Ingenue Read Online Free PDF

She had spent the evening alone, listening to records and rearranging the two chairs and couch—she called it a davenport, because that just sounded better—in her new apartment on East Twelfth Street.
    Lorraine looked up and saw Cecil smiling at her from across the bar. “Dante giving you much trouble?”
    “Nothing I can’t handle.” There had been a time when Cecil’s flirtatious attention would have had her dashing out to the alley for some necking. But since that fateful night at the Cloak & Dagger months earlier, Lorraine was swearing off bartenders jusqu’elle … jusqu’à nouvous … however that went. She was swearing off them until further notice . She maybe shouldn’t have tossed her French textbook in the trash on graduation day. Tant pis!
    “So, we ready to open officially for the night?” Cecil asked.
    “Yep. I’ve just gotta make sure the village idiot is ready, too.”
    “Hey now, Spark’s a good egg. His mama just dropped him on his head one too many times when he was a kid.”
    “You ask me, his mom should’ve dropped him a few more times and done us all a favor.”
    A group of giggling women with feathered headbands descended the stairs. “Here we go,” Cecil said as he poured vodka into two shot glasses. “Time for one quick belt, if you’re up for it.”
    Lorraine stared at the shot glass, filled to the brim with throat-burning, world-fuzzying, wonderful, beautiful liquor. A drink would be pos-i-lute-ly lovely, but … she couldn’t risk even the slightest bit of foggy-headedness at this job. If she messed anything up, it would get back to Puccini. And then Puccini would send a telegram to their mutual friend back in Chicago. And then Carlito would come to New York and teach Lorraine a lesson.
    Cecil could drink and work, but not Lorraine. She pushed it away. “Don’t tempt me.”
    Cecil threw back both shots, one after the other. “I guess you’ll have to be responsible enough for the both of us.”
    Lorraine remembered sitting next to Carlito in his reserved booth when he’d told her his plans for her. It was a few weeks before graduation, and Lorraine had become a regular at the Green Mill. Carlito paid her to hang around and be a pretty face for the male patrons to look at. It was easy peasy work, made Lorraine feel desired, and gave her something to do after all her so-called friends had abandoned her. And she kind-of-sort-of liked Carlito.
    The thing she’d tried to explain to anyone who would listen was that Carlito was very attractive. Not just handsome—though his slicked-back hair and dark eyes were good-looking enough—but powerful and fearless. She had no idea whether Carlito was actually strong, but everyone treated him as if he could break a person with a snap of his fingers. It was a little bit frightening and a lot sexy. Lorraine had never met someone so young who seemed so confident and dangerous.
    “So,” Carlito had said, shuffling a few poker chips through his fingers, “you’re leaving for New York and Barnard soon, isn’t that right, Lorraine?”
    She narrowed her eyes. Maybe she mentioned Barnard a lot—it was a big-deal school, and people needed to know that she was a smart cookie—but she didn’t think she’d said anything to Carlito. And why would she have? Her deal had been to work for him at the Green Mill until graduation. And then she could go back to how her life was supposed to be.
    “Maybe at the end of the summer,” she said.
    Carlito laughed and draped his arm around her. “I’ve gotten very attached to you these past few months, doll. You work hard, and you’re feisty. Perfect for a position I’m looking to fill over the summer.”
    “No thanks, Carlito, I—”
    He patted her thigh. “So I guess you don’t want Jerome Johnson and what’s-her-face, that Gloria dame, to pay for what they did to you?”
    She almost sprayed her drink all over him. Gloria. She hadn’t heard that name since Jerome had run off with