"I had an interview yesterday for a position with another typing pool, but I'm not sure if they'll call me back. I-uh-knocked over a mug of coffee, and it spilled everywhere on the lady's table. " Flora rolled her eyes and smiled gamely, but Macey could see the frustration in her gaze. "I'm such a klutz. "
"I'm shiver caught her by surprise.
"Well, considering the fact that I knocked the cup over before I even got to the typing test, and it spilled onto Miss Henworth's light pink skirt and stained it. . . I never even got to the test. "
Macey bit her lip. "Oh. That's not good at all. Do you have any other prospects? I keep looking at the job postings at the university to see if there's anything for you. I'm sure I could get Dr. Morgan to recommend you if we find a suitable one. "
"Thanks. But I think I'm going to try looking for something non-secretarial. Maybe I'll work in one of the garment factories. I'm going to head over to Ingram's first thing in the morning. And if they don't have anything, I'll go to Chestwick. "
Macey tried to keep her expression neutral. Working in the garment factories was tedious, low-paying work. Flora was much too smart and fun and lively to be hunching over a sewing machine at a long table with twenty other women, straining her eyes over tiny stitches day after day after day. "Oh, don't give up yet, Flo. I'll ask around. Maybe there are some jobs that haven't been posted. "
"I have to pay rent, Macey. Because I sure as shootin' don't want to move back home. As mean and crabby as my landlady is, she's better than living with my mother. " The musicians started a new song, and Flora stood abruptly. "It's the 'Tiger Rag. ' Come on, let's shimmy. "
Macey rose and adjusted her stockings, which were rolled down to just above her knee. Her shift-like dress was made of robin's egg blue satin, with beaded, flounced layers from the dropped waist to just above the knee. The dress hung loose and straight on her body, which made it easier to dance, and its skinny straps held it in place but left her shoulders and arms bare. She'd pinned a large red rose to the front of one strap, and she'd slipped another on a comb into her dark, curly hair.
She'd chosen to wear an older pair of shoes instead of the blister-inducing Mary Janes from yesterday and was glad she'd opted for comfort over fashion. Surprisingly enough, the blisters had healed overnight and were nearly gone, but she decided not to tempt fate if she was going to be dancing all night.
The dance floor was crowded with other flappers in their shift dresses, high heels, and bare legs and arms, mingling with men in spats and sleek suits. Macey recognized a good many of the regulars in the establishment, including some of their other friends. She waved across the space to Chelle and Dottie, who had found some young fellows with whom to dance. A few weeks ago, Macey met a nice one with a sweet smile and round glasses that steamed up endearingly when they did the Charleston. They'd danced twice and chatted for a while, but she hadn't seen David (she didn't get his last name) since. She was hoping he might appear, and so kept looking around the club to spot him.
As she shimmied, arms and legs flying, long necklaces bouncing, feet skimm image of your great-great-grandmother. "
By the time the fourth song ended, Macey was damp with perspiration and joyously out of breath. Her feet hurt, but she didn't care. She was glad she'd recently had her hair cut short in the new bob style that went just past her jaw, because it kept her cooler. It occurred to her the bespectacled David might not even recognize her if he did show up, since she'd had all of her hair cut off.
Ready for something cold and wet, Macey left the dance floor, giving Flora a little wave. As she made her way through the rows of tables crowded together, she felt someone watching her. It was like a cool breeze over the back of her neck, raising the fine hairs there in an insistent prickle.
With a little bump of her heart and a flutter in her belly, she changed direction, walking over to the long bar. Leaning against the counter, she looked casually around
the room as she ordered a strawberry lemonade.
She didn't see David's reddish-blond hair and was ready to return to the table when someone jostled her from behind.
"Looking for a vampire?" came a voice in her ear.
Macey's stomach flipped in surprise as her cheeks flamed with chagrin. She whirled to find Grady sitting on a bar stool behind her. "No," was her unimaginative retort as her brain scrambled to catch up to reality. Where had he come from? She'd been watching the entire place.
"Good. " His expression was sober, and now that he wasn't wearing a hat, she saw his hair was a rich sable brown. Cut short around the ears and neck, it was deliciously wavy and thick at the crown. He'd shaved since yesterday, but his fingers-which drummed impatiently on the bar-were still ink-stained.
Her cheeks had cooled by now, and Macey made a swift decision to sit on the stool next to Grady instead of going back to her table. She didn't want him to think he'd scared her away, especially since she'd fairly run off yesterday.
"Are you with the fuzz?" She leaned her elbows on the counter and looked at him. He had a solid, square jaw and elegant nose. His was a very good-looking face.
Grady's eyes, which had taken to scanning the room, settled back on her. There was a trace of impatience in them. "No, chickie, I told you-you've got nothing to worry about from me. If you're wanting to go through that mirrored door back there-the one that's not as much of a secret as Hownley-Joe thinks it is-and sample some of Capone's hooch, I won't be telling anyone. "
"That's not why I asked," she replied, refusing to allow him to annoy her. The man seemed to have a "And then. . . you hunt vampires. ", and 7Vp the size of the tragic Titanic on his shoulder, and something compelled her to find out why. "You seemed well-informed about Jennie Fallon, and you greeted that officer by name yesterday. I thought you might be a plainclothes detective or something like that. " She shrugged and noticed the way his attention followed her movement. She could feel his gaze sliding over her bare shoulders, and a warm tingle shivered through her belly.
"You do know what they say about the cat and curiosity, don't you, chickie?"
"Is that a threat?" she asked, keeping her voice light even as her heart started to pound a little harder. For the first time, she wondered if he knew so much about Jennie Fallon because he was involved. He could be a gangster. Or a rapist. Maybe she should go back to her table and forget she'd ever met Grady.
If you could call their interactions "meeting. "
Chapter TWO
He shook his head. "I'm not with the fuzz, lass. That was my uncle yesterday, if you must know. It seems as if you might be as inquisitive as I am, so I suppose I can't be faulting you for that. " His eyes met hers, and Macey felt her concerns ease. Possibly in part because of the lovely rhythm of his brogue and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "I'm a newshawk for the Tribune, so naturally I have an interest in news in the city. Good news or tragic news," he added ruefully. "Like Jennie Fallon. "
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about her," Macey confessed. That, along with three nights of dreams about vampires chasing her, had made her feel even more jumpy and nervous than when she heard machine guns in the distance.
"Can I get you something?" asked the bartender, approaching them for the first time.