A Wild Surge of Guilty Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

Lorraine.”
    “Oh. You said ‘baby.’ I was imagining a child—”
    “The size of a shoebox?”
    Judd laughed, and the ginger ales were served, again two-thirds full and with a spoon. Harry screwed off the cap on his hammered silver flask. “Shall I?”
    Judd shoved his highball glass forward. “Homemade?”
    Harry filled the glasses. “Certainly not, old fellow! Shipped from the Beefeater distillery by way of our friends in Canada.”
    Judd lifted his glass. “Well, here’s to the Eighteenth Amendment.”
    Harry rejoined, “And may Congress prohibit sex just as effectively.”
    Kitty giggled, and Harry gave Judd a lewd wink.
    Ruth angled her head. “Are you employed, Mr. Gray?”
    Harry told the ladies, “Judd sells for Benjamin and Johnes.”
    “Sells what?” Kitty asked.
    “The Bien Jolie line,” Judd said. “Corselettes and brassieres.I handle the retailers in eastern Pennsylvania and upstate New York. Our corporate offices are just a stone’s throw from here—Thirty-fourth and Fifth.”
    Harry’s hand heavily fell on Ruth’s as he said, “And I’ll make sure his office gets you anything you want, sweetie. How about it, Bud?”
    Judd felt forced to say, “Always glad to be of service.”
    Kitty already seemed tipsy as she asked, “What kind of fella sells corsets?”
    Judd told her, “A fellow who’s fond of the female form.”
    Ruth smiled. “You must get asked that question a lot.”
    “Oh, did that sound practiced?”
    Kitty asked what “Bien Jolie” meant.
    “‘Very pretty,’” Judd said.
    Kitty frowned. “Isn’t that
très jolie?”
    “Aren’t you the smart one,” Harry said, and grabbed her torso more tightly to him. Because of the heat, she wriggled away.
    “I haven’t any French,” Judd said. “But I’m told the
bien
makes the
jolie
more intense.”
    “Like ‘very, very pretty’?” Ruth asked.
    Judd grinned. “Like you.”
    Ruth shied from the sultry pleasure of his gaze.
    “And flattery like that is why he hauls in five thousand dollars a year,” Harry said.
    Kitty gasped. “Five thousand dollars! Jeepers!”
    “It’s just a number,” Judd said, and noticed Ruth’s interest. Judd noticed, too, that Ruth still had not lifted a glass with them, that her first iced drink was sweating onto the homey blue-and-white checkered tablecloth. “Are you a teetotaler, Mrs. Snyder?”
    She seemed demure as she said, “I just pace myself. There’s nothing worse than a full day of drinking, then waking up next to some guy and not being able to remember how you met or why he’s dead.”
    She shocked them into raucous laughter and the fat waiter took that as an invitation to finally take their food orders. But Harry Folsom noted that the four of them seemed to be having so much fun together that they all should flee the torrid city and head up to his shady porch in New Canaan, Connecticut. Mrs. Kaufman liked the idea, but Judd excused himself to go back to work, and on a glancing hint from Kitty, Ruth said she wanted to catch the train to Queens Village.
    Exiting the booth, Judd asked, “Are you taking the Long Island line?”
    Ruth said she was.
    “I’ll walk you to Penn Station.”
    She said nothing as they strolled west to Seventh Avenue. Looking at their reflections in the shop windows, Judd noticed that she would be at least two inches taller than he even without high heels. But she was glamorous, too, and the gin had made him zesty and loquacious, so as they walked down to 33rd Street, Judd filled the silence with chatter and facts about Pennsylvania Station. Did she know it took up seven acres and was the largest indoor space in America? And the enormous waiting room? Judd had heard it was inspired by the Roman Baths of Caracalla.
    She seemed amused. “You know a lot, don’t you?” It did not seem a compliment.
    “I have no idea why I’m so nervous around you.”
    She wryly said, “Well, I’m ‘very, very pretty.’ Any man would be.”
    Walking