done, Masie steps into the kitchen, perfectly done up. Her hair is bone straight, bobbed to just above her shoulders, a simple lace ribbon tying all but her fringe bangs back. She’s changed into a short-sleeved blouse with a gauzy grey scarf and matching wide-leg slacks.
“Are we ready?” she asks, leaning across the marble countertop.
I hold up the basket. “We are now.”
“I haven’t been to Coney Island since I was a child,” I admit as we make our way toward Brooklyn in the new subway line. It’s crowded with people—mostly businessmen on their way to lunch. There are only a few children, grasping tightly to the rail, making their way toward the amusement park with parents in tow. It’s impossible to squelch my excitement. The best part of the crowds, there will be no one watching, no prying eyes who might go whisper back to my father. Today, I can just be a girl, out at the beach with a boy she adores.
“Oh?” Benjamin says. “I took Aggie and Thomas a few summers ago. We rode the roller coasters until we were all so sick we couldn’t even look at food for two days.”
I grin at the thought of him, green and ill, stumbling across the beach with the little ones nipping at his heels.
“Daddy let me ride the carousel. JD wanted to ride the horse, of course, but I was determined to ride the camel. I seem to remember that I actually raced to it as soon as it was our turn in line, and I knocked some poor child out of the way to get to it first. I’d say I’m not proud of that, but it’d be a lie.” I grin.
“Typical Masie,” he says, his tone joking. “Always getting what she wants.”
I have to look away before my expression can betray me. If only that were true.
When we finally arrive, the place is bigger than I remember. As we spill out onto the street, I squint against the sun, hurriedly crossing the bridge leading toward the dreamland tower and lagoon. Ribbons, banners, and flags flap in the breeze where they hang from every spire and rooftop along the boardwalk. The entire place is teeming with people, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Reaching out, I take Benjamin’s hand so we don’t get separated in the chaos. We stop just long enough to drop off the basket in one of the penny lockers and purchase a fistful of ride tickets.
“They’ve just opened a new rollercoaster,” Benjamin says, pointing toward a towering wooden beast of a ride down the boardwalk. “The Cyclone.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I demand, dragging him toward the entrance.
We ride the coaster twice before I nearly lose my voice from screaming in delight and decide we’d best let it recover if I’m to have any hope of performing at the club later. Stopping at one of the many game tents, Benjamin hands over a quarter in exchange for three softballs, which he lobs at empty milk jugs one at a time. Finally, the last toss hits them just right and they fall. The mustachioed game operator claps and pulls a large stuffed bear from the pile behind his booth.
Benjamin stops him. “Actually, can we get the camel instead?”
The man shrugs and makes the exchange. Benjamin quickly thanks him and hands the plush animal over to me.
Something swells inside me, an uncontainable joy, and I throw myself into his arms. He stiffens for only a moment before returning the embrace.
“It’s wonderful, thank you.”
He nuzzles the side of his face into my hair and kisses the tender skin behind my ear, a quick peck, but more than enough to reignite the passion I’d managed to hold at bay since our first kiss.
Forcing myself to release him, I blush furiously, turning away before he can see.
He takes my hand again and we wander further down the pier, stopping every so often for a game or small ride. When we finally stop, I realize where he’s been leading me. To the crown jewel of the park—the giant Ferris wheel.
Handing our tickets to the operator, we slide into a car, strapping ourselves in. The wheel spins just a bit, letting the next load on, until we reach the tip top, the entire city skyline to one side, the
vast ocean to the other. In the distance, the Statue of Liberty peeks through the clouds, torch in hand, welcoming ships as they pull into the harbor. It’s then that Benjamin drapes one arm across my shoulders, leaning in.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he whispers.
I can only nod in agreement…until I turn to see that he’s not staring at the view at all, but rather at me. This time, when our lips meet, the fire is instant and all consuming. His free hand moves to my hair, and I press myself into him, as close as I can manage in the confines of the chair. I’m not sure how long we neck, but it’s long enough that I lose track of everything—time, space. I can’t even tell whose air I’m breathing.
I know we shouldn’t; I know it’s dangerous. Daddy would never let me keep him as a guard if he found out—if he didn’t lose his temper and beat him half to death. Still, I can’t stop myself. And here, in this place, it feels safe. Alone in a crowd.
I’m lost in the moment. Lost in Benjamin’s embrace.
The wheel begins moving in earnest, and in that moment, he pulls away, practically growling in frustration as we slice through the air, up and down. He leans one arm over the rail, discreetly taking my hand with the other.
“I’m sorry, Masie,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I shouldn’t—we shouldn’t—but I can’t seem to control myself.”
I tighten my grasp on his hand. “Please don’t apologize.”
“But I should. I should be sorry. I know we can’t…” He leaves the thought unfinished.
“I’m not sorry,” I say, jutting my chin into the air defiantly. “Not even a little.”
He sighs deeply, like a great weight has settled onto him. “What do you want from me, Masie?”
Everything. The thought comes without hesitation, the voice in my mind strong and determined. I want him in every way one person can want another. I want everything he can give me and everything he can’t. But that’s not fair of me to ask. Not when I’ve already taken so much.
“I want whatever you’re able to offer,” I decide. “And I’ll take it, with no regrets.”
The Canary Club Page 18