Page 44 of Romancing the Rumrunner
“Well then, let’s go deliver it, shall we?”
Her smile widened and she nodded. He held the door open for her, taking one last look before following her out to the hallway.
“What is this?” he asked, waving his arm toward the tunnel.
“Just an extension of the cellars.”
“What’s behind those doors?”
She led him back to the stairs. “Nothing. They are closed off. That storeroom is the only one we use.”
She seemed to be regretting letting him in on her little secret. As well she should. Though what he’d do with the information, he had no idea. If The Red Phoenix was using Jessie’s father’s old stores, then they weren’t buying from Willie. And despite the storeroom of hooch, he hadn’t seen any sign of a still.
So. What did he really have? Jameson would be thrilled with a storeroom of booze, but technically it wasn’t illegal to own. Her father had made it before Prohibition had gone into effect and as long as Jessie wasn’t selling it, which he had no real evidence of her doing, then the presence of the room itself was worthless to them.
But she’d shown a great deal of trust in letting him see it. There had been no need for her to show him. But she had. Why?
To see his reaction perhaps? Test him? See if he’d go running off to Jameson?
He took a deep breath. It was an important discovery, but until he knew what to do with it, he would just act like it was none of his beeswax. He didn’t want Jameson harassing her more than he already was. Tony hadn’t seen one thing to indicate that Jessie even knew a man named the Phoenix, let alone was his partner or lover. All he’d seen was a hardworking, charitable woman who could sing like an angel and kiss like the devil.
He’d keep what he’d discovered to himself until she gave him a reason for sharing it.
“Oh, I didn’t put out the lamp,” she said, turning to go back down.
“I’ll get it,” Tony said. “It’ll just take a second.”
Jessie hesitated, but Tony had already turned and was heading back down to the storeroom. He listened, but didn’t hear her following him. He pulled the Vest Pocket Kodak camera Jameson had given him out of his suit pocket, flipping it open and cursing when the bellows stuck a bit. He fiddled with it, finally getting them to extend fully and quickly snapped some pictures of the storeroom, hating himself a little more with every click.
The pictures wouldn’t harm her. They were no proof that she was selling anything. Hell, the Feds probably wouldn’t be able to see anything in the tiny pictures anyway. But they weresomethingand might get Jameson off his back, buy him a little more time. He had to give the man something or they’d yank him off the job and then he wouldn’t be able to help Jessie, or find out what was really going on.
“Tony?” Jessie called down.
Tony put out the lamp, shoving the camera back in his pocket. Maybe he wouldn’t need to give Jameson the pictures at all. He could find another way to stay on the jobandget to the bottom of things. No one ever need see them.
“Sorry,” he said when he got back to the top. “It was dark down there without the light.”
The smile Jessie bestowed on him both warmed his heart and made him cringe. He never should have taken those pictures. It was a horrible impulse that he should never have acted on.
She grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss.
“Thank you, Tony.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “We’d best get moving.”
He took the satchel from her and led her from the store to his waiting car, guilt lapping at his heels.
Chapter Fourteen
Jessie took her place, keeping her eyes down even after the heat of the spotlight hit her. Even after several weeks of singing, she still couldn’t calm the stampede of elephants in her belly. Until the first notes of her song rang out. Each note seemed to chase away a little more of her fear and by the time the introduction blended into the opening notes of the song, she was fully ready to let loose.
She opened her mouth and sang, filling her diaphragm and letting her voice carry through every corner of the speakeasy. Her body swayed in time to the music and Jessie let the tempo dictate her movements. It was a fun song, a bit cheeky. The singer sang it with a playful, kittenish voice. But not Jessie.
Jessie had the band slow the music down. Her voice was deeper, richer, and made the lyrics somehow less flirty and infinitely more naughty. She swayed her shoulders and shook her hips as the song dictated, but with the slower rhythm, her movements were borderline indecent. And she reveled in it. She never stepped out of line in her real life. So for the few moments she was on stage, it was wickedly fun to vamp it up.
Her eyes roved over the crowd as she sang. Until they came to rest on Tony.
He stood at the back of the room, leaning against the bar with a tumbler of rum in his hand, his eyes locked onto hers. All the other patrons disappeared. It was only her and him in the room, her voice meant only for him. When she sang the line about letting someone take a kiss, Tony’s teeth scraped along his lower lip. The sight of him biting his lip sent a wave of heat through her that almost turned her knees to jelly, and she no longer needed to put on an act to sell the song to her audience. Every word of it was the truth. The riot of sensation rocking through her body lent a rasping sultriness to her voice that had her audience mesmerized. But she had eyes for only Tony.
