THE WRENCH
My Sweet Girl,
By the time you get this letter, you’ll be wrapped in my arms while you read it. That thought alone is enough to make me restless. I wish there was a way to speed up time. I just want to go from today, straight into next week. Things are going well at the theatre and I think about the things you said on the telephone every single day. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that gets me through. God, Bessie, I’ve never missed someone the way I miss you. Except maybe my parents. But that’s different, you know? I miss my parents every single day, it’s a void that will never be filled. But missing you is what I feel like Hell must be like. If I were to get struck down right now, then being struck down before ever getting to see your face again would be my own personal hell. I would be tormented for eternity. I would haunt you just to be with you. I would lay with you at night and walk with you by day. You would never be without me, Bessie, not ever for the rest of your life
Tay went off with a man today. We saw him two days ago when he approached Tay in the street and asked about his camera. He was gone almost all day and Ike nearly had a conniption fit, wondering if he would make it back in time, and the conniption only grew more threatening as we were approached at the theatre ourselves by a man named Harvey Goldstein. Tay should have been there for the conversation we had and, honestly, I’m not sure what his reaction will be when we tell him about it. Mr. Goldstein is a talent scout for another theatre here in the city and he’s seen our act every night since we’ve been here. He seems to think we have staying power. Staying power, Bessie! Isn’t that wonderful? He thinks we’re strong enough to headline in his theatre, one much more prominent than the one we’re in now.
But, oh, Bessie. If he really thinks we do have staying power, then we’ll be staying in the city. And what I wrote in the beginning of this letter may not ring true. I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t mean that you’re an afterthought. It’s just that Ike and I have been so out of our minds with excitement that this might actually be our big break again that it’s been difficult to think of anything else. I don’t want to lose you, sweet girl, I just might need to ask you for a little more time to get all this through my brain. I’ll telegram you after we’ve spoken with Tay. Please be happy for me, my love. Please be proud of me like you said you were on the telephone. I need you now more than ever.
I have to go for now. I love you more than you’ll ever know.
Yours forever,
Zac
“AGAIN WITH THAT guy?” Isaac asked as he peered across the sidewalk at his brother and a man they’d seen at least twice since first arriving at the theatre a few days prior.
“He was in the lobby last night, too,” Zac replied, puffing on a cigarette that he found himself indifferent to. Cigarettes had been a saving grace these past few days, as his nerves ran constantly rampant between the anticipation of going home soon and Taylor strapping himself to the wheel every night. He needed something a little more legal and a little more plentiful than liquor. He wished sometimes that the cigarettes were laced with something a little extra special, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And so, whenever he began to feel a little anxious, he fished around in his shirt pocket for a small stick of release.
The man in question had approached Taylor in the street on that first day, asking him about his camera. Then he appeared in the lobby of the theatre where Taylor had set up a table to sell autographed photographs. What had started out as a stand only to promote The Incredible Hansons ended up turning into a general stand for the entire show, selling copies of autographed photographs for every act and Taylor had become the spokesman. So far, his face had already shown up on the front page of the New York Times with his photographs, along with an article about the show, and ticket sales soared in almost an instant.
It felt like being on top in vaudeville all over again.
“Hey,” Isaac nudged Zac with his elbow, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Got another one of those?”
“Huh? Oh.” Fishing another cigarette from his shirt pocket, he handed it to his brother.
“Got a light?”
He tossed Isaac a book of matches and took another drag of his own smoke.
As they smoked, the eldest and the youngest shamelessly watched as their brother animatedly conversed with the man and his cane. Zac’s stomach rumbled and he shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. They were supposed to be on a lunch break and they were on their way from the theatre to eat when Taylor was stopped on the sidewalk.
The everyday hustle and bustle of the city had lost its charm at least a day ago. Zac found himself completely one-track minded with all of his tasks now, so as to get it all done in a timely fashion and to speed up time and get the week over with. Such tasks also involved lunch, the lack thereof causing Zac to grow impatient.
Before he could make an ass of himself and yell across the way at Taylor, however, Taylor left the man and bounded over to his brothers. “Listen, go ahead without me. I’m going to meet with Mr. Doherty. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Tay, who is this guy?” Isaac murmured.
Taylor was already turning to leave. “Tell you guys later. See you!”
While Isaac’s face glanced at Zac’s with concern, Zac was tired of pussyfooting around. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe. “I’m ready to eat,” he muttered.
Isaac couldn’t let it go, though. All through the walk to the restaurant, all through their lunch of soup and sandwiches, all through the walk back to the theatre, Isaac lamented over Taylor’s absence. There was no time to be wasted, Taylor shouldn’t be running around with strangers, could they do the act with only two people in case Taylor ended up flying the coop? Because, honestly, Taylor had been acting a little flighty since that man started hanging around, more so than Zac had during one of his tantrums. Tonight, Isaac declared, after the show, they would sit their brother down and get to the bottom of all these shenanigans of his.
Something told Zac that they should have used the stage door for entrance rather than going right through the lobby of the Manhattan Royale, as their arrival seemed to spark the movement of a mustard-yellow leisure suit on a tall, portly man. The blush cheeks under the brim of his hat balled up as his mouth turned up in a smile as he walked toward them. “Well, then,” his voice bellowed. “Two out of the three men I was hoping to see.”
Zac and Isaac glanced at each other warily. “One of us already ran off with a suit once today,” Zac replied, eying the man up and down. “What do you want with us?”
“Oh, just a moment of your time. Just to talk, nothing more.”
“Time isn’t something we have a terrible lot of,” Isaac said.
“Understandable. But if I may ask, how much can you really get done if a third of your act is missing?”
Zac sneered and he didn’t care how noticeable it was. The guy had a point. “Talk about what?”
“A business proposition…of sorts.”
Zac glanced at Isaac, who was now crossing his arms skeptically over his chest.
The man noted Isaac’s stance and nodded, reaching inside his suit jacket. “Allow me,” he said as he retrieved two business cards from it and dispersed them to the brothers. “Name’s Harvey Goldstein. I’m the talent manager over at the Mahoney.”
Now Zac’s eyes widened as he flipped the card over in his hand. The Mahoney Theatre of New York City was every act’s wildest dream. It was the ultimate goal for singers and acrobats and magicians alike. Even as rich and famous headliners in vaudeville, The Incredible Hansons couldn’t seem to get their foot in the door of the Mahoney. It was a regal, prestigious establishment known for only the city’s—and the country’s—most regarded and elite. Only classically-trained musical acts, ballet dancers, and elegant acrobatic acts made it to the Mahoney. And now the Mahoney was seeking out The Incredible Hansons. Didn’t that beat all?
Zac was floored.
He had been in the Mahoney once. Uninvited, of course. During a vaudeville run in the Big Apple, he had taken up with one of the dancers in the ballet company that had residency in the theatre at the time. The girl was wild and mischievous and for those few short weeks, Zac was smitten and he followed her wherever she led him. One night it led him into the Mahoney where she had opened the stage door to let him in during her production and he had made it with her behind some props backstage during intermission. As he was leaving, though, he managed to slip out from backstage and onto the floor in the main house and he’d never forget the way his neck ached from his inability to take his eyes off of his surroundings. The balconies above him were endless with boxes framed with red, velvet curtains, sitting below a cathedral-style ceiling painted softly with clouds and rosy-cheeked cherubs. Around him, rows and rows of chairs were made of the finest of red upholstery, matching the fine carpet underneath his feet. A look at the stage made him salivate as the grandeur of the waxed hard wood and the heavy, red curtain that matched the ones in the viewing boxes that framed it invited him, tantalizing and irresistible. The stage called his name and he felt himself nearly floating toward it until the realized his current situation and planted his feet firmly on the floor. The truth was, while he probably had more money than half the patrons in attendance of the night’s performance, he still looked like a common street urchin on the surface and decided that he’d better bolt before someone noticed that he looked out of place and thought to ask questions. And so he slipped out a side door and never looked back.
He hadn’t thought of the Mahoney Theatre in years.
“The Mahoney, huh?” Isaac asked, shaking Zac out of his thoughts. The eldest Hanson was examining the card for himself. “That place’s tastes are a little more…refined than an act like ours, don’t you think? I mean, that’s what you want to talk to us about, right? What else would you want us for?” Then he scoffed. “Unless you’re desperate for stagehands or something.”
For that, Zac couldn’t suppress his snort of amusement. That would be just his luck. ‘Hey, Bessie, guess what? We’re headlining a vaudeville reunion show and the biggest theatre in New York City wants to hire us—as stagehands. Aren’t you so proud of me?’ What a waste that would be.
For a second, Zac sighed inwardly and flipped the card between his finger. Ah, Bessie. Sweet, sweet Bessie. She would love the Mahoney. He’d love to take her to a show there. He made a mental note to make that happen in their future. Maybe for their honeymoon…
The man’s bellowing laughter brought Zac back to the present again. “Talented and humorous, I see. I like that. Of course I don’t need stagehands. I need an act. And I think yours is just the ticket.”
“Why does the Mahoney need an act?” Isaac asked.
As the question left Isaac’s lips, Zac already knew the answer and his heart sank as it had leapt with hope for a slight second. The reason the Mahoney needed an act was because it was 1933—and the country had yet to recover from the depression. Nobody was safe, not even the country’s finest, not even the city’s most heralded establishment. Nothing. In a nutshell, the Mahoney was suffering. It needed money and apparently they needed a new act to bring it in. The Incredible Hansons had been a last resort. A last resort to play in a theatre that was struggling to sell tickets and bring in revenue. Zac should have known.
“No.” The word left Zac’s mouth before he could even put coherent thought behind it. Isaac might fight him, but that was Zac’s decision. In fact, Zac would have preferred a moment with Isaac before telling Mr. Goldstein no, but he didn’t want to get caught in another Luna Park bankruptcy revival. Zac was tired of being the last resort. Being told one thing and ending up in a ten-in-one, playing in parks that were struggling to survive, headlining a string of acts and having to share a stage, all of it. Zac knew he was no better than anyone else, but everyone deserved not to be jerked around. Zac wouldn’t be jerked around anymore. This was their last opportunity to be something. Either they went on this tour and made it worth it or they turned around and went home. And so far, the tour had absolutely not worked out as planned. And, so, Zac told him no.
Naturally, Isaac’s eyes widened at his youngest brother. “I think we should at least hear what the man has to say.”
“Where’s Tay?” Zac deadpanned.
“We’ll fill him in later.”
“You want to talk business without Tay?”
