THE DEVILS DIME Read Online Free PDF

then swept it back out to the audience of diners.
    Her long fingers curved delicately as she brought the hand gracefully to her heart and dropped her head slightly. The amethyst glittered prettily against her high-necked white shirtwaist.
    Pride. Gratitude. Humility. Jess saw all three communicated in her stance and gestures. But her eyes were alive with fire and challenge. Like a warrior who’d just proven his worth on the battlefield.
    Jess tore his eyes away from her and caught a dollop of whipped potatoes that was about to slide off his cuff. He’d best repair the damage he’d done to his coat sleeve before he tried to meet the girl.
    But he would meet her. The passionate musician with the blazing eyes and piles of auburn twists had captivated him. He wanted to know her story.
    He dipped the linen napkin into his water goblet and took enough stabs at the most stubborn gravy spots to remove the worst. Satisfied that he could walk across the room without leaving a trail of mashed spuds in his wake, he stood, dropped the napkin on the table, and turned toward the orchestra.
    But he was too late. Even though the music still seemed to be bouncing off the walls, the players’ chairs were vacant. At the keyboard tucked into a corner of the room an old fellow was already slipping into a Viennese waltz.
    . . .
     
    Adelaide Magee wasted no time getting from the hotel to her apartment. She was exhausted.
    Six hours at the bank and four hours playing at the hotel made for excruciatingly long days. Days that most young women her age wouldn’t put up with.
    But the smile that lingered on Addie’s face proved that it was just the kind of day she relished. Her Avalon Strings , the women’s orchestra she’d put together in a mere two months, had been more ardently received than she had dared dream.
    It was that plucky bunch of girls that had made it happen.
    “Look like St. Agnes and play like Beelzebub and we might get our foot in the door,” she’d said at their first rehearsal. And they’d taken it to heart.
    The hardest part had been finding a performance venue. But the manager of the Warwick Hotel who’d been so staunchly opposed to women entertainers was now begging her to extend their contract from three weeks to three months.
    Addie dropped her hair brush onto the vanity and checked her starched cuffs. Still clean. She’d wear them tomorrow. But the shirtwaist would have to be rinsed out. She hoped no one had seen the gauzy fabric sticking to her sweaty shoulders when she played the gypsy piece.
    Particularly not the handsome fellow who sat alone near the kitchen. She’d botched three full measures when he made visual contact with her, drilled her with his eyes that she’d decided were cobalt blue. Not that she could really tell from that distance, but what other color could have made them so piercing?
    Knowing a man watched her was nothing new. But his wasn’t the usual leer to which she’d become accustomed. This fellow’s gaze held intelligence. And surprise.
    Addie caught the look on her own face and laughed at the mirror. Well, it had been surprise on his face. And she liked that. Liked it very much.
    Addie twirled the cuffs on a lazy finger and realized she wanted to see him again. Not just because he filled out his western-cut suit coat so admirably. But because something tangible had lived in the space between them while their eyes were locked. Whatever it was, she wasn’t ready to name it just yet. It was just...something.
    She dropped the cuffs into the cuff box on top of her dresser and poured a pitcher of water into the white porcelain bowl. One quick chore and she could crawl into bed.
    Addie plucked an errant curl off her brow and vowed she’d find a better room with running water before summer. If the Warwick really wanted to keep her string group on contract, that might actually be possible.
    She rubbed a stubborn spot in the wet fabric and promised herself she’d double her wardrobe as well.