by Amber Brock
“You think it will be too hard for me? You must not know me that well. Which is a surprise. What does it take? A head for strategy? Persistence? Smarts?” Kitty pointed at him. “I got all that from you, and you know it.”
“You’re certainly showing your stubborn streak.” He sat back in his chair. “Fine. You want to follow us around, you can. Until you get tired of it, and I assure you, you will. Trust me, no hard feelings when you decide to give up.”
Kitty stuck out her chin. “All I ask is that you give me a chance. Do you really think I can’t do this?”
“What I’m having a hard time understanding is why you want to. Do you hope you’ll end up running things? Do you want to take Andre’s job when he takes over mine?”
“I don’t know what I want in the end,” she admitted. “But I know how I want to start. I’m asking you to have faith in me.”
“But wouldn’t you be happier as someone’s wife?”
“I don’t think this will prevent me from that kind of happiness too.”
“It will if it means that you’re always hunched over a calculator in some office,” he said. “You’ll never meet a nice man.”
“I’ve met plenty of men. This is what I want now.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I’ll let you try it. That’s all I can offer.”
“And I promise you, I’ll do the best job I can.” She stood and held out a hand. Her father rose and shook it. “At least I’m starting with more than a ring in a bar of soap.”
“I’ll give you this. Twenty-five years, and you’ve kept me guessing for every one of them.” His eyes twinkled. “Tomorrow morning, eight o’clock sharp. Andre will meet you in his office.”
“Thanks, Papa.” Kitty tilted her head. “We allow Jews in our hotels, right?”
Her father’s face changed as his lips flattened into a thin line. “There’s no religion test to stay in my hotels. Where is all this coming from?”
She drew in a breath then exhaled slowly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Walking around the city. I’ve seen things I don’t like. I’ve talked to people. I don’t know what I can do, exactly, but I feel like it starts here. With me. With us. I’ve also made some mistakes lately, but I’m planning to learn from them.”
“That’s admirable,” her father said. “But what are you going to do if this turns out to be a mistake too?”
“I’ll keep learning.”
* * *
The next morning, Kitty stood in front of Andre’s office door five minutes early, her hand poised to knock. Before she could, the door flew open. She and Andre both gasped.
“I was opening the door for you,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be down early. I suspected you wouldn’t come at all, to tell you the truth.”
So she was going to have to prove herself to Andre as well as her father. She stepped into the office, which was far smaller than her father’s. Andre had very little furniture, just a desk, two chairs, and a standing lamp in the corner. The desk was covered with papers and had a calculator with printing tape spewing out down to the floor.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” she said, taking a seat in the chair nearer the door. “I know how busy you are.”
He chuckled. “No need to be so formal. So your pop says you want to learn the business. I’m not sure I understand what that even means, but I’ll help you if I can.”
“Surely you know what that means. You help run the business.”
“But there’s an awful lot to it. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You must have started somewhere yourself, right?”
“I did. At the front desk. Not back here, in the offices.”
Kitty was surprised she hadn’t known that. She’d only gotten to know Andre when he started working at her father’s side, so she’d never considered the years of work that led up to his current position. The thought was daunting. How long would it take her to learn what Andre had? For the first time, she saw Andre as an expert, not as her father’s sidekick.
“Do you think that’s where I should start?” she asked. “At the front desk?”
“Is that where you want to start? It helps, but what I do now is so different.”
She folded and unfolded the pleat on her skirt, not wanting to admit to any doubt. “How about you do what you normally do, and we’ll see how I get on. I’m a quick learner, at least.”
“I know that.” Andre rubbed his forehead. “Look, your pop says he doesn’t understand why you’ve got this sudden inclination, but if you can really follow through, I’m here to help. Today I’m going through payroll. Want to have a look?”
Kitty pulled her chair around to the side of his desk, grateful that Andre wasn’t pushing further. If he sensed her hesitation, he was willing to ignore it and give her a shot. Since hearing about his attachment to Hen, she’d increasingly considered what a stand-up guy he was. No-nonsense, reliable, and apparently more willing to consider her capable even than her father. She could easily see him as a partner in her future work with the hotels.
As the hours passed, Andre worked and Kitty watched. He explained things at every step, and she asked occasional questions. She was so invested that she hadn’t noticed the afternoon sneaking up on them.
“Want some lunch?” Andre stood and stretched.
“Sure. What are you having?” she asked.
“I was going to grab a sandwich from the cart outside. That’s usually what I get, but you probably want something fancier. I’ll get you something from the restaurant if you’d rather.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He returned with two turkey sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and two bottles of cola. They unwrapped their sandwiches on the desk and ate.
“Are we on lunch break?” Kitty asked between bites.
“Looks that way,” Andre said.
“Then we can gossip. Tell me what happened with Hen. How’d you win her heart?”
He laughed. “Come on, isn’t that girl talk?”