“I don’t want to waste any more of this good man’s time,” Isaac glared at Zac, his words escaping through gritted teeth.
Mr. Goldstein’s smile remained plastered to his face. “No wasting of time here. I have all the time in the world, anything you need.”
Zac crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you have all the time in the world?”
“Zac!” Isaac hissed.
“No. I want to know. You and I both know that the Mahoney didn’t want us when we were famous and selling scores of tickets. Why are we all of a sudden good enough now? It’s a legitimate question.”
“He’s right,” Mr. Goldstein interjected. “It is a legitimate question. Perhaps we can sit somewhere and discuss the answer.”
Zac knew that Isaac was riding the fine line of impatience. Between the need to rehearse, Taylor’s disappearance, and the prospect of a new business deal, Isaac very well may have been losing his mind. Choosing not to poke the bear, Zac finally relented and turned it over to Isaac with a nod.
Isaac, in turn, nodded courteously at Mr. Goldstein. “I don’t see why we can’t afford a few precious minutes of time. Shall we?”
With that, Zac trudged behind with his hands jammed into his pockets.
Half an hour later, Zac was a little less skeptical. In fact, his heart rate had risen, his palms had become damp, and it was growing more and more difficult to leap from his chair and dance a jig right there in the middle of the Manhattan Royale lobby. As it turned out, the Mahoney Theatre was in no real danger at all in regards to the country’s depression. It was a simple matter of keeping up with the times. “All anyone’s ever doing anymore is singing and dancing,” Mr. Goldstein said with a wave. “Musical acts are a dime a dozen anymore, anyone can buy a ticket on any street corner in this city and see a little song and dance. What the Mahoney is looking for is a way to spice things up a little. Offer a change of scenery. And you young lads have been selling out tickets everywhere you go on this little tour of yours, I hear. You’re who the young people are paying to see. They love the shock and the awe and the surprise. It heats them up, gets their senses stirring. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you fellas that all young people want anymore is a little thrill, am I right or am I right?”
Zac could certainly relate to that. He might be getting up there in years at the age of twenty-six, but it was an absolute adrenaline rush every time he was in Bessie’s presence. It was as if he fed off of the fresh innocence of her youth. He felt like a schoolboy again every time he was around her. It was a feeling he wished to create over and over again. And if Mr. Goldstein thought that The Incredible Hansons’ act made people feel like that again, then who was Zac to deprive them of that undeniable rush? After all it was why they did what they did. It was what the art of entertainment was all about.
The proposal Mr. Goldstein presented to them sounded absolutely fool-proof. He offered them top billing at the Mahoney along with a weekly rate of three hundred dollars and ten percent of the ticket sales. As Mr. Goldstein rambled on and Isaac listened, Zac was quickly computing the math in his head. For a capacity of fifteen hundred, at ten percent of ticket sales, the brothers could come out with a combined average of nine hundred and seventy-five dollars per week. Divided up, they would each pocket just over three hundred dollars alone. Per week. That was thirteen-hundred dollars per month. That was fifteen thousand dollars per year. Per brother. That was more than Judge Harlow could ever dream of bringing in in a year’s time. That was…that was…
Zac thought he might faint. With that kind of money, Bessie wouldn’t even need college. Or, even better, if it really was her dream, Zac could afford to send her to the best colleges New York had to offer. She could teach art until her heart was content. The next Leonardo DaVinci would graduate from underneath her. She would sleep in the most extravagant linens, their children would eat from the finest of silver, he would give her the life her father could never dream of giving her. How would he feel then? There was no way that Judge Harlow could ever accuse Zac of not being able to provide for his daughter ever again. Why, with a gig like this, Bessie would never want or need for anything for the rest of her life. Zac could take care of her, be the husband that she deserved. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to jump from his chair and run straight to Tulsa to retrieve his true love and drag her back to the city with him. To their home. To the rest of their lives.
“There will be a trial run, of course,” Mr. Goldstein was saying. “There’s always a trial to see how well the production does before a full contract is signed. These probationary periods are merely formalities, however, if I didn’t believe your act was something special, I wouldn’t even be here right now. That’s how strongly I believe in you gentlemen.”
The breath slowly left Zac’s chest. A trial period. Probationary. Nothing set in stone. No guarantee of Bessie’s future. A gamble, more or less. The Mahoney wanted to gamble with the brothers. With their time. With Zac’s time away from Bessie. A prolonged period of time. And Zac was miserable enough as it was. Could he afford a probationary period? How much time would that leave him with Bessie before she went off to school? What if he couldn’t go home at all? Except that he would go home. He would go and he would get his girl just like he’d promised her. But when? After how long? Would Bessie resent him? Break up with him? Would she be angry?
With every thought and every question, Zac only grew more and more light-headed.
Before he could think about what he was doing, the whisper left his lips before he could stop it. “No.”
Both men fell silent and turned their heads his way. “No?” Isaac clarified. “Have you not heard any of this?”
Zac felt paralyzed as the two sets of expectant eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t breathe and he forgot how to form simple words. His skin felt cold, as if the blood had left his body completely. How could he get his concerns across? Would anyone even care about them?
Thankfully, he didn’t have to. After a moment, Isaac grew visibly concerned and he said hesitantly to Mr. Goldstein, “Sir, with all due respect, we’re missing a third of our act, like you pointed out earlier. We’re going to need some time to discuss this with each other before we reach our final decision. We’ll take all of your offers into consideration before we make our decision. You can be contacted at the telephone number on your card, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Goldstein replied. “I respect that completely. After all, this production you’re in now still has to finish out the week, that should be more than enough time for the three of you to talk and get back to me. But we’re anxious to get you on board, so don’t drag your feet for too long. Any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me, day or night.”
As the men stood and shook hands with each other in parting, Zac remained tight-lipped. He couldn’t speak for all the thoughts running through his head. Every single thought began and ended with Bessie and how much longer he would have to worry about how he would feed her and keep her warm at night. To hear Mr. Goldstein tell it, not long at all. But there was so much to take into consideration. Such as, when New York’s elite was attending a show at the Manhattan Royale, who was at the Mahoney Theatre? Was there really that much money hiding under the mattresses in New York City? Would Bessie even enjoy living there? At what point would he be able to escape to Tulsa to retrieve her? Would her father give him permission to marry her? How would he propose? How much did a ring cost? Was this all moving way too fast?
“Zac?” Isaac said softly as Mr. Goldstein disappeared out the door and onto the city street. “What’s going on with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost—or that you may vomit.”
Zac looked at his older brother in a daze. “Where’s Tay? We need to talk to Tay.”
BILLY CONNORS LAY in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d tossed and turned most of the night in light of recent events. Between his recent picnic with Bessie Harlow and the conversation he’d just had with Lawrence Baker the night before, Billy’s head swam in turmoil over morals and ethics…and he sure wouldn’t dare let any of his chums know it.
Bessie had called him out for being a bully. She had accused him to his face, said things to him that he was sure most of Tulsa felt but never dared vocalize. Bessie wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t cower when he came near, she didn’t bat her eyelashes when she looked at him. Sure, she didn’t hesitate to tell him what she thought of him, but she didn’t look down her nose at him or put him up on a pedestal, either. She treated him as her equal. And while it was common knowledge that men and women weren’t exactly equal, he couldn’t help but be secretly moved by the sentiment. It was rare that he felt like he was equal to someone. He didn’t exactly hate the feeling.
Then she had cried. Abundances of female emotion were generally foreign to Billy. The girls he dated never cried. They always seemed happy to go along with him…that was, until they found other boyfriends. Bessie had helped him realize that his past girlfriends had apparently never really thought to take him seriously. Was that all he was in a relationship, just someone a girl could have on her arm? Come to think of it, that was really all his relationships had amounted to—a little hand-holding, a few group dates, and a little hanky panky in the backseat of his car if he was lucky. And then the girls just…disappeared. Found other beaus, ones that made them smile and, sometimes, get married. Had none of them ever seen Billy as husband-material?
Was Billy husband-material?
Eventually, he was sure he would be. Maybe after he’d carried out his mission against Zac Hanson. Once Tulsa was rid of him, Billy knew he’d be able to rest much easier at night. An eye for an eye, Billy decided or, in this case, a rib for a rib. Or that’s how Billy would have liked to conduct it, anyway. His father, though, seemed to be under the impression that Bessie Harlow was the key to Zac’s undoing. Billy didn’t argue, but he found himself constantly wondering if taking Bessie out from under Zac’s nose would, indeed, run him out of town, or just drive him to commit cold-blooded murder with Billy’s blood on his hands. In turn, what was Billy really getting out of this?
But he was in too deep now. He couldn’t turn back.
Especially when Lawrence and his chums wanted to stand around and update each other on the plan’s progress, like they had last night. As Billy’s mind had raced, the voices could only be heard in the distance as they laughed and cut up and made fun of the fact that Bessie was so sheltered that she probably didn’t even know she was being pursued until she finally got pursued. And then the questions about what he would do with her after he’d succeeded began flowing in and the sickness only grew in Billy’s stomach.
He kept mulling over her assertion of him and he didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. Could it be that he truly wanted Bessie to like him? Sure, he needed her to eat out of his hand if he was going to win her over, but now he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with it being a mere act anymore. Damn him, he wondered if part of him actually…respected her. Did he really care what she thought of him? Hell, with Zac Hanson out of the way, he thought he had ample time to put his plan into play. He hadn’t intended on falling into his own trap, himself. Was that what was happening?
“Billy,” Lawrence had said, alerting Billy back to the present. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
“What?” Billy looked around at the group of expectant eyes that surrounded him. “Yeah,” he said distantly. “I’m fine. What about it?”
“I asked you what you planned to do with her once this was all over.”
The question nearly caused Billy to wrap his hands around Lawrence’s throat. Then he remembered where he was and who he was around. The truth was, he hadn’t really thought that far into it. So he glared into his chums’ eyes and he took a long drag of his cigarette. “You let me worry about that,” he said darkly. “Now, look, you’re probably gonna see some changes in me. Necessary changes, if you know what I mean. Not a single one of you will act surprised about it, you understand me?”
Bewildered eyes stared back at him, but only Lawrence spoke. “Billy, are you…you know, feeling stuff…for Bessie?”
Billy glared at his best friend harder than he ever had before. Since when was he so perceptive, anyway? The notion bothered Billy and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s really not a bad dame.”
“She’s the enemy!” Lawrence hissed. “She’s devoted to…him!”
