He looked at her sternly. “Yes, it’s getting late.”
“Everyone, this is my agent, Cotton McCann. Cotton, this is—”
“Yes. Enchanted.” His disinterest was evident. He pulled her to her feet. “But we really must be going, since we have such an early departure tomorrow morning.”
“We?” Moxie asked suspiciously.
“Yes, I’ll be joining you, and so will Ida.”
“You mean Irene?”
“The one I’ve been sitting with. Whoever she is.”
Moxie was confused. “When did you decide this?”
Cotton stared at Violet in what appeared to be a silent challenge. “Recently. It’s best for you to be surrounded by people who are looking out for your best interest.”
Wil polished off her drink. “Just a li’l tip from me to you, mister. I hear you should avoid shitting in the dining car.” She winked at him.
He seemed disgusted, but Moxie wasn’t sure if it was what Wil said or how she said it that generated his disdain. “Go get changed, Moxie.”
When Violet looked to Moxie to gauge her response, Moxie discreetly motioned back toward the stage. This either meant that Violet should venture backstage to meet her or that she had a neck disorder. Violet dropped her chin to show understanding.
“Okay, thanks again for coming out, everyone,” Moxie said before departing.
Violet studied this man, this Cotton McCann. She tried to suppress her anger, but that had never been her forte.
He was still trying to stare her down for some reason. “You’ll find I’m very protective of my clients, Miss London.”
It interested her that he knew her name without first being introduced. “That’s an admirable quality, unlike pomposity or antagonism, which are decidedly less so.”
His eyes narrowed. “You look like one of those Hollywood deviant types to me.”
“Looks can be so deceiving,” she replied with a calm that belied her emotions.
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely, because you look like a fat, manipulative, bombastic chiseler, but I’m sure you simply make a terrible first impression.”
Wil beamed. “I love it when she gets like this.”
“I can see why,” Julian replied. “Even I want to fuck her right now.”
A muscle in Cotton’s cheek began to spasm. “Look here, you cheap piece of Christmas trash—”
“No, Mr. McCann, stop right there.” Violet had now officially reached her breaking point. “I don’t know who you think you are or how you cultivated such an asinine and misguided sense of entitlement. You think you can just pull out your dick and swing it around like a hammer—”
“Nice metaphor,” Julian interjected.
“—and everyone will kowtow. But this Violet isn’t shrinking, if you get me, not by a long shot. So go flex your muscle for some meek tomato who’s too enraptured by the promise of stardom to care that you are a complete ballsack. And when you’re done with all that, jump up my ass.”
A look of incredulity washed over Cotton’s face, no doubt exacerbated by Wil, Julian, and Gary all spontaneously breaking into applause.
“Thanks,” Violet mumbled, picking up her dog. “Now, if my adoring public will excuse me, I need to take Clitty to the little terrier’s room.”
She walked off, headed toward the restrooms, and, feeling fairly certain that no one was looking, she ducked back toward the dressing rooms. There seemed to be only two rooms dedicated to the entertainment staff. One was empty, and the other had the door closed. Feeling lucky, she set Clitty down on the floor and knocked.
Before she even had a chance to pull her hand back completely, the door flew open to reveal Moxie, wearing a blue silk peignoir—implying to Violet that underneath, the dress was gone and who knew what she had on now. Moxie smiled and tugged her into the room by the hand. As Clitty followed, she checked the hallway suspiciously before shutting the door and locking it.
“Expecting G-men?” Violet asked.
“No, but I wasn’t expecting you either, and look what happened.” Moxie boldly closed the distance between them.
“I’m like a bad penny.” Violet tentatively reclaimed Moxie’s hand. “Where were we?”
Moxie’s tone took on a more seductive quality. “Let’s see. You had told me how sexy I was.”
“I had, yes.” Violet moved closer, and now their faces were only inches apart. “And you were saying you’d been thinking about that day we talked on the phone.”
“You were very naughty.”
“You seem to bring that out in me.”
“Why is that exactly?”
“Because I want you so much.”
“Oh, baby.” Moxie’s words were nearly a whisper, but they were all the invitation Violet needed, and she leaned forward and kissed her.
What started as gentle and hesitant rapidly became urgent and all-consuming. Moxie’s right hand moved to the nape of Violet’s neck, while the other one slid around her waist. Their tongues moved against each other as Violet reached beneath the blue silk, praying to God that Moxie really was naked under there. Almost as tantalizing, Moxie had stripped down to her underwear, and Violet’s finger brushed the satin of a stray garter belt.
When Moxie moaned, Violet thought she would explode from the sexual energy coursing through her. “God, you smell so good.”
“Twilight Moon,” Moxie murmured, her mouth beside Violet’s ear. “My perfume. You said that you liked it.”
“Know what else I like?” She nibbled on Moxie’s neck, and the sound of her ragged breathing told her that the enjoyment was mutual. Emboldened, she brushed her thumb over Moxie’s breast lightly through her brassiere and the nipple stiffened instantly.
“Mmm. I love how you touch me.”
