79 Park Avenue (23 page)

He put his foot in the jamb of the door. "Look," he said positively, "the rent wasn't paid. I want my dough."

Mary looked down at his foot, then up at his face. "Yuh can't get it," she said. "Not imtil I go down to the bank and take it out."

He shook his head. "I've had those gags pulled before. You'll disappear an' I'll be out in the cold. I want it now."

"I haven't got it here," she said.

"You got it," he said, letting his gaze travel meaningly down her housecoat. "All you need."

She let a smile come to her hps. Understanding came to her in a hurry. "Okay," she said. "But I'll need a Uttle time to get ready. I gotta bathe an'—"

He reached a hand toward her. He felt the firm swell of her breast under the housecoat, then adroitly she slipped away from him.

She was still smiling. "Not now," she said. .

He looked at her. The guy was right. "Okay," he said magnanimously. "I'll give you an hour."

"Thanks," she said dryly.

"But don't fool aroimd," he said. *The cops down here are hell on rent-beaters. Especially when they're tourists."

She closed the door behind him and Ustened to his footsteps go down the corridor. For a moment she stood there, then went back to the table. She picked up her cup and tasted the coffee. It was cold.

Lighting another cigarette, she carried the coffee back to the stove and stood there, thoughtfully looking down at the pot while it was heating. Deep inside her she had always known what would happen. Sooner or later she would have to make up her mind.

When the coffee was hot, she carried it back to the table and sat down. If only she had some clothes in the place, she could get out. But even if she did, the landlord would call the cops. Joe had said the cops were getting hot. Maybe they would recognize her as part of the act. Then things would be even worse.

She sipped at the coffee and lit one cigarette from the end of the other. She smiled grimly to herself. It wasn't as if she had anything to lose. She was no virgin who had to protect this invisible barrier. Her stepfather had seen to that. And she knew how to take care of herself, too. That business would never happen again. That was another thing she had learned up at the school. There was nothing to worry about. Still, something had always held her back.

She closed her eyes almost wearily. They were always after that. Men were all the same. She knew it. She used to laugh at it. It had been a game to her then to see how far she could go with them and still get away. If only there were something inside her that could match their desires. Then maybe she could feel differently about it. Only when she was near Mike had she felt something stirring.

Strange that she should think of him now. It seemed as if he belonged to a completely different world. She wondered if it was the love she felt for him that had made it

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different. It must have been. She had never felt like that with anyone else.

She finished her second cup of coffee and looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes to go. She got up and rinsed out the cup and saucer. Slowly she dried them and put them neatly back on the shelf. She sat down again and looked at the. clock. Ten minutes. \

She lit anotlier cigarette and waited, staring up at the clock. She wished she could feel something inside her. Anything. Even fear. But she didn't even feel that. Only the cold certainty that this had been bound to happen, that it had only been a question of time.

She was still staring up at the clock when the knock came at the door. She got to her feet. "Come in," she called.

The door opened and the landlord stood there. He hesitated a moment, then entered the room and shut the door quickly behind him. His face ghstened with excitement. "Well?" he asked.

Her eyes looked at him levelly. Automatically she noted that he had shaved and put on a clean shirt. She half smiled to herself. "Well?" she answered. "Ready?" he asked, walking toward her. "Always ready," she answered automatically, her eyes still on his face.

His hands reached out for her and pulled her to him roughly. He kissed her. She could feel his teeth hard behind his lips. She didn't move. His hands moved swiftly and the soxmd of her clothing tearing came almost distantly to her. It was then that she pushed him away.

Regretfully she looked at the torn housecoat on the floor, then at herself. Now she had no clothes at all. She looked at him.

He was staring at her, his eyes white all around the edges. "My God," he was muttering. "My God!" He moved toward her.

She spun him toward the bedroom. Now it was all clear to her. It had taken a long time, but now she understood. It was for this life that she had been bom. Some girls were bom to be wives, some secretaries, some clerks, some actresses. But she had been bom to be a whore. That was why things had always gone as they had for her. That was what everyone else could see in her.