“Isn’t the point to make it to where she’s not devoted to him?” Billy snapped back. “Keep up, Larry! Jesus!”
And now, the next morning, Billy lay in bed, letting it all swim around in his head.
He couldn’t be left alone to lay for long, though. Not if his mother had anything to do with it, and she did on a daily basis. So he went ahead and trudged out of bed before she could call him to breakfast and he sat there in silence as the two of them ate together, as was the norm.
It wasn’t often that he got to experience what it felt like to live in someone else’s shoes for a change, but he sure did that morning. After he’d bathed himself and dressed himself in tan trousers, a white shirt, and a brown vest, determined that he looked like the dashing gentlemen the ladies swooned over, and bound back down the stairs. As he rounded the staircase, his mother frowned at him, no doubt at his rolled-up cuffs and his— “Billy, dear, I do wish you’d wear a tie once in awhile. It makes you look so grown up.”
“I’m not going anywhere formal today. Besides, it’s hot as the dickens outside these days.”
His mother smiled coyly, causing Billy to narrow a wary eye at her. “Yes, but…what if you were to end up somewhere formal today? Or in the presence of a lady?”
“I’d planned to see what Larry was getting into today. I’m sure there won’t be ladies, seeing as he doesn’t have a girlfriend as of late…”
“Well, then, perhaps I’ll tell little miss Harlow that you have other things to do today…”
She turned to walk away and Billy grabbed at his mother’s elbow, perhaps a bit too aggressively, and spun her around. “Say that again?”
“Bessie Harlow has come to visit you. She’s waiting in the living room. But seeing as you have other plans—“
“No!” He snapped. Then he lowered his voice. “I mean, no. Um, that won’t be necessary, I can see to her.”
Then his mother lowered her own voice, her eyes darkening as they bore into her son’s. “Billy. I don’t know what’s going on here with the two of you suddenly spending so much time together lately. But you just keep in mind that she’s still got a beau out there in…God knows where. It hasn’t been the easiest summer for you when it comes to this girl, you know. You tread lightly with this one, do you hear me? Don’t you go breaking her heart and don’t you go getting your own heart broken.”
“Mother,” he replied, smiling sweetly at her. “Rest assured, I’m aware of all of this. Bessie and I are merely acquaintances, that’s all. In fact, we’ve been spending so much time together because she’s helping me win Sue Wilkerson. So, you see? No harm done to anyone.”
She blinked at him warily and then she nodded. “Well…all right, then.”
Smiling once more, he kissed her forehead and then bounded in the opposite direction of the family’s living room.
The Connors’ home didn’t look like the average farm house, despite the land it was built on. Not like the Harlows’ did, anyway. The living room, much like the rest of the house, was white and bright and filled with the most modern of art deco furniture. Chandeliers hung from the ceilings and an oversized oil-painted family portrait hung over the mantle of the white-painted brick fireplace. As Billy grew older, he grew more and more convinced that the “farm house” was nothing more than a sham, an excuse to build a house on multiple acres, mostly meant to outdo Judge Harlow. He knew his father well enough to know that the little bit of farming that did go on was just a formality.
It was the portrait, however, that Bessie had been admiring when Billy walked into the room.
She looked exquisite—exquisite?—in her pale pink day dress. The sleeves tapered off of her shoulders, her neckline plunging into a modest V, and it was covered in tiny red roses. The dress was delicate just like her. Did Zac Hanson appreciate dresses like this? Did he ever even notice?
Why the hell was Billy noticing?
He forgot about the dress when she turned her head and smiled at him, a warm, radiant smile that made his skin tingle. She was happy to see him. She’d come to his house and she was happy to see him. He reached up and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hi, Billy,” she greeted him brightly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Uh, no, I…I’m pleasantly surprised…”
“I bet none of us ever saw this happening, huh? Me coming to your house---at my own free will…”
Billy choked out a nervous laugh. “You got that right.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.”
“Actually, yeah. Dying, really.”
Her grin widened. “Well…I’ve been thinking and…well, really, all this talk about Sue Wilkerson is all well and good, but how can anything really be determined unless you actually speak to her yourself?”
His heart slammed against his ribcage. “You came here because of Sue Wilkerson?”
Her eyes darted back and forth into his, confused. “Of course. Why else?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he spat. “Maybe to see me.”
“Billy…”
“You know, because we’re friends,” he recovered quickly.
She blinked her eyes at him. “We’re…you consider me your friend?”
He smiled shyly. “Why, of course I do.”
“Even after all…even though I--?”
“I’ve grown a lot over the summer, Bessie. I can only hope for forgiveness—from the both of you.”
“Oh,” she nodded, her eyes darting around the floor below her. “Well, um, I think that, um, maybe in time…”
“Bessie,” he said quietly, stepping toward her. “Do you forgive me?”
She looked up at him. “You already know I do.”
“Then that’s all that matters right now.”
“So…” she began shyly, looking at him through her lashes. “You’ll go with me to see Sue?”
“Will that make you happy?”
“I thought the goal here was to make you happy?”
He shook his head and he smiled. “Fine. Okay, let’s go. I mean, what do I have to lose anyway, right?”
Giddy, she giggled and bounced on her toes. “That’s the spirit!”
With that, she nearly floated past him and out of the living room, making her way through the foyer. Billy’s shoulders slumped as he let out an exasperated breath. Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. He supposed it was coming eventually, he merely thought he’d have a little more time to prepare for it. But now he was on the spot. And he had to find a way to get himself off of the spot—and fast.
* * *
Billy strode behind Bessie as she happily stepped lightly on her feet along the dirt and gravel walkway. “Gee,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve never been to the treasurer’s house before. I had no idea it was such a long walk from the driveway to the house!”
It wasn’t. Billy had been dragged to dinner at the treasurer’s house by his parents so many times over the years that he could navigate the premises with his eyes closed. It was at one of these dinners that he’d gotten the notion to ask Sue Wilkerson to the town social purely based on the way her dress that night had wrapped around her delicate figure. He couldn’t say he especially liked her, what with her entitled attitude and her nose stuck in the air, but he knew she wouldn’t say no to him—for anything.
And then by the time he’d made up his mind to go through with it, his father was forcing him to take Bessie Harlow. It had turned out to be the worst night of his life. She was the bane of his existence.
Why, then, did his heart feel like it beat in tandem with every skip and step that she took?
He didn’t like who he was when he was in her presence. It was difficult to stick to his agenda when the girl was so…trusting of him. So disgustingly trusting. It was stomach-churning, her innocence, the way she so easily dug deep and uninvited and found the good in the absolute worst of people. Even now, with intentions as despicable as he knew his own to be, his blood flowed with unwarranted warmth. It was the kind of warmth that made cold men smile and monsters weak at the knees.
Zac Hanson, the dirty gypsy that he was, in no way deserved the pure light that she was.
And Billy did? He scoffed silently to himself. He didn’t deserve her any more than Zac did, that much he knew. But he wanted to. And there were moments lately such as these, as he walked with his hands shoved in his pockets watching her toes dance around pebbles, that made him want to repent for every sin he’d ever committed—against anyone.
Gee whiz, what would the fellas think of that?
He’d be the laughing stock of Tulsa, that’s what.
The thought caused him to straighten his spine and lift his chin defiantly. No. Billy was on a mission to rid Tulsa of Zac Hanson once and for all and Bessie Harlow was the key. The most important pawn. Nothing more.
As far as the walkway went, Bessie’s innocence—and blatant ignorance—was easy to play on. When she’d shown up at his house, he thought victory was finally his. When she informed him of her reason for her unannounced presence, he knew he was out of time. Damn him, was Sue Wilkerson really the best decoy he could have dreamed up?
The unnecessary walk up the walkway that they could have easily driven up, as intended, was Billy’s last-ditch effort to change Bessie’s mind about him. Unfortunately, the damned girl was extremely task-oriented and determined. Her eye went absolutely nowhere but on the prize. Now he kept his mind occupied with how to get himself gracefully out of the predicament he now found himself in.
As he lost himself in thought, he was barely aware of the activity just steps ahead of him. Bessie hummed softly as she walked, her steps so light and quiet that she seemed to float on air. His attention caught, however, when she snaked her body to the side and craned her neck. “I think I see the house!” Her voice rang out. “Just beyond those trees!”
Those trees, unfortunately, were just enough to throw Bessie off course and cause her to lose her footing. In a split second, her right foot flew out from underneath her and Billy managed to snap back to the present in time to catch her right before she hit the ground.
Closing the gap between them with two giant steps, he quickly clotheslined her waist, his elbow hooking around her, his other hand gripping the fragile circumference of her elbow as he pulled her up to help steady her. She looked up at him, shocked and bewildered from the experience and Billy, well…nobody had ever looked at him that way before. He’d never been…the hero.
Against the trees behind her, the hazel of her eyes struck his and he couldn’t make himself look away. She blinked at him as he held onto her, the both of them now upright and steady. After a moment of silence—well, silence for Bessie, as the pounding of Billy’s heart deafened his ears—she finally whispered, “Thank you.”
“Bessie,” he whispered back, his breathing quickening all of a sudden. He searched her face, his insides contorting uncomfortably in response to her closeness to him. “Bessie, I can’t…I can’t.”
Now it was her turn to search him. “You can’t what?”
“I can’t go through with this.”
He’d startled her. He could see it when her lashes fluttered. “You…you can’t go through with what?”
“With…with this. Today, I…what if she isn’t the one I want? What if I’ve changed my mind?”
Her body stiffened in his arms and it was then that he realized that she was much more intuitive than he thought she was. “Changed your…? Changed…I don’t—I don’t understand…”
“Bessie,” he whispered again. “Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?”
He could have sworn her feet faltered underneath her. Billy continued his hold on her, growing painfully aware of the way her petite frame pressed against his large one.
Suddenly the blood rushed quickly to her face and she shook her head. “No…”
“A man could lose himself in eyes like yours. He could lose himself…and never try to find his way back.”
The urge was surprisingly more natural than it was deceitful, but Billy didn’t have time to question it. Not when her pink, luscious lips fell into the slight part that begged to be kissed. Not when the breeze danced so perfectly around them, not when her body was beginning to melt in his arms. Was she giving in to him? Was she attracted to him? Or was this a rebound for her? Was she finally lonely enough to consider that her beau may never return after all?
Did any of that really matter?
“Bessie,” he whispered once more as his hand left her arm to remove a strand of hair that had blown into her eyes. And then…he went for it.