“I’m a girl, so talk.”
Andre shrugged. “Turned out we liked the same things. She charmed my friends at the bridge game, and I’d always thought she was pretty. Guess that’s all it takes for a guy like me.”
Kitty could have sworn she saw his cheeks redden under his beard. She smiled. “So you’ve always had a thing for Hen?”
He shifted in his seat. “I knew she was engaged, and it’s not right to go after a girl who’s got a guy. But when you and Hen had your falling-out in Miami, and she and I had those dinners together, she told me what a bum that guy really is. She said on the plane she was planning on dumping him. I said good riddance. Then, after she broke it off with him, she called me.”
“A love story for the ages,” Kitty said.
“It might not be Hollywood, but it works for me.” Andre balled up the wax paper from his lunch. “I gotta tell you the truth, Kitty. I knew your pop wanted you and me to get together.”
She pressed her lips together to keep her jaw from dropping. “You did?”
“Yeah. And I’m sure you felt the same way I did about that.”
“What do you mean? Am I not good enough for you?” she huffed.
He gave her a sidelong glance. “I got the impression you thought you were too good for me. And I always thought of you as trouble. Since the day I met you. Even if you had been interested in me, I can’t say I would have taken you up on it.”
“You’re probably right.” She nearly winced at the thought of Max when Andre said trouble. “I may have been. But that’s what all this is about. I’m trying to make a change.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hen said. And I can see it on you. You look different.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “Let’s get back to work.�
�
Kitty and Hen rekindled their friendship slowly, starting with a casual lunch here and there. Kitty didn’t have as much time as she used to, thanks to her work at the hotel, but she took Hen up on every invitation. Though Hen was tentative at first with what she shared, the more time they spent together, the more they fell back into their old rhythms. Kitty worked to prove that she could be truthful and trustworthy. Hen’s wariness, though not entirely gone, began to melt.
One evening in late February, Hen suggested that they all meet at the Alhambra Club, and Kitty finally had the sense that things were returning to normal. She raced up to the suite after working in the office and dolled up, feeling almost giddy as she rode the elevator back down. Hen and Andre were waiting outside the club entrance for her. Hen’s cheeks were straining with her smile.
“You look like you’re about to burst,” Kitty said, hugging Hen. “What’s going on?”
“I have a surprise for you,” Hen said.
“Oh, Hen! Are you—”
“Stop right there. We’re not engaged. Yet.” She elbowed Andre before continuing. “You’ve seemed so down lately. I thought this might cheer you up. Come on, we’ll show you inside.”
Kitty followed them but froze as she walked through the doors. What she saw had to be due to the haze of smoke, or the distance. It couldn’t be Max standing on that stage. But, sure enough, there he stood beside Sebastian. His trumpet gleamed in the stage light.
When she saw Kitty’s expression, Hen’s wide smile drooped. Kitty forced herself to brighten.
“What a wonderful surprise,” she said, with much false cheer. “Will you ask Jimmy to get our usual booth for us?”
Hen went to the maître d’ stand, and Kitty held Andre back.
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming back?” she hissed.
“You’d quit coming to the club,” he said under his breath. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“You didn’t want to tell Hen this was a bad idea?”
He held up his hands. “I thought she knew something I didn’t. So I take it you’re on the outs with him?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t she know that?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to get into it,” Kitty said.
“Well, tell her. We can leave.”
“No. This is my club. I can tough it out.”
Andre shook his head. “Whatever you want.”
Hen returned to them. “Jimmy said he’s ready when we are. Why don’t you go say hi to Max, Kitty?”
“They look so busy,” Kitty said. “I’ll catch him on a break. Let’s go sit down and get a drink.”
Hen still looked confused, but she said nothing more. The group followed Jimmy to the booth, and Kitty immediately lit a cigarette. There had been no good time to tell Hen what had happened with Max, given that Hen was only now starting to think of Kitty in a positive light again. Spilling the truth would have brought up the ghosts of Kitty’s old crimes, so she’d mostly avoided talking about him. When Hen had brought him up, Kitty had implied that the distance had cooled things between them. Hen had always dropped it. But now, either Kitty would have to tell Hen the whole story right then and there, or she would have to speak to Max at some point that evening. Neither seemed particularly appealing.
Kitty leaned back to be sure her face was in the shadows the booth offered, but she realized quickly there was no reason to bother. Andre and Hen talked and laughed loudly in full view of the stage. Surely Max would see them and know Kitty was with them. When the band started playing, all she could hear was a clanging racket. Every note jabbed her eardrum. They played song after song, and each passing minute brought them closer to taking a break. Kitty was concerned Hen would start hounding her about saying hello to Max, but it turned out she didn’t have to worry about that.
