September Wind (23 page)

             
When they reached her room, she closed her eyes and turned the doorknob.

             
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her around. “I’m not going in with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

             
“
Oh.” she said, so relieved she nearly hugged him. “Is it okay, though? I mean…”

             
“
Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” He dropped his arms, standing back for a long look into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

             
“
Oh, yes, I’ll be fine.”

             
“
Here.” He handed her a card. “My name and number. I’m leaving on a business trip, but as soon as I get back, I’ll stop by.”

             
“
Thanks, Peter.”

             
She stepped into her room, closed and latched the door, and then took her jewelry off, and placed it along with the card inside the top dresser drawer.

Her head throbbed as she took off her dress, hung it in the closet, and then struggled out of her uncomfortable undergarments. She went in and pulled out one of the silky nightgowns Beatrice bought her, tossed it over a chair, and crawled into bed.

              When she woke at six the next morning, she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. The headache was no longer a stabbing pain, but more of a nuisance that kept her from going back to sleep. She sat up and poured herself a glass of water, although that seemed to wind her up. She finally dressed in a pair of plaid peddle-pushers, a yellow top, tan slip-ons, and then went down to the kitchen.

             
Toni was alone with her baking gloves on.

             
“
Hi, Toni.”

             
“
You’re up early. How was your first night?”

             
“
Oh, okay. I met a nice man.”

             
“
Can’t ask for more than that.” Toni pulled a pan out of the oven. “I’ve got piping hot muffins here, and some rolls I’m about ready to ice. If you want eggs, it’ll just take a few minutes.”

             
Emily put a fork into a muffin and lifted it onto a plate. “No, thanks.” She picked up a cup of coffee Toni had poured for her and headed toward the door.

             
“
That’s all you’re having?”

             
Emily looked over the spread on the counter, not wanting to hurt Toni’s feelings. “It all looks good, but...lunchtime I’ll have something more, I promise.”

             
Up in her room, she sat at the table, looking out into the back yard as she ate her muffin and mulled over the fact that her first job would always be that she had worked in a whorehouse. It was disheartening too that the next trip to the lounge she wouldn’t have Peter to rely on, maybe not for a while, and possibly never.

             
Just the thought of going down, not knowing what to expect, was so depressing she kicked off her shoes and crawled back into bed. When all she could do was toss and turn, she got up and looked out the door, listening for any signs of life. For all the people supposedly in the house, it seemed awfully quite. She looked up the stairs leading to the third floor. She was curious, but not enough to go up.

That evening, after a shower and a touch of makeup, she fixed her hair into soft curls that framed her face and flowed around her shoulders and down her back. She tucked a red flower above her left ear, put on a gold necklace and a matching bracelet, and then went to the closet and picked out a white dress that Desirae insisted was made for her.

              “
You look far too stunning in that to worry about the inch or two above the knees,” was Desirae’s argument.

When Beatrice was just as adamant, Emily finally gave in, and now as she was about to put it on, she had a feeling that it would be the best part of the evening. She pulled on silk nylons and fastened them to her corset. Then she slipped on the white bubble dress, zipped it up the back, and then stepped into a pair of red heels. When she looked in the mirror for a few moments, she imagined herself as pure and elegant as a water lily on her way to meet Michael.

She entered the lounge to the sound of music, although instead of a pianist, a Jukebox played in the far left corner beyond the dance floor. She scanned the room and settled on the bar where she met Peter the previous night. It was darker than the rest of the lounge, but it was in the corner where she could keep an eye on everyone. It made her feel more in control that way. A waiter came with a glass of champagne, although it wasn’t what she wanted since she learned they gave her headaches. She had already decided to limit herself to a glass and a half.

She passed Meredith and Ginger who were sitting with a couple of men. There was an invitation, an exchanged of hellos and introductions, and then a low whistle from one of the men as she walked away.

              When she approached the bar, she noticed a thin, pasty looking man down at the end. He had been watching her, yet when she caught his eye, he turned away. She thought he seemed as out of place as she felt.

             
“
What else do you have, besides champagne?” she asked the bartender as she slid up onto one of the high-backed stools. She took a sip of her champagne then set it aside. “This is so good, but too much gives me a headache.”

             
“
Well, there’s whiskey, rum, brandy, vodka?”

             
“Brandy...mm. Yeah, I’ll have that.”

             
“
What would you like with it?”

             
“
Something with it? Well, whatever you’ve got.”

             
She watched him make her drink, garnish it with a slice of orange, and then bring it over. “Here you go. I put in some sweet and sour mix. But if you don’t like it, I’ll be glad to make you something else.”

She took a sip, and then another until a delightful warmth spread from her head down to her toes. It was as if a ray of sunshine had draped a blanket of joy around her. The wine and champagne had relaxed her, but this was something far beyond that. This had fire to it, like a flame simmering, ready to make something wonderful happen.