His lips hadn’t even reached hers when he began to feel resistance against his chest. Of course she would resist at first, girls always played that game. But the fireworks that would erupt once their lips met would make her putty in his arms in a matter of seconds. He could put up with a little resistance. In fact, he welcomed it.
That was, until the resistance was met with a strangled, “No.”
It was a word that halted him in his tracks.
Before he could reply, however, she was wriggling herself out of his arms. “No,” she repeated. And then louder, “No. Billy Connors, you are behaving quite inappropriately.”
As she separated herself a length of three or so steps from him, Billy’s jaw briefly dropped. What the hell was going on? She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it. It was written all over her face!
Now the only thing written on her face was undeniable horror.
He clenched his jaw and readied himself for war. Then he thought better of it and relaxed his face. This wasn’t over, yet. He still needed her.
Billy winced at the word. Need? Wasn’t there a better word for it?
“Bessie, I—I apologize, I—“
“I have a beau,” she said, her hazel eyes now hard as they bore into his. “I love him.”
“I know,” he replied solemnly. “I was inappropriate. Disrespectful—“
“Thank you for saving me from the fall, though. I appreciate it.” Her eyes peered guiltily down at her wringing hands.
“Bessie, I’m sorry. I am. But I’m not sorry that I said that you’re beautiful. I may have stepped over the line, but I’ll never be sorry for it.”
“Billy,” she replied with pleading eyes. She looked around uncomfortably. “Sue’s house is just right beyond those trees.”
Seriously? She was still going forward with this?
“Bessie,” he said firmly, his eyes planted purposefully onto hers. “I just told you I’m not going through with this—“
Her eyes widened in defiance. “And I just told you—“
“I know,” he interrupted coolly. “Believe me, I always know. You never miss an opportunity to remind me. Face the facts. He’s not coming back.”
She stepped back, her face that of a wounded animal. The expression tugged on his heartstrings for a moment, but mostly he’d had enough of the games. By the time they rang Sue Wilkerson’s doorbell, the damned blonde would surely fawn all over him and any chance he thought he might have with Bessie would fly right out the window. Bessie wouldn’t be able to let the possible love match go—and Billy had been over it a long time ago.
“He isn’t,” he confirmed again. “You can stand there in denial all you want to and yell it all over the city how you have this great and wonderful beau, but where is he, Bessie? He left you. He didn’t have to, but he did. He made the choice to leave you, don’t you understand that? If—if a man loved a woman as much as you say he loves you, would he really choose to leave her the way he left you? It took him no time at all to up and skip town, did it? Did it? He didn’t even take you into consideration as he packed his bags, did he?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but truth was truth. She had to understand it. She had to. “He did so,” she argued, her voice shaking. “He did think of me!”
“When?” Billy snapped darkly. “Before or after you begged him to stay?”
“How do—how do you--?”
“It doesn’t take a scientist to figure it out, Bessie. Of course you begged him to stay, didn’t you? I mean, surely you didn’t shove him into the car, did you?”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered.
“Maybe I am,” he conceded. “But what I’m not wrong about is the way it felt to hold you in my arms just now. And you felt it, too. I know you did.”
“I didn’t feel anything,” she trembled.
“You can’t hide it. I saw it all over your face. I saw your attraction. You wanted me to kiss you. You wanted it.”
“No,” she shook her head rapidly. “You’re wrong.”
Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head in question. “Are you sure about that? Because I’ve kissed a lot of girls and in my experience—“
“Stop it,” she whispered darkly.
“It’s okay if you’re lonely. I get it. And I get that you still love the gyp—the guy. Okay? But soon you’re going to have to face the facts; when he doesn’t come back and you find yourself alone and…and lost…you still have me. I know I’m not your favorite person, but I like you, Bessie. And I promise you, I’m not a bad guy. I’d treat you real good, I’d—why, I’m a changed man! I can see that now. I’m a changed man since I started spending time with you. Don’t you see how you’ve changed me?”
By this time, the girl’s jaw had dropped. Billy fought as hard as he could to keep the triumphant grin off of his face. Jesus, Connors, where the hell did you pull that from? Either way, it didn’t matter. The pride swelled in his chest and his fists balled up at his sides to suppress it.
Bessie’s nostrils flared, her face a shade of crimson. Her chest heaved with breath. Finally, she lurched forward and took his hand forcefully in hers. Billy’s heart flip-flopped so hard that it caused his veins to tingle with fire.
And then she turned on her heel and dragged him up the rest of the dirt drive.
This was not how he’d intended this to turn out.
“We are going to see Sue,” she spat through gritted teeth. “I’m going to introduce you and you’re going to fall head over heels and you’re going to forget all about these crazy delusions you’re having.”
“It’s not crazy—“
“Of course it is,” she huffed as she pulled him along. “If I tell Zac about this, he will be furious. You’ll have to go into hiding. You’ll have to leave town, he’ll be insane--“
Cutting her off, Billy dug his heels into the ground, causing Bessie’s body to halt with a jerk at the end of his arm. Seizing the opportunity, he flipped his wrist over, gripped her hand, and pulled her body against his in one swift motion. He slid his arms around her tiny waist and ignored the dainty fists that pressed against the hardness of his broad chest.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “I’m not doing this.”
Her body trembled and he could see the fear in her eyes. For one fleeting moment, the fear sank his heart. And then he remembered that he was someone to be feared. To be feared on the football field and someday in the courtroom…and right now by Zac Hanson. Most definitely by Zac Hanson.
This fear, though. She didn’t fear for her safety. She feared for her heart, for her state of mind, and Billy could smell it. And he intended to take advantage of it.
“And I told you,” she replied meekly, “that this is a delusion. I have a beau. I’m loyal to him. And you…you’re nervous because of Sue. You’re afraid she’ll reject you. You’re right, you are a changed man. Maybe because of me, I don’t know. But wasn’t that the point of all this anyway? To get Sue to like you?”
He searched her eyes for a moment, unwilling to reveal that she had stumped him with the point she made. Damn her, she just couldn’t be passed off as naïve much anymore, could she? The girl was just too smart for her own damned good—and maybe for Billy’s own good, too.
“I’m not delusional,” he argued firmly. “Isn’t a man allowed to change his mind? Or his feelings? Spending time with you has opened my eyes to a lot, Bessie. All I’m asking for is a chance. Don’t I deserve at least that much?”
“You’re asking for a chance with an unavailable woman.”
“Right now you’re looking pretty damned available to me.”
“Billy. Please.”
“We could start over,” he suggested. “We never really had a real chance, did we? And I was stupid then, I acted like a real jackass, I know I did. And I deserved what Zac gave me, but I just—I just keep asking myself over and over that if I’d been different, if I’d treated you better…would you still have run off with him?”
Bessie nodded. She didn’t even hesitate and it angered Billy. He felt his ears burn with the rage. “Yes.”
He took a chance anyway. Lifting his hand, he swept the backs of his fingers tenderly across her cheek and smiled gently as he watched the goose bumps form on her arm. She wasn’t out of the woods just yet.
“Billy,” she whispered. “This is completely inappropriate behavior. And if you ever want me to come near you again, I suggest that you stop all this. I’m becoming extremely uncomfortable.”
Okay. All right. Too far.
Billy loosened his arms from around her as she wriggled herself out of his grip. Then she turned on her heel and headed for her destination. Billy, on the other hand, wasn’t having it and he stood his ground. “Go ahead,” he called after her. “I’m not coming. Have yourselves a big time doing whatever it is that girls do. I’m out of here.”
He turned and started in the opposite direction when Bessie’s voice rang out like a bell. “Hi, Sue! It’s me, Bessie Harlow! And I’ve brought along a friend!”
Freezing, Billy turned around in time to catch Bessie’s hand waving high in the air and a flash of blonde as Sue approached. Shit! He was trapped for sure now.
Trapped for sure.
As Bessie bound between the trees and onto the main walkway, Sue’s head had already craned itself around Bessie. Arching an eyebrow, Sue looked him over. “Billy Connors is your friend?”
“Of course he is,” Bessie laughed breathlessly. “Our families have known each other for years.”
“Convenient,” Sue murmured. “And intriguing, at that.”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitched. Intriguing, she’d said. Was that so? Well, he supposed that if anyone would run their mouth around town about what they’d seen, it would be Sue. Maybe this little trip wasn’t for naught after all.
Sue Wilkerson was much more petite than Bessie, with eyes of blue crystal and hair as gold as the morning sun. She boasted just slightly more curves than Bessie and it was her looks alone that had compelled him to ask her to the social in the first place. However, he happened to know that underneath the innocent exterior she liked to pass off lay one of the most opinionated gossips that Tulsa possessed. Billy thought she suited him just fine as long as she kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, he’d watched her bat her eyelashes at him on numerous occasions and he knew that pulling the right strings with her would almost definitely work out in his favor. Now if she could go straight to town and spread the word about how Bessie Harlow and Billy Connors showed up on her doorstep together, that would be just dandy.
“I understand that this may look a little…strange, considering the circumstances,” Bessie admitted. “But something struck me not so long ago and I thought, ‘Billy and Sue should meet.’ And so here we are.”
Sue crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Bessie suspiciously. “Is that so? Because we’ve met.”
Billy swallowed hard.
Bessie blinked her eyes, clearly caught off guard. “Um, you—you have?”
“Of course we have. Our parents work together. He’s been over here with his parents plenty of times.”
At that, Bessie turned around and eyed Billy accusingly. He shrugged his shoulders. “I never said we’ve never met.”
“Say, what’s the gag?” Sue asked, tapping her foot.
“Look, Sue,” Bessie replied sheepishly, an attempt to save face. “I know you have a beau and all—“
“A what?” Sue asked incredulously. “I don’t have a beau. What on Earth would make you think a thing like that?”
“Uh…” Bessie looked to Billy again. “Well, Billy—“
“The Independence Day picnic,” he interjected. “I saw you—“
Suddenly, Sue threw her head back in laughter. “That wasn’t my beau. That was my cousin! Visiting for the week from Kansas with my aunt and uncle. And you two thought--?” She laughed harder. “What a riot!”
Well, this threw a brand new wrench into things, didn’t it? Billy was counting on the whole boyfriend thing to get in the way of Bessie’s pursuant of Sue for Billy. Sue was only supposed to be an excuse to get close to Bessie, nothing was actually supposed to come of it. But now…now what was he supposed to do?
Bessie had stars in her eyes all of a sudden. Her joy was almost annoyingly contagious. And now both Sue and Bessie stared at him expectantly. He let out a slow breath. What to do now? What to do…?