At first, Kitty thought the crowd was just lively, but the increasing noise from two men at a center table began to distract her. They had come in looking swimmy-eyed and had put away drink after drink since then. The more the men drank, the more animated they became. Sebastian was in the middle of the second verse of “Mona Lisa” when one of the men yelled out something Kitty couldn’t discern. Whatever it was, it made Sebastian flinch, but he kept going with the song. The second man pounded on the yeller’s arm, and they both erupted into laughter. Sebastian closed his eyes and kept singing.
The second man stood, lost his footing, and righted himself by holding on to the edge of the table. At this, Andre stood too.
“Hey,” the second man said. “Didn’t you hear?” He looked around the room. “They should have one of those signs here. ‘No dogs and no Puerto Ricans.’ ”
When the man returned to his seat, Andre did the same.
“Aren’t you going to kick them out?” Kitty said.
“They’ve been in here before,” Andre said. “They’re a couple of loudmouths spoiling for a fight. Don’t give ’em one, and they’ll drink themselves to sleep.”
“But you can’t let them talk to Sebastian that way.”
Andre’s eyes darted from the men to Sebastian. “They’re friends with the cops. The taller one might be on the force. I’m not sure. I do know they served in the war. If I go over there, I’ll have a fight on my hands. We don’t need that.”
Kitty turned her attention back to the men. The first one was now glaring at Sebastian through bloodshot eyes.
“Hey,” he called. “Get your PR ass off the stage and out of our city.”
Other patrons looked away as Sebastian stopped singing. The rest of the musicians slowed or stopped their playing in a confused jumble of notes. Max walked to the front of the stage, staring out into the audience. Sebastian leaned into the microphone.
“I’m not Puerto Rican,” he said in a low, deliberate voice. “I’m Cuban.”
The response was like a boxing bell had rung. The two men raced for the stage, pulling Sebastian off and hitting him with their fists as he scrambled to get away. Andre and Kitty stood at the same time. He grabbed her arm.
“Sit down,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Then Max dove into the fray.
Kitty lurched forward, but Andre held her back. She struggled against his grip, keeping her eyes on Max. A few more people jumped into the fight, but she couldn’t see if they were helping or hurting. The only thought in her mind was getting to Max.
“Kitty!” Andre wrapped an arm around her shoulders to hold her in place. “Stop.”
Her vision narrowed to a pinprick, until all she could see were the muscles in the arms of the men currently beating her friends. Without a thought, she bit Andre’s hand. He howled in pain, but he let her go.
She raced across the dance floor until she could clearly see the back of the first man’s head. Desperate, she grabbed a nearby chair. With strength she didn’t know she had, she raised it above her head and brought it down hard on the man’s back.
He went limp. The people crowding around stepped away, and some ran. Two of the chair’s legs had hit the floor after making contact with the victim, and the whole thing had broken to pieces. Kitty still held the splintered half of the chair’s back. As the second man stood, she raised the piece of chair over her shoulder like a batter at home plate, ready to take aim at his face. Her chest heaved as she panted.
“You want some of what your friend got?” she asked. “Hold still.”
He stood for a split second, evaluating, then ran for the front door. Andre was already waiting to block his path.
Kitty dropped the remains of the chair to the floor. Panting, she turned to where Max and Sebastian lay. A few people now crowded around, trying to help, so she could only see their motionless legs.
The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the slick of blood on the dance floor.
Kitty woke in her bed, bl
inking at the alarm clock. Ten o’clock. Someone had put her dressing gown on her, but underneath she still wore the dress she’d had on at the club. A few dark spots on the dress’s lapel brought the whole evening rushing back. She fought her way out of the twisted blankets, desperate to see if someone else was in the suite. Someone must know what happened to Max and Sebastian.
To her surprise, Andre waited in the living room. He stood when she walked in.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Here, come sit down.”
“Are they all right? Max, Sebastian?” She wrung her hands.
Andre took a seat in an armchair. “I won’t lie to you. They’re not the best they’ve ever been.”
“Where are they?” She perched on the arm of the sofa, dizzy now.
“They went down to the hospital to get checked out. I think they’re staying another night.”
Kitty leapt to her feet. “I’ll change clothes—it will only take a minute. Will you call down for the car?”
Andre reached for her hand and gently pulled her back down to the couch. “I think it might be better to wait, don’t you?”
“What do you mean? Are they not…?” She held the back of her hand to her mouth.
“No, nothing like that. They’re both awake, alert. Sebastian’s still a little fuzzy. He got knocked around good. But your pop sent the best doctor in town to look at them. They’ll be back to normal in no time.”
“Is Papa mad?”
“Not at you. He wanted me to wait up here for you to wake up, so you wouldn’t be alone. He’s downstairs working things out.”
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as the faces of the assailants popped into her mind. “And the other guys? What happened to those bastards?”
“You don’t have to worry about them.”
She shook her head. “I walloped one of them good. I’m sure that won’t be the last we hear from them. Oh, I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble for Papa.”