“I haven’t even started yet.” Violet kissed her again, consumed with hunger.
A loud knock startled them both, and they separated.
“Moxie? It’s me, Cotton. Can I come in?”
Moxie looked panic-stricken. “Um…just a moment.” She readjusted her dressing gown, glanced in the mirror, and wiped off her smeared lipstick with her thumb.
Clitty, on the other hand, was completely confounded by the disembodied voice behind the door and pawed at it before letting out a staccato yip.
“What was that?” Cotton asked.
Clitty yipped again.
Violet bent down and picked him up to silence him.
“Hiccups,” Moxie called, wincing immediately at such a horrible lie.
“Can I come in yet? I need to talk to you.”
Moxie put her finger to her lips silently, then slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.
“Why are you out here not completely dressed? Let’s go back in the dressing room, for God’s sake.”
“You don’t want to go in there. I’d hate for you to see what the other girls have done. It’s a real mess. Lots of…period things everywhere.”
“Oh.” He appeared repulsed. “Look, I think I’ve gotten rid of that London woman for the evening.”
“You have?”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, falling in with a group of queers and boozehounds, but luckily for you, I was here to step in. You have a career to think of, after all.”
“I realize that, but—”
“Don’t ruin it before it even gets started. You were fantastic tonight. Better than I’ve ever seen you. You’re on your way up. Eileen said—”
“Irene.”
“—she thought that woman might even be on the train tomorrow.”
“She might.”
“Which is exactly why we’re coming along too. You need to focus on your screen test and think about your future. Now finish changing and meet me out front. I told Iris—”
“Irene.”
“—that I’d take you both home.”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes while she considered this predicament. “And if I asked you not to go to any
trouble?”
“I saw how that woman was pawing you. If I left you here, I wouldn’t get a bit of sleep tonight.”
“Neither would I,” she muttered in frustration.
“Exactly. I’ll see you out front. And get a wiggle on.”
She watched him walk away and tried to collect herself. “Shit.” She took a deep breath and reentered the dressing room, where Violet sat, her dog in her lap and her chin in her hand. “Did you hear any of that?”
“Not really. Something about periods and boozehounds. The rest was a bit muffled.”
“Just as well.”
Violet stood and deposited Clitty in the chair. “Why, oh why, is your agent such a bastard?” She let her hands rest on Moxie’s hips as she kissed her throat.
“He thinks he’s looking out for me.”
Violet continued tasting her neck and earlobe. “More like looking out for his vested interest in you.”
“Mmm…what?”
“I said come back to my hotel with me.”
Moxie’s head was spinning and her groin was tightening. She had never felt this kind of raw desire before, and it was debilitating. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Cotton’s driving Irene and me home. He’s waiting for me outside now.”
Violet’s tongue probed Moxie’s ear, and her whispered reply gave Moxie chills that vibrated throughout her body. “I’ll send a taxi to your place to get you after he drops you off. He’ll never know.”
She struggled to form words. “Except he’s also picking me up in the morning to take me to the train. God, your tongue is so…mmm.”
“This tongue can be yours for the rest of the night, and it takes requests.”
Moxie tried to snap out of the erotic fog that was wrapping around her and clouding her mind. “That’s a very attractive offer, to be sure. But I can’t tonight.”
“Moxie—”
“Shh.” She traced Violet’s lips lightly with her fingers. “Things are moving a little fast for me. In the last half hour I’ve discovered that you traveled across the country and were in the audience without telling me, that my agent doesn’t approve of you or anyone you know, that both he and my roommate are now coming along on my train trip to Hollywood—but only to keep me from you—and, most importantly, how very much I love your mouth. That’s quite a bit for me to absorb, wouldn’t you say?”
Violet nodded slowly.
“Then give me tonight to work through everything, okay? We have the next three days together and, after that, however long I’m in Hollywood.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you crazy.”
“You can’t help it,” Moxie joked. “It’s just something you do.”
“I guess I’ll go, then, and see you in the morning.” She kissed Moxie once more, this time softly and reverently. “Good night.”
Before Moxie could catch her breath and even consider replying, Violet and her dog were gone.
She sat down and rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm as she pondered the unexpected turns the evening had taken. As right as being with Violet felt, she couldn’t shake the fear that there was some truth to what Cotton had told her. He was an opportunist of epic proportions, that was certain. But he had also pulled her out of obscurity in that lousy Nebraska dive and pointed her toward success.
Maybe she did need to focus on her future and her career first.
But holy crap, Violet got her so hot. When she was with her, she couldn’t think about anything but the surging waves of arousal that Violet evoked, and how wet and tingly she felt. She wanted her so badly that she was amazed she had the resolve to send her away. Or was it fear?
She started to change her clothes, all the while wondering what the hell she would do when morning came.
Chapter Ten
“All right,” Cotton said authoritatively. “I’m going to go get tickets for Ivy—”
“Irene,” Moxie and Irene said in unison.
“—and me. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone. Just wait here until I get back. Got me?”