My Sweet Girl,
By the time you get this letter, you’ll be wrapped in my arms while you read it. That thought alone is enough to make me restless. I wish there was a way to speed up time. I just want to go from today, straight into next week. Things are going well at the theatre and I think about the things you said on the telephone every single day. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that gets me through. God, Bessie, I’ve never missed someone the way I miss you. Except maybe my parents. But that’s different, you know? I miss my parents every single day, it’s a void that will never be filled. But missing you is what I feel like Hell must be like. If I were to get struck down right now, then being struck down before ever getting to see your face again would be my own personal hell. I would be tormented for eternity. I would haunt you just to be with you. I would lay with you at night and walk with you by day. You would never be without me, Bessie, not ever for the rest of your life
Tay went off with a man today. We saw him two days ago when he approached Tay in the street and asked about his camera. He was gone almost all day and Ike nearly had a conniption fit, wondering if he would make it back in time, and the conniption only grew more threatening as we were approached at the theatre ourselves by a man named Harvey Goldstein. Tay should have been there for the conversation we had and, honestly, I’m not sure what his reaction will be when we tell him about it. Mr. Goldstein is a talent scout for another theatre here in the city and he’s seen our act every night since we’ve been here. He seems to think we have staying power. Staying power, Bessie! Isn’t that wonderful? He thinks we’re strong enough to headline in his theatre, one much more prominent than the one we’re in now.
But, oh, Bessie. If he really thinks we do have staying power, then we’ll be staying in the city. And what I wrote in the beginning of this letter may not ring true. I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t mean that you’re an afterthought. It’s just that Ike and I have been so out of our minds with excitement that this might actually be our big break again that it’s been difficult to think of anything else. I don’t want to lose you, sweet girl, I just might need to ask you for a little more time to get all this through my brain. I’ll telegram you after we’ve spoken with Tay. Please be happy for me, my love. Please be proud of me like you said you were on the telephone. I need you now more than ever.
I have to go for now. I love you more than you’ll ever know.
Yours forever,
Zac
“AGAIN WITH THAT guy?” Isaac asked as he peered across the sidewalk at his brother and a man they’d seen at least twice since first arriving at the theatre a few days prior.
“He was in the lobby last night, too,” Zac replied, puffing on a cigarette that he found himself indifferent to. Cigarettes had been a saving grace these past few days, as his nerves ran constantly rampant between the anticipation of going home soon and Taylor strapping himself to the wheel every night. He needed something a little more legal and a little more plentiful than liquor. He wished sometimes that the cigarettes were laced with something a little extra special, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And so, whenever he began to feel a little anxious, he fished around in his shirt pocket for a small stick of release.
The man in question had approached Taylor in the street on that first day, asking him about his camera. Then he appeared in the lobby of the theatre where Taylor had set up a table to sell autographed photographs. What had started out as a stand only to promote The Incredible Hansons ended up turning into a general stand for the entire show, selling copies of autographed photographs for every act and Taylor had become the spokesman. So far, his face had already shown up on the front page of the New York Times with his photographs, along with an article about the show, and ticket sales soared in almost an instant.
It felt like being on top in vaudeville all over again.
“Hey,” Isaac nudged Zac with his elbow, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Got another one of those?”
“Huh? Oh.” Fishing another cigarette from his shirt pocket, he handed it to his brother.
“Got a light?”
He tossed Isaac a book of matches and took another drag of his own smoke.
As they smoked, the eldest and the youngest shamelessly watched as their brother animatedly conversed with the man and his cane. Zac’s stomach rumbled and he shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. They were supposed to be on a lunch break and they were on their way from the theatre to eat when Taylor was stopped on the sidewalk.
The everyday hustle and bustle of the city had lost its charm at least a day ago. Zac found himself completely one-track minded with all of his tasks now, so as to get it all done in a timely fashion and to speed up time and get the week over with. Such tasks also involved lunch, the lack thereof causing Zac to grow impatient.
Before he could make an ass of himself and yell across the way at Taylor, however, Taylor left the man and bounded over to his brothers. “Listen, go ahead without me. I’m going to meet with Mr. Doherty. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Tay, who is this guy?” Isaac murmured.
Taylor was already turning to leave. “Tell you guys later. See you!”
While Isaac’s face glanced at Zac’s with concern, Zac was tired of pussyfooting around. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe. “I’m ready to eat,” he muttered.
Isaac couldn’t let it go, though. All through the walk to the restaurant, all through their lunch of soup and sandwiches, all through the walk back to the theatre, Isaac lamented over Taylor’s absence. There was no time to be wasted, Taylor shouldn’t be running around with strangers, could they do the act with only two people in case Taylor ended up flying the coop? Because, honestly, Taylor had been acting a little flighty since that man started hanging around, more so than Zac had during one of his tantrums. Tonight, Isaac declared, after the show, they would sit their brother down and get to the bottom of all these shenanigans of his.
Something told Zac that they should have used the stage door for entrance rather than going right through the lobby of the Manhattan Royale, as their arrival seemed to spark the movement of a mustard-yellow leisure suit on a tall, portly man. The blush cheeks under the brim of his hat balled up as his mouth turned up in a smile as he walked toward them. “Well, then,” his voice bellowed. “Two out of the three men I was hoping to see.”
Zac and Isaac glanced at each other warily. “One of us already ran off with a suit once today,” Zac replied, eying the man up and down. “What do you want with us?”
“Oh, just a moment of your time. Just to talk, nothing more.”
“Time isn’t something we have a terrible lot of,” Isaac said.
“Understandable. But if I may ask, how much can you really get done if a third of your act is missing?”
Zac sneered and he didn’t care how noticeable it was. The guy had a point. “Talk about what?”
“A business proposition…of sorts.”
Zac glanced at Isaac, who was now crossing his arms skeptically over his chest.
The man noted Isaac’s stance and nodded, reaching inside his suit jacket. “Allow me,” he said as he retrieved two business cards from it and dispersed them to the brothers. “Name’s Harvey Goldstein. I’m the talent manager over at the Mahoney.”
Now Zac’s eyes widened as he flipped the card over in his hand. The Mahoney Theatre of New York City was every act’s wildest dream. It was the ultimate goal for singers and acrobats and magicians alike. Even as rich and famous headliners in vaudeville, The Incredible Hansons couldn’t seem to get their foot in the door of the Mahoney. It was a regal, prestigious establishment known for only the city’s—and the country’s—most regarded and elite. Only classically-trained musical acts, ballet dancers, and elegant acrobatic acts made it to the Mahoney. And now the Mahoney was seeking out The Incredible Hansons. Didn’t that beat all?
Zac was floored.
He had been in the Mahoney once. Uninvited, of course. During a vaudeville run in the Big Apple, he had taken up with one of the dancers in the ballet company that had residency in the theatre at the time. The girl was wild and mischievous and for those few short weeks, Zac was smitten and he followed her wherever she led him. One night it led him into the Mahoney where she had opened the stage door to let him in during her production and he had made it with her behind some props backstage during intermission. As he was leaving, though, he managed to slip out from backstage and onto the floor in the main house and he’d never forget the way his neck ached from his inability to take his eyes off of his surroundings. The balconies above him were endless with boxes framed with red, velvet curtains, sitting below a cathedral-style ceiling painted softly with clouds and rosy-cheeked cherubs. Around him, rows and rows of chairs were made of the finest of red upholstery, matching the fine carpet underneath his feet. A look at the stage made him salivate as the grandeur of the waxed hard wood and the heavy, red curtain that matched the ones in the viewing boxes that framed it invited him, tantalizing and irresistible. The stage called his name and he felt himself nearly floating toward it until the realized his current situation and planted his feet firmly on the floor. The truth was, while he probably had more money than half the patrons in attendance of the night’s performance, he still looked like a common street urchin on the surface and decided that he’d better bolt before someone noticed that he looked out of place and thought to ask questions. And so he slipped out a side door and never looked back.
He hadn’t thought of the Mahoney Theatre in years.
“The Mahoney, huh?” Isaac asked, shaking Zac out of his thoughts. The eldest Hanson was examining the card for himself. “That place’s tastes are a little more…refined than an act like ours, don’t you think? I mean, that’s what you want to talk to us about, right? What else would you want us for?” Then he scoffed. “Unless you’re desperate for stagehands or something.”
For that, Zac couldn’t suppress his snort of amusement. That would be just his luck. ‘Hey, Bessie, guess what? We’re headlining a vaudeville reunion show and the biggest theatre in New York City wants to hire us—as stagehands. Aren’t you so proud of me?’ What a waste that would be.
For a second, Zac sighed inwardly and flipped the card between his finger. Ah, Bessie. Sweet, sweet Bessie. She would love the Mahoney. He’d love to take her to a show there. He made a mental note to make that happen in their future. Maybe for their honeymoon…
The man’s bellowing laughter brought Zac back to the present again. “Talented and humorous, I see. I like that. Of course I don’t need stagehands. I need an act. And I think yours is just the ticket.”
“Why does the Mahoney need an act?” Isaac asked.
As the question left Isaac’s lips, Zac already knew the answer and his heart sank as it had leapt with hope for a slight second. The reason the Mahoney needed an act was because it was 1933—and the country had yet to recover from the depression. Nobody was safe, not even the country’s finest, not even the city’s most heralded establishment. Nothing. In a nutshell, the Mahoney was suffering. It needed money and apparently they needed a new act to bring it in. The Incredible Hansons had been a last resort. A last resort to play in a theatre that was struggling to sell tickets and bring in revenue. Zac should have known.
“No.” The word left Zac’s mouth before he could even put coherent thought behind it. Isaac might fight him, but that was Zac’s decision. In fact, Zac would have preferred a moment with Isaac before telling Mr. Goldstein no, but he didn’t want to get caught in another Luna Park bankruptcy revival. Zac was tired of being the last resort. Being told one thing and ending up in a ten-in-one, playing in parks that were struggling to survive, headlining a string of acts and having to share a stage, all of it. Zac knew he was no better than anyone else, but everyone deserved not to be jerked around. Zac wouldn’t be jerked around anymore. This was their last opportunity to be something. Either they went on this tour and made it worth it or they turned around and went home. And so far, the tour had absolutely not worked out as planned. And, so, Zac told him no.
Naturally, Isaac’s eyes widened at his youngest brother. “I think we should at least hear what the man has to say.”
“Where’s Tay?” Zac deadpanned.
“We’ll fill him in later.”
“You want to talk business without Tay?”
