Part 4 (1/2)

She jumped out of his way and straight into Ruby, the new waitress. aMy foot!a the brunette yelled, hopping up and down on one high-heeled shoe.

aSorry,a Lorraine mumbled. She noticed Rob across the room near the steps, lugging his ba.s.s case toward the stage.

Therea”getting the band set up! She knew that was on her to-do list.

She walked over and lifted one end of Robas ba.s.s. aHere you go,a she said.

Before theyad taken two steps, though, she became lost in her thoughts: What were Gloria and Jerome living on? Gloria had looked so excited when she got the job. As if she were thinking, Hooray, I finally have enough money to buy a can of tuna! Even after months of practically living on the street, Gloria hadnat lost that dippy charm she had. Always so hopeful. Always so nave.

That was when Lorraine forgot where she was going. She banged the end of the ba.s.s against a chair, then dropped it. The strings thrummed in deep alarm.

Rob stopped in his tracks. aDammit, Lorraine! What the h.e.l.l are you doing?a aDonat you dare swear at me!a Lorraine yelled back. People were staring. She needed to pull herself together. This was only the first time shead clapped eyes on Gloria since shead arrived in New York. She was going to have to see that perfect face of Gloriaas plenty more times before this mission was over.

aIam gonna go see how Vinnyas doing,a Lorraine announced. She cringed at the whispers filling the room as she climbed the steps.

Outside in the alley, Vinny was alone, presiding over a line of women and a few young men. A small table with a cash box, where he would place each guestas $2.50 cover charge, stood next to him.

It was a sweltering night. A few of the bobbed, fringe-covered young women waved feathered fans in front of their perfectly made-up faces. Lorraine didnat even look at the mena”that was how distracted she was.

aHi, Rainy Day,a Vinny said as Lorraine lit her cigarette. aWhat brings you out here?a aJust making sure everything is copacetic. Whatas the pa.s.sword tonight? Spifflicated?a Lorraine gasped as she noticed the smug grins that suddenly adorned many of the flappersa faces. She thought she had been whispering, but apparently that hadnat been the case.

Vinny groaned. aNot anymore, itas not. You think you can watch the door for a minute? Iave got to let aem all know weare changing it.a Vinny ducked inside.

aYou gonna let us in?a a girl with black hair asked with a smile. aWe know the pa.s.sword.a aShut up,a Lorraine snapped.

aOr what?a the girl asked in an annoying tone.

aIam not even going to deign to give you an answer,a Lorraine said, taking a drag of her cigarette and staring the girl down. aI eat girls like you for dinner. No, for breakfast! I could skin you and wear you as my fall coat!a The girl looked shocked and stepped away, turning and whispering to one of her friends.

aCome back here!a Lorraine shouted. The rest of the line was watching, but what did she care? aOpen up your purse.a The black-haired girl raised one thin eyebrow and was about to protest, but then her frienda”another girl around the same age, maybe seventeen or eighteena”pinched her and the girl opened the clasp of her purse.

aThatas more like it,a Raine said, spotting exactly what she was looking for. A flask. It shone as brightly as the dozens of pairs of earrings the flappers were wearing, brighter than all their necklaces and bracelets combined. She pawed it out and took a swig.

aHey, thatas mya”a aYour mouth is as big as the house I grew up in!a Lorraine said, swallowing the cheap vodka and burping. aAnd I grew up in a mansion. Here.a She pa.s.sed the flask back to the girl. aThanks.a aYou going to let us in now?a the girl asked, hopeful.

aNah,a Lorraine said. aWe donat allow outside hooch in our joint. Against house rules.a Vinny returned and gave Lorraineas hand a much-appreciated squeeze before she went back inside. She took out a cigarette and lit up as she walked downstairs.

Lorraine was glad to see that everyone was too busy to pay attention to her and her screwups. The band launched into a number, and people began filing downstairs behind her. She watched a group of girls dance the Breakaway together. They were a pretty buncha”a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette, all in dresses with exquisite, Egyptian-looking patterns. Their laughter mingled with the bandas upbeat piano and saxophone. Had she, Gloria, and Clara ever looked like that?

Clara. She sighed. Thinking of Clara also meant thinking of Marcus, and Lorraine tried to think of him as little as possible. Where was he now? Already in Manhattan? Lorraine knew now that she had been wrong to fall for an idiot like him in the first place. If she saw his swoony blue eyes at school in the fall, she had no idea what shead do. Vomit? Keel over? Slap him?

Cecil walked over and gave Lorraine a gla.s.s of ice water. She gratefully pressed the cool gla.s.s against her cheek.

aThe boss wants you to come talk to him at the bar,a he said.

Lorraine swallowed as she followed Cecil. A few days after shead started working at the Opera House, head told her a story about a waiter whoad mixed up orders a few years back. The boy had lost a hand, Cecil had said. He wouldnat tell her precisely how.

Lorraine slid onto a stool next to Puccini. When he turned to her, his cheeks were rounded into a jolly smile.

At first glance, Puccini looked almost as friendly as Vinny did when he wasnat performing his bouncer duties. Puccini was a short, overweight man wearing a fedora and an easy smile. But unlike Vinny, no matter what expression was on Puccinias face, his eyes remained empty black holes.