"In there," she said calmly, gesturing toward the door.

He came toward her again.

She shook her head slightly. "What's your hurry?" she asked. "I'm not mnnin' away."

He hesitated, then turned and walked into the bedroom, stripping off his shirt as he went. She picked up her torn housecoat and followed him into the room. She could see the faint matting of hair that covered his chest and shoulders.

She remembered Evelyn's line from the routine. It was always good for a wave of excitement from the audience. If she had been bom to be a whore, she was going to be the best there was. The words came to her lips as if she had been saying them all her life.

"How d'yuh want it? Straight or special?"

Chapter 9

SHE walked into the hotel lobby and chose a seat in a discreet out-of-the-way comer. Opening a copy of Vogue that she had carried with her, she glanced through it idly. Anyone looking at her would think her an attractive girl, young, sun-tanned, healthy, waiting for her boy friend. Which was just what she was doing—in a way.

A few minutes passed. Then a bellboy stopped in front of her. "Room three-eleven," he said in a low voice.

*Three-eleven," she repeated, a smile on her Ups.

He nodded. "'Right. He's waiting there now."

*'Thank you." She smiled, holding out her hand.

*'You're welcome, miss," the bellboy answered, taking the two bills from her. He walked away quickly.

Slowly she closed the magazine, glancing around the lobby as she stood up. It was normal. The house dick was looking the other way, the desk clerks were busy with check-ins, the other people in the lobby were all guests.

Satisfied with her quick check, she sauntered toward the elevators. She had nothing to worry about. Everyone was taken care of. Mac, the landlord of the rooming-house, had put her wise to that.

"Pick a place to operate from," he had said knowingly. "Then before you do anything, make sure that everybody who might be interested is paid off. They'll leave you alone then, even help you."

She nodded. "That makes sense."

He looked at her intently. "Just be careful you don't bring nobody here. I'm runnin' a straight joint. I'm not lookin' for no trouble."

"I'll get out, then, if you want," she said.

He thought for a minute. "No, wait. I got an idea. A friend of mine is bell captain at the Osiris. I'll talk to him. Maybe he can set you in right."

The Osiris was one of the new hotels on the beach. The bell captain had been more than willing to co-operate. There was always a caU for new girls. In Uttle more than a month she had made more money than she had ever seen in her Ufe, but by the time she was through paying off she kept only a small part of it.

She averaged four visits a day, as she called them. They were spread out among all the hotels that the bell captain had contacts in, so that she wouldn't become too conspicuous. At ten dollars a visit, it came to forty dollars a day. Thirty dollars went into the payoff.

She pressed the button and waited for the elevator. While she waited she took out another bill. The elevator-operator had to be tipped, too. A hand fell on her shoulder.

Involuntarily she jumped as she turned.

Gordon Paynter grinned at her. "I didn't mean to startle you. Miss Flood.'*

!

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She held her breath. "Mr. Paynter!"

**I was wondering what had happened to you," he said quickly. "You never came back to the beach."

"The act broke up that day," she said. "I was busy looking for soraethin' else."

"Come into the bar and have a drink with me," he said. "We'll bring each other up to date."

The elevator doors opened and the operator stuck his head out. "Up, please."

She looked up at Gordon. "I can't," she said. "I have an appointment."

"It can keep a few minutes," he said. "I've been looking all over town for you."

She smiled to herself. She was easy enough to find if you knew the right people. All he had to do was to check into the hotel and order a young blonde. "No, really," she said, "I got to see this man. It's about a job."

"I'll wait," Gordon said. "Will you be long?"

She thought for a moment. "Not long. Half-hour to an hour."

"I'll be in the bar," he said. "You'll be able to recognize me easy. I'll be draped over a martini."

"All right, Mr. Paynter," she said.

"You had already got around to Gordon," he said, smiling.

"Okay, Gordon," she said, going into the elevator. "I'll try not to be too long."