“I don’t want to waste any more of this good man’s time,” Isaac glared at Zac, his words escaping through gritted teeth.
Mr. Goldstein’s smile remained plastered to his face. “No wasting of time here. I have all the time in the world, anything you need.”
Zac crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you have all the time in the world?”
“Zac!” Isaac hissed.
“No. I want to know. You and I both know that the Mahoney didn’t want us when we were famous and selling scores of tickets. Why are we all of a sudden good enough now? It’s a legitimate question.”
“He’s right,” Mr. Goldstein interjected. “It is a legitimate question. Perhaps we can sit somewhere and discuss the answer.”
Zac knew that Isaac was riding the fine line of impatience. Between the need to rehearse, Taylor’s disappearance, and the prospect of a new business deal, Isaac very well may have been losing his mind. Choosing not to poke the bear, Zac finally relented and turned it over to Isaac with a nod.
Isaac, in turn, nodded courteously at Mr. Goldstein. “I don’t see why we can’t afford a few precious minutes of time. Shall we?”
With that, Zac trudged behind with his hands jammed into his pockets.
Half an hour later, Zac was a little less skeptical. In fact, his heart rate had risen, his palms had become damp, and it was growing more and more difficult to leap from his chair and dance a jig right there in the middle of the Manhattan Royale lobby. As it turned out, the Mahoney Theatre was in no real danger at all in regards to the country’s depression. It was a simple matter of keeping up with the times. “All anyone’s ever doing anymore is singing and dancing,” Mr. Goldstein said with a wave. “Musical acts are a dime a dozen anymore, anyone can buy a ticket on any street corner in this city and see a little song and dance. What the Mahoney is looking for is a way to spice things up a little. Offer a change of scenery. And you young lads have been selling out tickets everywhere you go on this little tour of yours, I hear. You’re who the young people are paying to see. They love the shock and the awe and the surprise. It heats them up, gets their senses stirring. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you fellas that all young people want anymore is a little thrill, am I right or am I right?”
Zac could certainly relate to that. He might be getting up there in years at the age of twenty-six, but it was an absolute adrenaline rush every time he was in Bessie’s presence. It was as if he fed off of the fresh innocence of her youth. He felt like a schoolboy again every time he was around her. It was a feeling he wished to create over and over again. And if Mr. Goldstein thought that The Incredible Hansons’ act made people feel like that again, then who was Zac to deprive them of that undeniable rush? After all it was why they did what they did. It was what the art of entertainment was all about.
The proposal Mr. Goldstein presented to them sounded absolutely fool-proof. He offered them top billing at the Mahoney along with a weekly rate of three hundred dollars and ten percent of the ticket sales. As Mr. Goldstein rambled on and Isaac listened, Zac was quickly computing the math in his head. For a capacity of fifteen hundred, at ten percent of ticket sales, the brothers could come out with a combined average of nine hundred and seventy-five dollars per week. Divided up, they would each pocket just over three hundred dollars alone. Per week. That was thirteen-hundred dollars per month. That was fifteen thousand dollars per year. Per brother. That was more than Judge Harlow could ever dream of bringing in in a year’s time. That was…that was…
Zac thought he might faint. With that kind of money, Bessie wouldn’t even need college. Or, even better, if it really was her dream, Zac could afford to send her to the best colleges New York had to offer. She could teach art until her heart was content. The next Leonardo DaVinci would graduate from underneath her. She would sleep in the most extravagant linens, their children would eat from the finest of silver, he would give her the life her father could never dream of giving her. How would he feel then? There was no way that Judge Harlow could ever accuse Zac of not being able to provide for his daughter ever again. Why, with a gig like this, Bessie would never want or need for anything for the rest of her life. Zac could take care of her, be the husband that she deserved. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to jump from his chair and run straight to Tulsa to retrieve his true love and drag her back to the city with him. To their home. To the rest of their lives.
“There will be a trial run, of course,” Mr. Goldstein was saying. “There’s always a trial to see how well the production does before a full contract is signed. These probationary periods are merely formalities, however, if I didn’t believe your act was something special, I wouldn’t even be here right now. That’s how strongly I believe in you gentlemen.”
The breath slowly left Zac’s chest. A trial period. Probationary. Nothing set in stone. No guarantee of Bessie’s future. A gamble, more or less. The Mahoney wanted to gamble with the brothers. With their time. With Zac’s time away from Bessie. A prolonged period of time. And Zac was miserable enough as it was. Could he afford a probationary period? How much time would that leave him with Bessie before she went off to school? What if he couldn’t go home at all? Except that he would go home. He would go and he would get his girl just like he’d promised her. But when? After how long? Would Bessie resent him? Break up with him? Would she be angry?
With every thought and every question, Zac only grew more and more light-headed.
Before he could think about what he was doing, the whisper left his lips before he could stop it. “No.”
Both men fell silent and turned their heads his way. “No?” Isaac clarified. “Have you not heard any of this?”
Zac felt paralyzed as the two sets of expectant eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t breathe and he forgot how to form simple words. His skin felt cold, as if the blood had left his body completely. How could he get his concerns across? Would anyone even care about them?
Thankfully, he didn’t have to. After a moment, Isaac grew visibly concerned and he said hesitantly to Mr. Goldstein, “Sir, with all due respect, we’re missing a third of our act, like you pointed out earlier. We’re going to need some time to discuss this with each other before we reach our final decision. We’ll take all of your offers into consideration before we make our decision. You can be contacted at the telephone number on your card, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Goldstein replied. “I respect that completely. After all, this production you’re in now still has to finish out the week, that should be more than enough time for the three of you to talk and get back to me. But we’re anxious to get you on board, so don’t drag your feet for too long. Any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me, day or night.”
As the men stood and shook hands with each other in parting, Zac remained tight-lipped. He couldn’t speak for all the thoughts running through his head. Every single thought began and ended with Bessie and how much longer he would have to worry about how he would feed her and keep her warm at night. To hear Mr. Goldstein tell it, not long at all. But there was so much to take into consideration. Such as, when New York’s elite was attending a show at the Manhattan Royale, who was at the Mahoney Theatre? Was there really that much money hiding under the mattresses in New York City? Would Bessie even enjoy living there? At what point would he be able to escape to Tulsa to retrieve her? Would her father give him permission to marry her? How would he propose? How much did a ring cost? Was this all moving way too fast?
“Zac?” Isaac said softly as Mr. Goldstein disappeared out the door and onto the city street. “What’s going on with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost—or that you may vomit.”
Zac looked at his older brother in a daze. “Where’s Tay? We need to talk to Tay.”
BILLY CONNORS LAY in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d tossed and turned most of the night in light of recent events. Between his recent picnic with Bessie Harlow and the conversation he’d just had with Lawrence Baker the night before, Billy’s head swam in turmoil over morals and ethics…and he sure wouldn’t dare let any of his chums know it.
Bessie had called him out for being a bully. She had accused him to his face, said things to him that he was sure most of Tulsa felt but never dared vocalize. Bessie wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t cower when he came near, she didn’t bat her eyelashes when she looked at him. Sure, she didn’t hesitate to tell him what she thought of him, but she didn’t look down her nose at him or put him up on a pedestal, either. She treated him as her equal. And while it was common knowledge that men and women weren’t exactly equal, he couldn’t help but be secretly moved by the sentiment. It was rare that he felt like he was equal to someone. He didn’t exactly hate the feeling.
Then she had cried. Abundances of female emotion were generally foreign to Billy. The girls he dated never cried. They always seemed happy to go along with him…that was, until they found other boyfriends. Bessie had helped him realize that his past girlfriends had apparently never really thought to take him seriously. Was that all he was in a relationship, just someone a girl could have on her arm? Come to think of it, that was really all his relationships had amounted to—a little hand-holding, a few group dates, and a little hanky panky in the backseat of his car if he was lucky. And then the girls just…disappeared. Found other beaus, ones that made them smile and, sometimes, get married. Had none of them ever seen Billy as husband-material?
Was Billy husband-material?
Eventually, he was sure he would be. Maybe after he’d carried out his mission against Zac Hanson. Once Tulsa was rid of him, Billy knew he’d be able to rest much easier at night. An eye for an eye, Billy decided or, in this case, a rib for a rib. Or that’s how Billy would have liked to conduct it, anyway. His father, though, seemed to be under the impression that Bessie Harlow was the key to Zac’s undoing. Billy didn’t argue, but he found himself constantly wondering if taking Bessie out from under Zac’s nose would, indeed, run him out of town, or just drive him to commit cold-blooded murder with Billy’s blood on his hands. In turn, what was Billy really getting out of this?
But he was in too deep now. He couldn’t turn back.
Especially when Lawrence and his chums wanted to stand around and update each other on the plan’s progress, like they had last night. As Billy’s mind had raced, the voices could only be heard in the distance as they laughed and cut up and made fun of the fact that Bessie was so sheltered that she probably didn’t even know she was being pursued until she finally got pursued. And then the questions about what he would do with her after he’d succeeded began flowing in and the sickness only grew in Billy’s stomach.
He kept mulling over her assertion of him and he didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. Could it be that he truly wanted Bessie to like him? Sure, he needed her to eat out of his hand if he was going to win her over, but now he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with it being a mere act anymore. Damn him, he wondered if part of him actually…respected her. Did he really care what she thought of him? Hell, with Zac Hanson out of the way, he thought he had ample time to put his plan into play. He hadn’t intended on falling into his own trap, himself. Was that what was happening?
“Billy,” Lawrence had said, alerting Billy back to the present. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
“What?” Billy looked around at the group of expectant eyes that surrounded him. “Yeah,” he said distantly. “I’m fine. What about it?”
“I asked you what you planned to do with her once this was all over.”
The question nearly caused Billy to wrap his hands around Lawrence’s throat. Then he remembered where he was and who he was around. The truth was, he hadn’t really thought that far into it. So he glared into his chums’ eyes and he took a long drag of his cigarette. “You let me worry about that,” he said darkly. “Now, look, you’re probably gonna see some changes in me. Necessary changes, if you know what I mean. Not a single one of you will act surprised about it, you understand me?”
Bewildered eyes stared back at him, but only Lawrence spoke. “Billy, are you…you know, feeling stuff…for Bessie?”
Billy glared at his best friend harder than he ever had before. Since when was he so perceptive, anyway? The notion bothered Billy and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s really not a bad dame.”
“She’s the enemy!” Lawrence hissed. “She’s devoted to…him!”
