Part 17 (1/2)
Maisey shrugged. She wasn't sorry the date was broken. Flynn was mean to go out with. He just wouldn't keep his hands to himself.
She put on her coat. It was time for lunch and she was hungry. She nodded to MacGowan, the bouncer, as she went down the stairs.
”See you around nine, Mac,” she said. ”I'm going to nourish my curves.”
MacGowan grinned. He watched her hips swing down the stairs into the courtyard.
Maisey always went to the same place for lunch. It sold the best hamburgers in town and it wasn't far from the club.
Rocco knew this, and happening to be near the restaurant he decided to eat there himself. Maybe, if he talked right, he might get some information from the doll. She looked dumb enough, but maybe she might let drop something he could use against Ma.
On his way to the restaurant, he had spotted the Dodge edging its way through the heavy traffic and he was surprised to see Slim as well as Woppy and Flynn in the car. He wondered where they were going.
He found Maisey sitting at a corner table, carefully studying the menu.
”h.e.l.lo, beautiful,” he said. ”Mind if I buy you a lunch?”
Maisey looked up and smiled. She knew Rocco had once owned the Paradise Club. She was flattered he should pay her any attention.
”I won't fight against it,” she said. ”I'm always glad of company.”
Rocco pulled out a chair and sat down. His legs ached and his feet were sore. He had had a hard morning but at least now he was finished for the day.
He ordered the lunch special and a crab salad for Maisey.
”Well, baby, how's the club going?” he asked. ”Doing all right?”
”Sure,” Maisey said. ”I guess they must be coining money.” She sighed. ”I wish some of it came my way. I only get a lousy thirty bucks and tips and I have to provide my own uniform.”
”I should have thought you'd have got more than that. With the shape you have on, you could do better in a honky-tonk.”
Maisey looked indignant.
”I wouldn't be seen dead in one of those joints. I'll have you know I'm not that kind of a girl.”
”Pardon me, my mistake,” Rocco said.
The food came and for a while they ate in silence. From time to time Rocco glanced at the girl, trying to make up his mind how to proposition her. He decided regretfully the only thing she could be interested in was money.
When Maisey had finished, she sat back with a sigh of content.
”That was pretty nice. Thanks: you're nice.”
”I'm not so lousy,” Rocco said modestly. ”Say, baby, how would you like to make yourself thirty bucks?”
Maisey looked suspiciously at him.
”Doing what?”
He patted her hand.
”Not what you're thinking. It's strictly business. How's about you coming back to my apartment and discussing it with me?”
”No, thank you,” Maisey said firmly. ”I've heard that one before.”
Rocco pretended to be shocked.
”You've got me wrong, baby. I have an idea I want to talk over with you: an idea that could earn you another thirty bucks a week. But if it doesn't interest you...”
”Another thirty bucks a week?” Maisey sat up. ”What's wrong with talking about it right here and now?”
Rocco shook his head. He got to his feet.
”It's strictly confidential, but forget it. I'll find another baby who isn't so fussy as you.” He signaled for the check and paid from a big roll of bills which he let Maisey see. He put the roll back in his pocket, aware that Maisey was eyeing it greedily. ”Well, thanks for your company. Be seeing you.”
”Hey! Don't be in such a rush. Maybe I could change my mind. Where's your apartment anyway?”
”Just around the corner. Take us two minutes.”
Maisey hesitated, then she got to her feet.
”The risks we poor girls have to run for a little dough,” she said. ”Well, okay, but remember--no funny business.”
”The idea never entered my head,” Rocco lied.
He had a convenient little apartment on the third floor above a filling and garage station with a back entrance though a courtyard that was used as a parking lot.
Maisey was surprised to see how nicely the big sitting room-bedroom was arranged and kept. The furniture was of light oak. A few rugs made islands on the polished floor. The chairs were big and overstuffed. There was a vast divan capable of sleeping four people: five at a pinch.
Maisey stood gaping at the divan.
”That's pretty ambitious for a little guy like you, isn't it?” she asked as he helped her off with her coat. ”I'd have thought you would have got lost in that desert.”
”You'd be surprised what goes on in that bed,” Rocco said with a wink. ”Me--I like plenty of room to maneuver in.”
”I'll say you do,” Maisey said admiringly and giggled.
As she began to wander around the room, peering at his possessions, Rocco fixed two stiff drinks.
”Come and sit down, baby,” he said, ”I want to talk business to you.”
Maisey lowered herself into one of the big lounging chairs. It was so deep, her knees were higher than her head. As Rocco handed her the highball, he looked with interest at what he could see of her from where he was standing.
”Talk away,” Maisey said. ”I'm listening.”
Rocco waved his gla.s.s at her. Maisey drank half the whiskey in her gla.s.s, then blew out her cheeks.
”Say, this is strong enough to knock over a pregnant mule.”
”You think so?” Rocco said and patted her exposed knee. ”But then you're no pregnant mule.”