If I Had You Read Online Free PDF Page B

order?” he said to Lionel Dew as he passed through Registration.
    His night manager glanced up with a smile. “Every room is full tonight.”
    Peter surveyed the throng in front of the desk. A janitor was on duty to keep the blue, black, and white marble floor spotless. Every spot on the plush, circular seating arrangements was taken by flappers and their beaus, flirting and trading quips. He could hear the music of upper class drawls, money in the bank. “Try to keep non-guests out of the Grand Hall. It is crowded enough in here. All of these people cannot be waiting for a table at the Restaurant.”
    â€œThere is a private party in the Ballroom.”
    â€œIt’s for an older crowd. Discreetly deal with those persons not in the best attire.”
    He passed by the white and blue walls of the Coffee Room with regret, brushing a minute speck of lint off the lapel of his tailcoat. When he reached the service corridor, he straightened his bow tie and pulled a ring of keys from his pocket so that he could unlock the rear door between his hotel and his club. After he went through the dark space, he carefully relocked everything again. It wouldn’t do to let just any guest through. Recently, he’d had enough reports of bad behavior in the service corridor to consider locking the entire area off from guests, but then, he didn’t want to destroy every opportunity for sin at the Grand Russe.
    The modern age required a modern hotelier, and people deliberately came to places like this hotel to let off some steam. He didn’t expect Victorian behavior in the Jazz Age, far from it. Murder, on the other hand, he could do without. Another situation like the Starlet Murders and he and his silent partners would be out of business for good.
    He had debated allowing theatrical folk into the hotel as guests for just that reason. Drugs, illegitimate liaisons, and other drama seemed to follow such people like clockwork. But they brought fame, élan, and the Grand Russe needed that too. Not just well-heeled politicians and middle-aged aristocrats.
    He spotted Cuddy Friend, the nightclub manager, hovering behind the bar. “Who is here tonight?”
    â€œTallulah Bankhead, Duff Cooper’s crowd, and a very junior royal with a lady not his wife,” Cuddy reported.
    â€œExcellent. Celebrity, aristocrats, and royalty. Is Lady Diana here with her husband? No Bright Young Things?”
    â€œYes, she is. A few members of Elizabeth Ponsonby’s crowd are here.”
    He smiled. “Lady Diana is far more exciting than her MP husband. I think we’ve covered all the bases.”
    â€œWe have. I’m not sure Tallulah has. She’s not wearing much more than a few strings of pearls.”
    â€œShe’s an eccentric, but London loves her. As long as her body is beautiful, I’m all for it. Are we making any money?”
    â€œWhen the waitresses can get around to the tables,” Cuddy said. “It’s overcrowded. We’ve already had to start turning people away at the door.”
    â€œThe band sounds good.” Peter listened to the piano player play his version of “King Porter Stomp,” one of this year’s big new songs. “Do they know Rhapsody in Blue ? I’d like to hear it.”
    â€œOh sure, Judd knows his stuff. Gets all the latest sheet music from America.”
    The piano tune ended, and the full band came together for a song Peter didn’t recognize. A couple of the flappers on the dance floor screamed and began to shimmy as it began, though, kicking out splayed legs as their partners whirled them around. Crystal dress beads caught the overhead chandeliers’ illumination and the floor picked up the dazzling lights, creating a display as dizzying as the music. Some of the dancers attempted to hold cocktail glasses. The floor would be sticky by the end of the long celebration.
    â€œThe crowd seems to like the piano player.”