“Isn’t the point to make it to where she’s not devoted to him?” Billy snapped back. “Keep up, Larry! Jesus!”
And now, the next morning, Billy lay in bed, letting it all swim around in his head.
He couldn’t be left alone to lay for long, though. Not if his mother had anything to do with it, and she did on a daily basis. So he went ahead and trudged out of bed before she could call him to breakfast and he sat there in silence as the two of them ate together, as was the norm.
It wasn’t often that he got to experience what it felt like to live in someone else’s shoes for a change, but he sure did that morning. After he’d bathed himself and dressed himself in tan trousers, a white shirt, and a brown vest, determined that he looked like the dashing gentlemen the ladies swooned over, and bound back down the stairs. As he rounded the staircase, his mother frowned at him, no doubt at his rolled-up cuffs and his— “Billy, dear, I do wish you’d wear a tie once in awhile. It makes you look so grown up.”
“I’m not going anywhere formal today. Besides, it’s hot as the dickens outside these days.”
His mother smiled coyly, causing Billy to narrow a wary eye at her. “Yes, but…what if you were to end up somewhere formal today? Or in the presence of a lady?”
“I’d planned to see what Larry was getting into today. I’m sure there won’t be ladies, seeing as he doesn’t have a girlfriend as of late…”
“Well, then, perhaps I’ll tell little miss Harlow that you have other things to do today…”
She turned to walk away and Billy grabbed at his mother’s elbow, perhaps a bit too aggressively, and spun her around. “Say that again?”
“Bessie Harlow has come to visit you. She’s waiting in the living room. But seeing as you have other plans—“
“No!” He snapped. Then he lowered his voice. “I mean, no. Um, that won’t be necessary, I can see to her.”
Then his mother lowered her own voice, her eyes darkening as they bore into her son’s. “Billy. I don’t know what’s going on here with the two of you suddenly spending so much time together lately. But you just keep in mind that she’s still got a beau out there in…God knows where. It hasn’t been the easiest summer for you when it comes to this girl, you know. You tread lightly with this one, do you hear me? Don’t you go breaking her heart and don’t you go getting your own heart broken.”
“Mother,” he replied, smiling sweetly at her. “Rest assured, I’m aware of all of this. Bessie and I are merely acquaintances, that’s all. In fact, we’ve been spending so much time together because she’s helping me win Sue Wilkerson. So, you see? No harm done to anyone.”
She blinked at him warily and then she nodded. “Well…all right, then.”
Smiling once more, he kissed her forehead and then bounded in the opposite direction of the family’s living room.
The Connors’ home didn’t look like the average farm house, despite the land it was built on. Not like the Harlows’ did, anyway. The living room, much like the rest of the house, was white and bright and filled with the most modern of art deco furniture. Chandeliers hung from the ceilings and an oversized oil-painted family portrait hung over the mantle of the white-painted brick fireplace. As Billy grew older, he grew more and more convinced that the “farm house” was nothing more than a sham, an excuse to build a house on multiple acres, mostly meant to outdo Judge Harlow. He knew his father well enough to know that the little bit of farming that did go on was just a formality.
It was the portrait, however, that Bessie had been admiring when Billy walked into the room.
She looked exquisite—exquisite?—in her pale pink day dress. The sleeves tapered off of her shoulders, her neckline plunging into a modest V, and it was covered in tiny red roses. The dress was delicate just like her. Did Zac Hanson appreciate dresses like this? Did he ever even notice?
Why the hell was Billy noticing?
He forgot about the dress when she turned her head and smiled at him, a warm, radiant smile that made his skin tingle. She was happy to see him. She’d come to his house and she was happy to see him. He reached up and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hi, Billy,” she greeted him brightly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Uh, no, I…I’m pleasantly surprised…”
“I bet none of us ever saw this happening, huh? Me coming to your house---at my own free will…”
Billy choked out a nervous laugh. “You got that right.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.”
“Actually, yeah. Dying, really.”
Her grin widened. “Well…I’ve been thinking and…well, really, all this talk about Sue Wilkerson is all well and good, but how can anything really be determined unless you actually speak to her yourself?”
His heart slammed against his ribcage. “You came here because of Sue Wilkerson?”
Her eyes darted back and forth into his, confused. “Of course. Why else?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he spat. “Maybe to see me.”
“Billy…”
“You know, because we’re friends,” he recovered quickly.
She blinked her eyes at him. “We’re…you consider me your friend?”
He smiled shyly. “Why, of course I do.”
“Even after all…even though I--?”
“I’ve grown a lot over the summer, Bessie. I can only hope for forgiveness—from the both of you.”
“Oh,” she nodded, her eyes darting around the floor below her. “Well, um, I think that, um, maybe in time…”
“Bessie,” he said quietly, stepping toward her. “Do you forgive me?”
She looked up at him. “You already know I do.”
“Then that’s all that matters right now.”
“So…” she began shyly, looking at him through her lashes. “You’ll go with me to see Sue?”
“Will that make you happy?”
“I thought the goal here was to make you happy?”
He shook his head and he smiled. “Fine. Okay, let’s go. I mean, what do I have to lose anyway, right?”
Giddy, she giggled and bounced on her toes. “That’s the spirit!”
With that, she nearly floated past him and out of the living room, making her way through the foyer. Billy’s shoulders slumped as he let out an exasperated breath. Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. He supposed it was coming eventually, he merely thought he’d have a little more time to prepare for it. But now he was on the spot. And he had to find a way to get himself off of the spot—and fast.
* * *
Billy strode behind Bessie as she happily stepped lightly on her feet along the dirt and gravel walkway. “Gee,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve never been to the treasurer’s house before. I had no idea it was such a long walk from the driveway to the house!”
It wasn’t. Billy had been dragged to dinner at the treasurer’s house by his parents so many times over the years that he could navigate the premises with his eyes closed. It was at one of these dinners that he’d gotten the notion to ask Sue Wilkerson to the town social purely based on the way her dress that night had wrapped around her delicate figure. He couldn’t say he especially liked her, what with her entitled attitude and her nose stuck in the air, but he knew she wouldn’t say no to him—for anything.
And then by the time he’d made up his mind to go through with it, his father was forcing him to take Bessie Harlow. It had turned out to be the worst night of his life. She was the bane of his existence.
Why, then, did his heart feel like it beat in tandem with every skip and step that she took?
He didn’t like who he was when he was in her presence. It was difficult to stick to his agenda when the girl was so…trusting of him. So disgustingly trusting. It was stomach-churning, her innocence, the way she so easily dug deep and uninvited and found the good in the absolute worst of people. Even now, with intentions as despicable as he knew his own to be, his blood flowed with unwarranted warmth. It was the kind of warmth that made cold men smile and monsters weak at the knees.
Zac Hanson, the dirty gypsy that he was, in no way deserved the pure light that she was.
And Billy did? He scoffed silently to himself. He didn’t deserve her any more than Zac did, that much he knew. But he wanted to. And there were moments lately such as these, as he walked with his hands shoved in his pockets watching her toes dance around pebbles, that made him want to repent for every sin he’d ever committed—against anyone.
Gee whiz, what would the fellas think of that?
He’d be the laughing stock of Tulsa, that’s what.
The thought caused him to straighten his spine and lift his chin defiantly. No. Billy was on a mission to rid Tulsa of Zac Hanson once and for all and Bessie Harlow was the key. The most important pawn. Nothing more.
As far as the walkway went, Bessie’s innocence—and blatant ignorance—was easy to play on. When she’d shown up at his house, he thought victory was finally his. When she informed him of her reason for her unannounced presence, he knew he was out of time. Damn him, was Sue Wilkerson really the best decoy he could have dreamed up?
The unnecessary walk up the walkway that they could have easily driven up, as intended, was Billy’s last-ditch effort to change Bessie’s mind about him. Unfortunately, the damned girl was extremely task-oriented and determined. Her eye went absolutely nowhere but on the prize. Now he kept his mind occupied with how to get himself gracefully out of the predicament he now found himself in.
As he lost himself in thought, he was barely aware of the activity just steps ahead of him. Bessie hummed softly as she walked, her steps so light and quiet that she seemed to float on air. His attention caught, however, when she snaked her body to the side and craned her neck. “I think I see the house!” Her voice rang out. “Just beyond those trees!”
Those trees, unfortunately, were just enough to throw Bessie off course and cause her to lose her footing. In a split second, her right foot flew out from underneath her and Billy managed to snap back to the present in time to catch her right before she hit the ground.
Closing the gap between them with two giant steps, he quickly clotheslined her waist, his elbow hooking around her, his other hand gripping the fragile circumference of her elbow as he pulled her up to help steady her. She looked up at him, shocked and bewildered from the experience and Billy, well…nobody had ever looked at him that way before. He’d never been…the hero.
Against the trees behind her, the hazel of her eyes struck his and he couldn’t make himself look away. She blinked at him as he held onto her, the both of them now upright and steady. After a moment of silence—well, silence for Bessie, as the pounding of Billy’s heart deafened his ears—she finally whispered, “Thank you.”
“Bessie,” he whispered back, his breathing quickening all of a sudden. He searched her face, his insides contorting uncomfortably in response to her closeness to him. “Bessie, I can’t…I can’t.”
Now it was her turn to search him. “You can’t what?”
“I can’t go through with this.”
He’d startled her. He could see it when her lashes fluttered. “You…you can’t go through with what?”
“With…with this. Today, I…what if she isn’t the one I want? What if I’ve changed my mind?”
Her body stiffened in his arms and it was then that he realized that she was much more intuitive than he thought she was. “Changed your…? Changed…I don’t—I don’t understand…”
“Bessie,” he whispered again. “Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?”
He could have sworn her feet faltered underneath her. Billy continued his hold on her, growing painfully aware of the way her petite frame pressed against his large one.
Suddenly the blood rushed quickly to her face and she shook her head. “No…”
“A man could lose himself in eyes like yours. He could lose himself…and never try to find his way back.”
The urge was surprisingly more natural than it was deceitful, but Billy didn’t have time to question it. Not when her pink, luscious lips fell into the slight part that begged to be kissed. Not when the breeze danced so perfectly around them, not when her body was beginning to melt in his arms. Was she giving in to him? Was she attracted to him? Or was this a rebound for her? Was she finally lonely enough to consider that her beau may never return after all?
Did any of that really matter?
“Bessie,” he whispered once more as his hand left her arm to remove a strand of hair that had blown into her eyes. And then…he went for it.