The door closed and the operator turned toward her. "Friend or customer?" he asked in a curious voice.

"Fourth floor, nosey," she said, holding the dollar out to him.

He took it, grinning. "Don't you give anybody discounts, Mary?"

She smiled at him as the elevator stopped. "Can't afford to. Operating-expenses are too high," The doors opened and she walked out.

"Maybe on your night off," he called after her.

"Save your money, bub," she flung back over her shoxilder. "I got no nights off."

She heard the door close as she walked down the corridor. At the door of room 311 she stopped and knocked gentiy.

A man's voice came muffled through the door. "Who is it?"

She spoke softly but strongly enough to be heard through the door. "Room service."

She looked at her watch as she came into the bar. Three quarters of an hour. She paused, waiting for her eyes to get used to the dimness. He was sitting in a booth at the back. He waved to her and got up as she walked toward him.

"Get the job?" he asked as he made room for her.

"In a way," she answered, sittmg down.

A waiter came to the table. "Another martini for me," Gordon said. "What about you?"

She looked at him. "Cassis and soda." '

"Vermouth cassis and soda," the waiter repeated.

"No vermouth," she corrected. "Just cassis and soda."

As the waiter walked away, Gordon said: "That's a strange drink.'*

She met his gaze. "That's the way I like it."

"You're a strange girl," he said, finishing the remainder of the drink before him.

She looked at him sharply. Maybe one of the bellboys had put him wise. She didn't speak.

"You never came back, never called. Nothing," he said. "If I hadn't happened to run into you, I might never have seen you again."

"Maybe you would have been better off," she said solemnly.

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

She looked straight at him. "I'm no bargain. Tm not the kind of a girl you ordinarily run around with."

His Ups parted in a smile. So she had heard about him. "What kind of girls are they?" he asked.

"Society an' stuff," she said. "You know what I mean.**

"And because you're a working girl I can't bother with you?" he said.

She didn't answer.

The smile left his Ups. ^'You're the real snob," he said. **It's not my fault I don't have to work. It could have happened to you. Nobody picks his parents."

She smiled suddenly. "It should have," she agreed. "I could think of worse things."

His hand reached for her hand across the table. "So could I." He smiled with her.

The waiter placed their drinks on the table. Gordon picked up his martini and held it toward her. "A toast,'* he said.

She picked up her drink. "To what?"

*To us," he said. "And to our dinner tonight. Tom*s been waiting a long time to roast a duck for you."

She hesitated.

"I won't take any refusal," he said quickly. "I'm taking you right out to the beach after this drink."

She took a deep breath. A feeling of disappointment ran through her. He was no different from the others. He wanted the same thing. "Okay," she said.

He still held his drink toward her. **Aiid to no more mysteries. I want to see a lot of you."

She nodded slowly.

*'Tom and I think that you're the prettiest giri in Miami Beach," he said. "I think we're both in love with you."

Slowly she put her glass down on the table. "Don't say that," she said. *'Don't say it even if you're joking. You don't have to."

Chapter 10

"coffee and brandy out on the terrace, Tom," Gordon said, pushing his chair back from the table.

Tom held Mary's chair while she got up. "It was great, Tom." She smiled. "I never ate so much in my life."

The old man grinned at her. "You sho' got a powerful appetite, miss. You eats like a puhson oughter."

"Thanks to you, Tom. Nobody can resist that food."

"Thank you, ma'am." He bowed, grinning.

Gordon held the door for her. She stepped out into the night. The sky was clear, and a soft, cooling breeze blew in from the ocean.

She took a deep breath. "This is like heaven;" she said.

He smiled. "It's not simple, but it's home."

She turned to him quickly. "You invite everybody to your home like this, Gordon?"

He was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, without knowing them? Really? For all you

know, I might be on the make for yuh. It could be nothing but trouble." Her face was serious.

He grinned. "That kind of trouble I like. Make me.'*

"I'm serious,^Gordon," she insisted. "You're a rich man and well known. Somebody could take advantage of you."