Puccini took off his hat and laid it on the bar, then pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his sweaty face and neck. His thin mustache left plenty of room on his face for his wide, creepy smile.

He pointed toward Lorraineas water gla.s.s. aI could use something like that myself,a he said. His voice was oddly pleasanta”almost musical. aVodka on the rocks, and another for the lady.a Puccini was the last man in the world Lorraine wanted to drink with, but she didnat dare say so. She held her gla.s.s of vodka to his. aWhat are we toasting?a aOur new songbird,a he said as their gla.s.ses clinked. aSpark told me you hired a real canary today.a He drank the vodka down in one gulp. aCanat wait to hear her sing. You know, thatas why they call me Puccinia”I love singing so much.a Lorraine blinked. aOh, I just thought that was your name.a He raised his bushy eyebrows. aGiacomo Puccini is one of the greatest artists who ever lived. Youave really never heard of him?a She shook her head, setting her mostly full gla.s.s back on the bar.

aWeare gonna have to teach you some culture, young lady,a he said. aWhat about Carlito? You hear anything about him lately? aCause I need to have a talk with him.a Puccini gripped her wrist tightly. aI might have to let him know that his little recruit is s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with my kitchen, busting up my bandas expensive instruments, and giving away my pa.s.swords. Is that what you want?a Getting in trouble with Puccinia”no, no, no, Lorraine did not want that. Puccini had only hired someone as young as Lorraine because he was an old friend of Ernesto Macharelli, Carlitoas father and the right-hand man to Al Capone. Puccini did not know about Carlito and Lorraineas plan regarding Gloria and Jerome. It was Lorraineas job to make sure things stayed that way. If Puccini found out about Tonyas murder, it would get back to Ernesto. And Carlito had made it clear to Lorraine that he wanted to keep his slipup from his father most of all.

Lorraine swallowed hard. aNo, Puccini. Itas not.a He gave that a moment to sink in, then showed off those yellowish teeth once again in what was almost a smile. aHow about you take the night off, dolla”clear your head a little?a He turned away, making it clear that Lorraine didnat have a choice in the matter.

It was only once she was a few blocks away that Lorraine released the breath she had been holding. She stopped walking for a minute, ignoring the annoyed huffs of anyone who had to move around her. She had messed things up today, all because of Gloria. How typical.

Puccini could have done much worse. As long as she cleaned up her act, he wouldnat punish her or tell Carlito about her mistakes.

And a night off wasnat exactly the worst punishment.

Once she reached Broadway, the sidewalk became crowded. Groups of young people waited for tables at chic cafs, while others puffed on cigarettes and talked loudly. In front of her was a group of men who couldnat stop talking about an upcoming game at the brand-new Yankee Stadium. Outside Webster Hall, women in gowns of every imaginable color and men in tuxedos stood around waiting for some sort of show. Everybody looked happy and fabulous and Lorraine hated them all.

Inside her fourth-floor apartment, she dumped her bag, shucked off her heels, and headed straight to her bedroom. She dropped her black dress to the floor, pulled on a short white nightgown, brushed her teeth, and washed off her makeup.

And then, not five minutes after arriving home, Lorraine crawled into her silver-framed bed. She pulled the silky bedspread over herself. The sun had barely even set, but she was ready for this day to be over.

As she reached for the lamp, her eyes caught on a flyer hanging on her wall.

Unlike the Gloria whoad come into the club desperate for a job, or the Gloria who had fled Chicago with her boyfriend the piano-playing killer, the Gloria on this flyer was a girl Lorraine knew.

She switched off the lamp, dropping the room into shadow.

But she could still see the flyer. A blinking light illuminated the words LOST GIRL. The light blinked again, and Gloriaas bright eyes glared at Lorraine in accusation.

Lorraine rolled away, buried her head in her pillow, and released the racking sobs that had been mounting in her chest all day. But the tears werenat just about today. They were about everything. She wished she could climb into that flyer so that she and Gloria could be the good girls theyad once been. Back before Lorraine had any idea what it was like to have a thug threaten her, back when she still thought she and Gloria would be friends their entire lives.

But her tears stopped suddenly when there was a loud, menacing knock at her door.

CLARA.

Clara was nervous.

She took a sip of her coffee and frowned. This shop wasnat the cla.s.siest of joints. A single old man was working behind a smudged counter. She couldnat fault her old roommates for choosing a cheap place, but this one was just a dump.

Leelee and Coco had been her very best friends. It was living with the girls in their tiny apartment on Bank Street that had taught Clara how to really let out her wild side. The two of them knew Clara better than anyone did, even Marcus.

So why was she so worried?

Clara had run into them a few days earlier. Shead been leaving the Brooklyn Museum, about to take a stroll in Prospect Park, when shead heard two female voices call her name.

Clara frozea”shead recognize those voices anywherea”and plastered a smile on her face. Leelee and Coco looked as fas.h.i.+onable as ever: Leelee in a tight pink sailor dress and Coco in an embroidered white dress with a floral design picked out in lace. Unlike Claraas, her roommatesa dark bobs were perfectly maintained. Leelee had a doll-like face and wide blue eyes, while Coco was all sharp angles and mystique.

aDarling!a the girls squealed simultaneously, kissing her on both cheeks.

Clara hugged them back, shocked but genuinely glad to see them.