His lips hadn’t even reached hers when he began to feel resistance against his chest. Of course she would resist at first, girls always played that game. But the fireworks that would erupt once their lips met would make her putty in his arms in a matter of seconds. He could put up with a little resistance. In fact, he welcomed it.
That was, until the resistance was met with a strangled, “No.”
It was a word that halted him in his tracks.
Before he could reply, however, she was wriggling herself out of his arms. “No,” she repeated. And then louder, “No. Billy Connors, you are behaving quite inappropriately.”
As she separated herself a length of three or so steps from him, Billy’s jaw briefly dropped. What the hell was going on? She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it. It was written all over her face!
Now the only thing written on her face was undeniable horror.
He clenched his jaw and readied himself for war. Then he thought better of it and relaxed his face. This wasn’t over, yet. He still needed her.
Billy winced at the word. Need? Wasn’t there a better word for it?
“Bessie, I—I apologize, I—“
“I have a beau,” she said, her hazel eyes now hard as they bore into his. “I love him.”
“I know,” he replied solemnly. “I was inappropriate. Disrespectful—“
“Thank you for saving me from the fall, though. I appreciate it.” Her eyes peered guiltily down at her wringing hands.
“Bessie, I’m sorry. I am. But I’m not sorry that I said that you’re beautiful. I may have stepped over the line, but I’ll never be sorry for it.”
“Billy,” she replied with pleading eyes. She looked around uncomfortably. “Sue’s house is just right beyond those trees.”
Seriously? She was still going forward with this?
“Bessie,” he said firmly, his eyes planted purposefully onto hers. “I just told you I’m not going through with this—“
Her eyes widened in defiance. “And I just told you—“
“I know,” he interrupted coolly. “Believe me, I always know. You never miss an opportunity to remind me. Face the facts. He’s not coming back.”
She stepped back, her face that of a wounded animal. The expression tugged on his heartstrings for a moment, but mostly he’d had enough of the games. By the time they rang Sue Wilkerson’s doorbell, the damned blonde would surely fawn all over him and any chance he thought he might have with Bessie would fly right out the window. Bessie wouldn’t be able to let the possible love match go—and Billy had been over it a long time ago.
“He isn’t,” he confirmed again. “You can stand there in denial all you want to and yell it all over the city how you have this great and wonderful beau, but where is he, Bessie? He left you. He didn’t have to, but he did. He made the choice to leave you, don’t you understand that? If—if a man loved a woman as much as you say he loves you, would he really choose to leave her the way he left you? It took him no time at all to up and skip town, did it? Did it? He didn’t even take you into consideration as he packed his bags, did he?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but truth was truth. She had to understand it. She had to. “He did so,” she argued, her voice shaking. “He did think of me!”
“When?” Billy snapped darkly. “Before or after you begged him to stay?”
“How do—how do you--?”
“It doesn’t take a scientist to figure it out, Bessie. Of course you begged him to stay, didn’t you? I mean, surely you didn’t shove him into the car, did you?”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered.
“Maybe I am,” he conceded. “But what I’m not wrong about is the way it felt to hold you in my arms just now. And you felt it, too. I know you did.”
“I didn’t feel anything,” she trembled.
“You can’t hide it. I saw it all over your face. I saw your attraction. You wanted me to kiss you. You wanted it.”
“No,” she shook her head rapidly. “You’re wrong.”
Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head in question. “Are you sure about that? Because I’ve kissed a lot of girls and in my experience—“
“Stop it,” she whispered darkly.
“It’s okay if you’re lonely. I get it. And I get that you still love the gyp—the guy. Okay? But soon you’re going to have to face the facts; when he doesn’t come back and you find yourself alone and…and lost…you still have me. I know I’m not your favorite person, but I like you, Bessie. And I promise you, I’m not a bad guy. I’d treat you real good, I’d—why, I’m a changed man! I can see that now. I’m a changed man since I started spending time with you. Don’t you see how you’ve changed me?”
By this time, the girl’s jaw had dropped. Billy fought as hard as he could to keep the triumphant grin off of his face. Jesus, Connors, where the hell did you pull that from? Either way, it didn’t matter. The pride swelled in his chest and his fists balled up at his sides to suppress it.
Bessie’s nostrils flared, her face a shade of crimson. Her chest heaved with breath. Finally, she lurched forward and took his hand forcefully in hers. Billy’s heart flip-flopped so hard that it caused his veins to tingle with fire.
And then she turned on her heel and dragged him up the rest of the dirt drive.
This was not how he’d intended this to turn out.
“We are going to see Sue,” she spat through gritted teeth. “I’m going to introduce you and you’re going to fall head over heels and you’re going to forget all about these crazy delusions you’re having.”
“It’s not crazy—“
“Of course it is,” she huffed as she pulled him along. “If I tell Zac about this, he will be furious. You’ll have to go into hiding. You’ll have to leave town, he’ll be insane--“
Cutting her off, Billy dug his heels into the ground, causing Bessie’s body to halt with a jerk at the end of his arm. Seizing the opportunity, he flipped his wrist over, gripped her hand, and pulled her body against his in one swift motion. He slid his arms around her tiny waist and ignored the dainty fists that pressed against the hardness of his broad chest.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “I’m not doing this.”
Her body trembled and he could see the fear in her eyes. For one fleeting moment, the fear sank his heart. And then he remembered that he was someone to be feared. To be feared on the football field and someday in the courtroom…and right now by Zac Hanson. Most definitely by Zac Hanson.
This fear, though. She didn’t fear for her safety. She feared for her heart, for her state of mind, and Billy could smell it. And he intended to take advantage of it.
“And I told you,” she replied meekly, “that this is a delusion. I have a beau. I’m loyal to him. And you…you’re nervous because of Sue. You’re afraid she’ll reject you. You’re right, you are a changed man. Maybe because of me, I don’t know. But wasn’t that the point of all this anyway? To get Sue to like you?”
He searched her eyes for a moment, unwilling to reveal that she had stumped him with the point she made. Damn her, she just couldn’t be passed off as naïve much anymore, could she? The girl was just too smart for her own damned good—and maybe for Billy’s own good, too.
“I’m not delusional,” he argued firmly. “Isn’t a man allowed to change his mind? Or his feelings? Spending time with you has opened my eyes to a lot, Bessie. All I’m asking for is a chance. Don’t I deserve at least that much?”
“You’re asking for a chance with an unavailable woman.”
“Right now you’re looking pretty damned available to me.”
“Billy. Please.”
“We could start over,” he suggested. “We never really had a real chance, did we? And I was stupid then, I acted like a real jackass, I know I did. And I deserved what Zac gave me, but I just—I just keep asking myself over and over that if I’d been different, if I’d treated you better…would you still have run off with him?”
Bessie nodded. She didn’t even hesitate and it angered Billy. He felt his ears burn with the rage. “Yes.”
He took a chance anyway. Lifting his hand, he swept the backs of his fingers tenderly across her cheek and smiled gently as he watched the goose bumps form on her arm. She wasn’t out of the woods just yet.
“Billy,” she whispered. “This is completely inappropriate behavior. And if you ever want me to come near you again, I suggest that you stop all this. I’m becoming extremely uncomfortable.”
Okay. All right. Too far.
Billy loosened his arms from around her as she wriggled herself out of his grip. Then she turned on her heel and headed for her destination. Billy, on the other hand, wasn’t having it and he stood his ground. “Go ahead,” he called after her. “I’m not coming. Have yourselves a big time doing whatever it is that girls do. I’m out of here.”
He turned and started in the opposite direction when Bessie’s voice rang out like a bell. “Hi, Sue! It’s me, Bessie Harlow! And I’ve brought along a friend!”
Freezing, Billy turned around in time to catch Bessie’s hand waving high in the air and a flash of blonde as Sue approached. Shit! He was trapped for sure now.
Trapped for sure.
As Bessie bound between the trees and onto the main walkway, Sue’s head had already craned itself around Bessie. Arching an eyebrow, Sue looked him over. “Billy Connors is your friend?”
“Of course he is,” Bessie laughed breathlessly. “Our families have known each other for years.”
“Convenient,” Sue murmured. “And intriguing, at that.”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitched. Intriguing, she’d said. Was that so? Well, he supposed that if anyone would run their mouth around town about what they’d seen, it would be Sue. Maybe this little trip wasn’t for naught after all.
Sue Wilkerson was much more petite than Bessie, with eyes of blue crystal and hair as gold as the morning sun. She boasted just slightly more curves than Bessie and it was her looks alone that had compelled him to ask her to the social in the first place. However, he happened to know that underneath the innocent exterior she liked to pass off lay one of the most opinionated gossips that Tulsa possessed. Billy thought she suited him just fine as long as she kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, he’d watched her bat her eyelashes at him on numerous occasions and he knew that pulling the right strings with her would almost definitely work out in his favor. Now if she could go straight to town and spread the word about how Bessie Harlow and Billy Connors showed up on her doorstep together, that would be just dandy.
“I understand that this may look a little…strange, considering the circumstances,” Bessie admitted. “But something struck me not so long ago and I thought, ‘Billy and Sue should meet.’ And so here we are.”
Sue crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Bessie suspiciously. “Is that so? Because we’ve met.”
Billy swallowed hard.
Bessie blinked her eyes, clearly caught off guard. “Um, you—you have?”
“Of course we have. Our parents work together. He’s been over here with his parents plenty of times.”
At that, Bessie turned around and eyed Billy accusingly. He shrugged his shoulders. “I never said we’ve never met.”
“Say, what’s the gag?” Sue asked, tapping her foot.
“Look, Sue,” Bessie replied sheepishly, an attempt to save face. “I know you have a beau and all—“
“A what?” Sue asked incredulously. “I don’t have a beau. What on Earth would make you think a thing like that?”
“Uh…” Bessie looked to Billy again. “Well, Billy—“
“The Independence Day picnic,” he interjected. “I saw you—“
Suddenly, Sue threw her head back in laughter. “That wasn’t my beau. That was my cousin! Visiting for the week from Kansas with my aunt and uncle. And you two thought--?” She laughed harder. “What a riot!”
Well, this threw a brand new wrench into things, didn’t it? Billy was counting on the whole boyfriend thing to get in the way of Bessie’s pursuant of Sue for Billy. Sue was only supposed to be an excuse to get close to Bessie, nothing was actually supposed to come of it. But now…now what was he supposed to do?
Bessie had stars in her eyes all of a sudden. Her joy was almost annoyingly contagious. And now both Sue and Bessie stared at him expectantly. He let out a slow breath. What to do now? What to do…?