Moxie rolled her eyes, nodded, then took in all the activity in the bustling concourse of Grand Central Terminal. Even though she had been in New York City over seven months, the grandeur of the architecture and the size of the crowds awed her as much as they had the day she arrived.
She casually scanned the crowds for a glimpse of Violet. “I can’t believe you sold me out,” she muttered to Irene. “Coming along on this trip so you can spy on me for my agent.”
“I’m not spying. Mr. McCann says he only wants what’s best for you. And just last night, you said you didn’t know what you wanted.”
Moxie winced. Irene had a point. “It would be nice to be treated like an adult able to make her own decisions and not like some fat girl who can’t be left alone in a sweet shop because she might fondle all the fondant.” She wiggled her fingers.
Irene cocked an eyebrow. “Well, perhaps you would be treated like someone who could make her own decisions, if you’d make one.”
“Look, this is a little more complicated than deciding which shoes go with which bag.”
“Are you the shoes or the bag?”
Moxie glared in response until a tap on her shoulder prompted her to turn.
“Hey, tomato,” Violet said with a grin.
Moxie felt her face light up. “Hey, yourself. I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”
“I had a little problem getting Lady Chatterley here up and dressed this morning.” She motioned to a very weary-looking Wil. “It seems she and a certain waiter had an illicit encounter last night that has made her a little, shall we say, sleep-deprived.”
“A waiter from the Luna?” Moxie asked conspiratorially. “Which one?”
“The circumcised one,” Wil replied. “And let me go on record by saying that he has completely reformed my perception of Judaism.”
“So he made you see Moses?” Violet asked.
“That may very well be what happened, though we may have broken a commandment or two.”
“Well, if it was only two, that’s a slow night for you, sister,” Violet said.
“Holy cats.” Irene’s shock was evident.
“Oh, sorry. Wil, Violet, this is my roommate Irene.”
“You’re the spy?” Wil blurted.
“I’m not spying! I’m just here to help…and to get a free trip to Hollywood.” She looked at Wil and Violet. “I’m really not a bad person.” Her attention moved to the floor, where a little brown dog sat staring up at her attentively. “Is this Clitty?”
“His reputation precedes him, apparently,” Violet said. Irene knelt down to pet him, and Violet took the opportunity to share a smoldering look with Moxie. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks. You look hungry.”
The left corner of Violet’s mouth rose slightly, but her gaze stayed smoldering. “Yes, I was just imagining warm, moist flapjacks.”
Moxie surged with heat from this provocative playfulness. “The kind that are sticky and sweet?”
“Definitely that kind. So messy you have to lick your fingers when you’re done.”
Wil groaned. “Good Lord, all this pancake talk is making me horny. Can you two just fuck and get it over with?”
“Hotchy botchy!” Irene stood up quickly.
“What’s all this?” Cotton said, returning to the group with a sneer. “I thought I said not to talk to anyone.”
“Wil and Violet aren’t just anyone, ” Moxie replied in irritation.
“Yes,” he snapped. “They’re, in fact, the ones I wanted you to avoid.”
“But—”
“Come on.” He pulled her toward the train by her forearm. “This is precisely why I’m here. Let’s board now.”
Moxie turned and looked at Violet apologetically as she was briskly led away.
“Hey, wait for me,” Irene called. “It was nice meeting you,” she said awkwardly as she hurried after them.
“You know what that was?” Wil asked.
“What?”
“Douchebaggery, of the highest degree.”
“I would have to agree.”
“It looks like you might have to work a little for this one, sister.”
“Hmm, and you might have to help me.” She picked up her dog.
“Well, I do owe you. And you know I can’t tolerate douchebags.”
“You can’t cotton to Cotton?”
“Count me in, doll.”
Violet smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
*
Moxie was chagrined, though not at all surprised, that Cotton had made sure she and Irene were sharing a double bedroom. She had surmised that Irene would be her constant chaperone.
Nonetheless, the way she was being treated still bothered her. Sure, Cotton kept droning on about what was best for her career and how she’d thank him later. But she was still reconciling the astounding effect that Violet’s presence had on her and the novelty of this kind of powerful desire. It was rather comical that after years of singing songs about passion and longing, she had never felt what she had been crooning about, until now.
What had she felt with her old beaus? It didn’t remotely compare to this. Back then, she found it harder to say yes to them than no. She had to really concentrate to rebuff Violet’s advances and then almost immediately experienced a series of regrets that oscillated between hunger and misgiving.
She dutifully spent the first couple of hours of the trip in the communal drawing room that all four bedrooms in her railroad car shared. But after she realized she had read the same page of her book about sixteen times and still didn’t have a damn clue what it said, she sighed and stood.
“What?” Irene asked.
“I’m just jittery. I need to go for a walk.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Mr. McCann said we’re supposed to stay here.”
Moxie put her hands on her hips. “What did he promise you?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, girlie. What did Cotton offer you so you’d stick to me like glue?”
Irene’s face fell. “He said he’d get me a screen test when we got to Hollywood if I kept you and Violet apart.” The words spilled out as though the confession was a relief.
Seduction of Moxie Page 13