Jezebel (17 page)

Beatrice said nothing. Just
opened and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. Not waiting
for Beatrice to gather her bearings, Celeste barreled forward.

“
Neither
of you are worth it. The past is better left in the past. It’s
just too bad that this meeting hadn’t come sooner.”
Celeste turned to Ralph and smiled. The past was melting from her
shoulders like slush in eighty degree weather. “I could have
devoted less time believing I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Celeste
waited for a comeback, half expected one, and found herself ill
prepared for the uncomfortable silence that took hold of everyone’s
tongues.

Done with the lot of them
and desperately needing a drink, Celeste turned around and left.

“
I’ll
see your fifty and raise you another fifty.”

Throwing
two bills on the table, Shane eyed the man across from him. There
were only three of them still in the game, the other two recently
bowing out. As the third player contemplated his luck, a man whom
the others had called Willie, started teasing him.

“
Ah
come on, Russ. Either you got it or you don’t.” Willie
grinned at the bald-headed fellow deliberating over his cards.
Finding the other man unmoved, Willie turned his attention to making
small talk, “Any of you going to see the revival of that play
Mulatto
next week?

“
I
heard it’s been sold out for weeks,” Grissom, a number
runner from the Bronx, replied.

“
A
play?” The man to Shane’s left snorted. “C
ount
me out. I’m a hoofer. If it doesn’t have any music in it,
it’s square and I’m not there.”

Several
a
mens
drifted around the table.

“
But
this isn’t any ordinary play,” Willie countered. “This
one’s written and produced by Langston Hughes himself. And get
this, the entire cast is colored.”

“
All colored?”
Russ asked, looking up from his hand.

“
Keep your head on
your cards.” Willie admonished the other man before turning
back to his captivated audience.

“
Yep,
the cast is one hundred percent colored. My old lady said it’s
about this colored boy whose daddy’s white and his m
other’s
black,” looking over to Shane, he eyed him briefly before
continuing, “and he doesn’t know whether to pass or stay
where he’s at.”

“
I
had a cousin who passed.” Russ spoke
up
again. “She married some college professor over on Long Island.
I haven’t seen that girl in ten years. Every now and then she
sends her momma, my Auntie May, a few dollars every now and then.”

Willie shot Shane a look,
but he ignored him. No sad sap story was going to keep him from
pursuing Celeste. Heck, not even a mobster’s warning had done
the trick.

Plus, the circumstances were
completely different. If one of them was going to sacrifice his or
her family and friends, it would be him because Celeste’s
beautiful brown skin would prevent her from being anything other than
colored.

Shane
frowned. When had he started thinking of Celeste on permanent terms?

“
Have
mercy, who’s the lark in lavender?” Grissom nodded toward
the door and the entire group swung around.

Several lewd remarks swirled
around the table as the men commented on the beauty of the woman
hovering on the threshold. Shane grew tense, his body filling with
hot jealousy.

“
That
there is Celeste Newsome,” the man on Shane’s left
drawled, returning his attention to his cards. As he looked up, all
eyes were on him. The entire table waited silently for him to divulge
what he knew about the dame, including Shane.

“
She’s
beautiful, but that apple has worms.”

Shane slid his hands under
the table to keep from slamming his fist in the other man’s
jaw.

“
I
call bullshit, Benny!” Willie challenged. “A dame like
that’s refined, cultured. And you,” he paused to look the
other man up and down, “you’re far from it.”

“
She used to dance the
local circuit.”

“
She’s a hoochie
coochie dancer?” Russ whispered as if just saying it would make
him burn in hell.

“
No!
She’s a fellow hoofer,” Benny confirmed. “One of
the best. Of course, that’s when she’s sober and not
chasing every trouser leg in Harlem.”

“
I
say it’s the other way around.” Willie glanced at Celeste
again. “Showgirls always have men panting after them, buying
them flowers, boxes of French chocolates and expensive bottles of
parfume.”

“
And jockeying to
escort them to the theater or gallery openings or taking them for
long walks in the park,” Russ added.

“
What do you know
about gallery openings?” Willie asked.

With a
sheepish expression, Russ retreated to the cards in his hand. “Not
much, but I’ve read about them in the
Evening
Post
.”

Benny
shrugged. “Either way, she’s trouble.”

“
Aren’t they
all?” Willie countered.

“
You sound like you’re
interested.”

“
Nah,”
Willie shook his head. “Give me a girl who can cook pig feet,
drink be
er out
of a bottle and doesn’t mind going to a cock fight and I’m
in heaven.”
Willie paused
to play with his cards, moving two the left side of his hand. “Hell
I don’t even want to go to this play, but my
old
lady’
s
practically twisting my arm.”

Willie’s
eyes widened. “Look at that bum. Doesn’t stand a chance
and doesn’t realize it.”

Shane watched as a male
admirer ran a sweating glass down the length of Celeste’s arm.
From his vantage point, she didn’t seem disinterested.

In fact,
they exchanged words and she even smiled. She continued smiling even
when her admirer grabbed a hold of her wrist. Shane dug his heels in
because he wanted to go over there and ring both of their necks.

“
Oh,
he’s a goner!” Willie exclaimed as Shane scooted back in
his chair. He’d played the silent observer long enough. “She’s
about to lay into him.”

