Page 22 of Romancing the Rumrunner
“Because…because…it’s just not done! Besides, I’m perfectly capable of choosing my own clothing. I don’t need you to dress me.”
“I beg to differ. My clientele expects a certain look, and nothing you have quite fits the bill.”
Jessie looked down at the pile of dresses she’d dragged out of her closet and tried to be offended on behalf of her clothing, but Tony was right. Her clothes were, for the most part, sturdy and sensible. Aside from a few party dresses and Maude’s slinky little number that she’d worn the night before, nothing in her wardrobe was suitable for a nightclub singer.
“Be that as it may, I cannot allow you to purchase clothing for me.”
“Who’s being the prude now?”
Jessie gasped and pinned Tony with a glare that should have had him withering on her kitchen floor, but instead prompted a bark of laughter from him. “I’m not making an indecent proposal. I’m merely trying to ensure that my employee is properly outfitted to perform her duties. Think of the clothing as a uniform, if it makes you feel better.”
A uniform, huh? That actually did make Jessie feel a bit better. Truthfully, she was thrilled at the thought of a closet full of shiny new dresses. She just worried over what it might mean to accept them from Tony. She’d enjoyed singing in his club more than she’d expected and hopefully she’d be able to get the goods on him—such as, if he and Willie were partners. Or he and Jameson. Or whoever else he might be in cahoots with. Until she found out differently, he was the enemy and that was something she’d do very well to keep in mind. She didnotwant to engage in any extracurricular activities with her handsome new boss.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Jessie’s traitorous cheeks flamed at the memory of Tony’s finger drifting down the column of her neck. The heat in his gaze when he stared at her. The man in question was looking at her with a quizzical expression and her blush deepened. She turned away from him, but judging from his smug smile, he’d seen her reaction and knew exactly what it was about.
Oh, applesauce! She was being ridiculous. “Fine. Let’s get this over with, then.”
She grabbed her coat, slammed her hat on her head, yanked her gloves over her hands, and marched to the door.
Tony shook his head. “I’ve never met a dame who had to be forced into dolling up.”
Jessie stopped on the sidewalk and waited for Tony to open the door to his automobile. She didn’t say another word until he’d slid onto the seat beside her. She knew she was being surly and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. His request wasn’t unreasonable. After all, it was his club and she would be entertaining there. He had every right to make sure she looked the part.
She sighed. She might hate it, but she admitted when she was in the wrong. Maybe she could cut him a little break. For now.
“I apologize if I seem out of sorts. I’m just used to fending for myself. I don’t like being in anyone’s debt and you buying me dresses hits a little too close to the mark.”
And it was oddly personal, for a man she wasn’t involved with, to be buying her clothing. But she didn’t add that.
Tony nodded. “I can understand that. Well, how about we say the dresses are costumes that belong to the club. For as long as you sing there, you are welcome to them. But should you move on, they will be left behind for the next girl. Would that make you feel better about all this?”
A sliver of disappointment settled in her gut. What he offered was the perfect solution. He got to dress her to his heart’s content and she didn’t have to be morally offended by the situation. She mentally kicked herself in the keister for turning down ownership of the new clothes.
But she couldn’t very well decline now, after the stink she’d raised. “That would suit me just fine, thank you.”
Tony smiled again, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking, and turned his attention back to the road. He turned onto the main thoroughfare, cutting off a delivery truck in the process.
Jessie just barely managed to keep from shrieking, emitting instead a high-pitched, strangled gasp while she clung to the frame of the car, praying her heart would stay in her chest and her breakfast would stay in her stomach.
Tony looked at her and raised an eyebrow at her white-knuckled grasp on the dashboard. “Is something wrong?”
“That truck almost plowed right into us.”
Tony frowned, obviously not sure what she meant. He barreled up to a line of cars waiting at an intersection, not applying the brakes nearly fast enough for Jessie. She slammed her feet on the floorboards, irrationally hoping she could somehow slow the vehicle from where she sat. She released a deep breath, trying to keep from screaming at him like a harpy, and instead closed her eyes. Perhaps if she couldn’t see the near collisions that seemed to be Tony’s way of driving, she would be able to get to the shop without making a complete fool of herself.
“Are you all right?” Tony asked.
“Fine,” Jessie bit out.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like riding in an automobile?”
“Not particularly, no.”
Tony laughed and revved the engine, gunning the car through the intersection. “Why ever not?”
“If God had meant for us to go barreling toward each other at forty miles per hour we’d have been born with wheels on our feet.”
Tony’s laughter rang through the car. Jessie turned her head, ignoring him. Honestly, she didn’t mind the occasional ride and went along with Charlie and Joe on deliveries often enough. But they didn’t drive the way Tony did, and being surrounded by the sturdy delivery van seemed safer than being encased in all the glass and fancy upholstery of Tony’s auto.
