Page 15 of Romancing the Rumrunner
She slung her dress over her shoulder and headed for the door, ignoring Maude’s dire muttered warnings. It was show time.
…
Tony’s bored gaze swept over his club one more time, but nothing even remotely interesting had occurred since the last time he’d checked the crowd. Business was booming, with more and more people filtering in every night. The owners of the rival speakeasies were starting to take notice, which was a good thing. Hopefully soon, he’d be able to ferret outsomeonewho could give him a little information on what he was truly after. The identity of the Phoenix.
This nightclub owner gig wasn’t nearly as fun as he’d thought it would be, especially since he still hadn’t gotten any information he could use. Jameson and his bosses would get restless soon if he didn’t start producing something good for them and he’d be back to cooling his heels in his jalopy of a P.I. office instead of paintin’ the town as the manager of the hottest joint around.
Tony knocked back the finger of whiskey in his glass and slid the empty along the bar to his bartender George, who neatly scooped it up and stashed it in the dirty bin. Tony’s attention wandered to the sole entrance to the club, the smooth liquor running down his throat suddenly catching at the sight that met his eyes.
He coughed and blinked his watering eyes a few times. Jessie’s smooth brown hair was sleeked back in a sequined headband and fell in rippling waves to her shoulders. The red silk dress she wore hugged every one of her delectable curves, the fringe attached to the material swinging tantalizingly with every move she made. Her fingers played with a long strand of knotted pearls that hung from her slender neck. She glanced around the club, her bright red-painted lips pursed.
Tony was on his way to her before he’d decided to move. She glanced up, her mouth a littleOof surprise when he stopped in front of her.
“Good evening,” he said, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. “You look absolutely mouthwatering tonight, Miss Harlan.”
“Thank you,” she said, forcing the words out as though she didn’t have enough air in her lungs to speak properly.
“I’m glad you decided to come. Shall I show you to a table?”
Her eyes met his and he fought the urge to suck in a breath. Those startlingly blue eyes of hers raked over him from crown to toe. The contrast with her deep brown hair rocked him and it took him a moment to realize she hadn’t answered him yet.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. She blinked, her lips twitching into a chagrined smile. Hmm, perhaps she’d found his appearance to her liking as well. One could hope. His brand new suit felt like butter against his skin. Smooth and fitted to perfection. The knowledge that she was looking and liking what she saw sparked a smoldering heat low in his belly.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
Tony led her to one of his best tables, right up front near the stage. He helped her into a chair but kept hold of her hand even after she’d been seated. She glanced up at him, a perfectly groomed eyebrow raising. He took the seat next to her.
“So, what do you think of my place?”
Jessie looked around, lingering on every corner of the club as if she were truly appraising it and not just humoring him. “It’s nice.”
“Just nice?”
“Well, I’m partial to The Red Phoenix.”
“Yet, tonight you are here.”
She shrugged. “You invited me and I wanted to see what all the hullabaloo was about.”
“And does it live up to your expectations?”
Her gaze explored him again and his body responded to her perusal as though it were her hands running over him and not her eyes. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of one of those looks. He liked it. Very much. At least coming from her.
“More than.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She stared at him a moment and then looked away. He swore he detected one of her telltale blushes beneath her rouge. Good. Perhaps she was just as affected as he was. He still held her hand, and she’d made no move to pull it from his grasp. His fingers tightened slightly and she looked back at him.
“So, Jessie. What can I get for you this evening? Aside from a job, which I’ve yet to hear an answer about,” he said, teasingly. “I’m curious, with that voice you’ve got, why don’t you sing at The Red Phoenix, since you say you are a regular there?”
“They’ve got Maude Fairfax. They don’t need me.”
“If you’re still not sure, why don’t we give you a little trial? See how you like it?”
“A trial?”
“Sure. Hell, even if you couldn’t sing—and I know you can—my patrons would probably pay extra just to sit there and look at you for an hour a night.”