And sure enough, Celeste’s
admirer stumbled away. Even though no one took his place, Shane
still felt tightly wound like a spring, half wishing the guy would
come back so he could punch the daylights out of him.

“
Now
do you believe me?” Willie jabbed his thumb in Celeste’s
direction. “A gal like that you have to win over with a little
woo woo and expensive dates. Not a face full of whiskey fumes.”

“
I’m out,”
Russ announced, laying his cards on the table, face up.

The
declaration drew Willie back in the game and in turn Shane as well.
The sooner he could end this, the sooner he could get to the real
reason he was here. He’d arrived shortly after sunset and sat
in on a few hands to pass the time.

Shane eyed his opponent.
Holding four queens, his cards were in his favor. Still, there was a
possibility that Willie could be holding a better hand. Yet the odds
were a million to one.

Willing
to take a chance, Shane
threw
a hundred dollar bill on top of the pile, then he waited for the
other man to call his bluff.

“
That’s too
high for my blood,” Willie moved to throw his hand in, but
Shane
stayed
him.

“
You
have something of much more value.”

“
And
what’s that?” Willie gulped.

“
I
want your tickets to the play.”

Willie
jerked as if Shane hit him.
“What for?”

“
A
certain lady I’m interested in likes the theater.”

Willie’s
dark gaze flitted over the pot, which hovered around five hundred
dollars. He licked his lips and Shane knew he had him on the hook.

“
If
you win, I’ll meet you tomorrow with the tickets.”
Smiling broadly, Willie placed two kings and three fours on the
table. “A full house,” he crowed, sitting back in his
chair.

Not one for drama, Shane
placed his queens on the table. Willie leaned forward, and the rest
of the table erupted in laughter.

Shane slipped into his suit
jacket. “Tomorrow. One o’clock. Big Apple Restaurant.”

“
Even if I have to
crawl, considering the beating my old lady’s gonna to give me.”

Shane gathered up his
winnings and stuffed them inside his breast pocket. “Thank you
for the game gentlemen and the conversation.”

“
At
least give us a chance to our money back?” Grissom protested.

While the
others agreed with the number runner,
Shane
patted his chest where the wad of money rested. “Gotta pass,
fellas. I have some winning over and a little woo wooing to do.”

chapter twelve

Celeste
had only downed her second flute of champagne when she reached the
mansion’s lower level. Not nearly as foxed as she
’d
liked to be, she entered the salon off the main ballroom. Earlier,
she’d avoided the room like the plague because of the half a
dozen or so tables groaning with food and booze.

Despite her earlier bravado,
she’d cracked. She didn’t love Ralph. The old feelings
didn’t come rushing back as she thought they would, but it
didn’t lessen the sting of finding out her first love had never
loved her after all.

Was it just her or were the
walls really closing in? She shuffled over, relinquished one of the
empty flutes, turned her nose up at a bottle of Californian Golden
Sable and chose a magnum of Morlant.

Half-filled and woefully
aired, the champagne’s flavor had diminished considerably. Of
course, it didn’t prevent her from filling her glass. She
wasn’t drinking for the taste anyway.

Unfortunately,
the bubbly wasn’t strong enough to forget the past—she
needed an open bar or two for that. And yet, it provided enough of a
buzz to let loose. Gripping her bottled courage, Celeste followed
the tide through a set of double doors, down a hallway leading to the
back of the house and another room she’d refused to enter.

She’d
passed the b
allroom
earlier in the evening and cut a clear path of it. If anyone
recognized her, they’d keep her on her feet the entire night.

Plus, the
scene was too wild even for her taste. Men were picking up their
partners and throwing them around their hips. Arms and legs flapped
as people lost themselves to the hypnotizing tunes of the jazz band
trying to stay ahead of their demanding audience. Watching them had
been exhausting even to a dancer like herself.

Now was a different story.
She wanted to dance, get caught up in the moment where the past
didn’t exist and the future remained happily in the distance.

“
Celeste.”

Celeste stumbled, but
remained on her feet, allowing the crowd to sweep her up and carry
her along. Despite her best efforts, her past had caught up with
her.

“
Celeste, please stop.
We need to talk.” Ralph called after her and too close for
comfort.

More desperate than furious,
Celeste picked up her pace. Why couldn’t he just leave it be!
She could evade him in the ballroom with some eager suit, who
wouldn’t take kindly to an old beau.

Celeste’s
anxiety doubled. The entrance to the ballroom was clogged by people
coming and going. Desperate, she elbowed a few of them aside. It
didn’t help. She’d wasted too much time and unnecessary
energy.

“
Celeste.”

Her name rolled off his lips
and pierced her where her heart should’ve been.

She should’ve ignored
him, kept going. Instead, she allowed him to pull her aside.

Batting away tears of
frustration, Celeste faced him.

Still boyishly handsome, the
years looked good on him but he no longer had the capacity to make
her heart caterwaul like when she was around Shane. One look from
the boxer and her knees filled with champagne.

“
Why couldn’t
you just let me have the last word?” she bit out, irritated
this chapter of her life wouldn’t close.

“
I still love you,
baby girl.” He stepped closer and Celeste stiffened. “Ever
since I’ve been back, I’ve thought about coming to see
you.”