              A new tune played on the Jukebox as the thin man walked over and stood beside her. He didn’t say anything, just put his drink down and stood looking straight ahead. She caught his eye in the mirror for a moment and couldn’t help but think how much he reminded her of a bird; timid maybe, with a broken wing the way his shoulders drooped.

She watched his reflection as he turned to her.

              “
I’m Erich,” he said in a small distant voice.

             
She sat back and looked at him directly, but he had already turned away for a drink. His long fingers trembled as he wrapped them carefully around his glass as if it held something very important he didn’t want to slip away. His short sandy hair peaked out in front, and his sideburns darkened as they swooped down and then up like a sliver moon.

             
“
Hello,” she said in the happiest voice she could assemble, hoping to make him feel comfortable. She wondered what he would think if he knew she had compared him to a bird. But it was true, he did remind her of a bird. The thought had just dropped into her head before she could stop it. Besides, she loved birds, all kinds of birds.

             
He placed his drink on the counter with the same care he picked it up. Then he slipped onto the seat next to her, motioning to the bartender.

             
“
You’re new here,” he said, peeping at her in the mirror. His shoulders went back which made him look taller and less broken all of a sudden. He seemed less nervous.

             
“
Yep, my second day. Well, actually my bird... m-my third.”

             
He turned and met her eyes straight on.

She smiled blissfully, and why not, with all the drink pulsating through her veins and someone as interesting and un-threatening as this little man sitting beside her. She figured she could pin him down with one hand if she had to. She laughed to herself at all the thoughts buzzing around in her head. So silly, and yet it was downright exhilarating the way the alcohol took over and freed her to think and say exactly what came to mind.

              She had to admit that right now, this job didn’t seem like much of a job at all. Well, not yet, although she was being paid to drink, which she seemed to do very well, and talk to strangers, which became easier by the minute.               Easier for Erich too.

             
They were quite a pair, complete opposites, she thought. And yet in some ways alike, filling themselves with drink and talking about nothing important, knowing where it would all end.

             
Then, before she realized what happened, the delightful warmth that came with her first drink turned into something much more. The warmth became warmer until it began to boil through her veins as if bolts of lightning had cast her into another body, into a new self. Suddenly, she was itching to do something with all of this newfound energy.

             
A band had begun to play, and a few couples were out on the floor.

             
She looked at Erich who still reminded her of a bird, yet not so out of place anymore.

             
You want to dance?” she asked him.

             
He gaped at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time, then set his drink down and stood. “Dancing is not my forte, but I’ll give it a whirl.” He followed her onto the floor where he stood for a moment not sure what to do with his hands, or his feet. Then he began to move, barely, as if he were pushing something heavy out of the way… a lot of somethings, all in different directions.

             
Emily smiled at him as the music carried into another song. The rhythm changed, her inhibitions fading as passion took her to a place she had never been. Each note became like a pounding heartbeat vibrating down into her skin, filling her very soul as she moved to the sounds of guitars, and drums, and a horn that wailed like someone in pain. With every chord and each haunting timbre, her old-self became more and more like someone else.

             
Across from her, her partner stood in one spot churning out a jerk and then a bounce while his feet moved in a sort of twist and scratch motion. She loved that he tried so hard.

             
“
You have an interesting rhythm,” she told him as she swayed to the beat of the drums. “Very entertaining.”

Wherever that came from she didn’t care because the music and drink were inside her, talking, making her feel as free as a bird.

              They danced through another song, and then sat for a drink. She was ready to go back onto the floor. But Erich had other plans.

             
“
You ready to go up?” he said, a little bolder now.

             
Everything changed in that moment, the passion, and the excitement, gone. For the last hour, she thought there had been a friendship building between them, and now, with just a few words, she wondered if this innocent-looking man was as harmless as he seemed. She studied his face in the mirror, and whether it was fear of the unknown, or something more, she could no longer find the warmth within the darkness of those small round eyes.

She let the shock set in, finished her drink, and then stood, determined to get it over with, quickly. “Let’s go.”

              Why should she care that she was going upstairs to have sex with a man that reminded her of a humming bird? Or was it one of those elegant stilts she had seen on the way to school? At this point, what difference did it make. Oh, and to think she had actually thought she had a chance with Michael.

             
She grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray as they walked across the room.

             
Erich stopped near the exit and exchanged words with a woman behind a counter before they left to go up.

             
Inside her room, she finished off her drink, set the glass on the table, and then began to undress. She didn’t look at him standing there, gawking with those bird eyes. Although she knew from experience that the happier he was, the better off she would be.

             
Her clothes lay piled on the floor, blemishes of her youth haunting her again as she slipped under the covers and began counting spots on the ceiling, trying not to think of that scrawny little man who was about to crawl in bed with her.

             
After moving from counting to just waiting, she heard rustling, and then nothing. She turned slightly and saw that he had taken his shirt off. He gave her a look like a dog that had just messed on the floor.