The Wife, the Maid, and the Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

and washed the ashes down the drain.
    Time to get back out there.
    Ritzi caught fragments of their hushed conversation as she approached the table. “Do you know how close Seabury is to figuring this thing out … And that damn reporter George Hall … Could kill whoever tipped him off … Have to leave town for a while.” Crater went silent when he caught sight of Ritzi.
    Crater shoved another glass of absinthe into her hand as soon as she sat down. Ritzi already felt dizzy and nauseated, and what she really wanted was a steak and hot rolls with butter and then a piece of chocolate cake as big as her fist. Real food. Something she rarely got the chance to consume.
    Ritzi wrapped her hands around the absinthe to stop them from trembling. She winked at Crater. “Look at Billy licking that glass.”
    “Never heard him called that before.”
    “I nickname all you boys. Isn’t that right, Billy?” Ritzi had caught the ain’t on its way out of her mouth and swallowed it with a sip. She set her glass on the table. Grimaced. Wiped her palms on her lap and then laced her fingers together.
    Klein slid a littler closer and patted her thigh. “You can call me whatever you want, baby doll. But for the record, it’s not the glass I want to lick.”
    “What do you call me?” Joseph Crater asked.
    Uncircumcised donkey pizzle . Ritzi grinned, lopsided and charming. “Your Honor .”
    Crater waved for the bartender. “Put this on my tab,” he said when Stan arrived.
    Stan shot a glance at the corner booth. “Did Owney clear you for that?”
    “Do I look stupid enough to try a stunt like that if he hadn’t?”
    Stan smiled apologetically. “Just checking.”
    Ritzi followed Crater and Klein out the front door and up the steps onto the sidewalk. They stood in the waxy light and searched the street for a cab.
    Crater tipped his hat to Klein. “Probably won’t see you until session starts. Headed back to Maine first thing in the morning.”
    “And tonight?” He spoke to Crater but looked at Ritzi.
    “We’re off to see Dancing Partner .”
    “Again? It wasn’t that great the first time.”
    “That was Atlantic City. Thought I’d see if they worked out the kinks for the Broadway run. Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”
    Depends on who you ask , Ritzi thought.
    Crater stepped into the street to hail a passing cab. The whistle was shrill, and heads turned up and down the block.
    Klein pulled Ritzi in for a hug as Crater’s back was turned. “Why don’t you come over to my place when Joe’s done with you?” He ran a finger down her spine, and slipped it inside her open-backed dress, seeking territory farther down.
    “You’re not my type.”
    “Word on the street is that you have a price tag, not a type.”
    She stepped away, repulsed. “Apparently, you spend too much time on the street.”
    “With the right connections, you could lead on Broadway. A girl likeyou is too pretty to stay in the chorus line.” Klein shifted away as Crater came back to fetch Ritzi. “Keep that in mind.”
    HEAT still radiated from the pavement in waves, even though the sun had set almost two hours earlier. The temperature neared one hundred degrees that day, and with nary a breeze, fire hydrants were loosed, turning streets into shower baths. Fountains were commandeered citywide as adults and children alike rolled up their pants and splashed with mass indignity.
    “To the Belasco Theater,” Crater told the cabdriver. He slid into the backseat next to Ritzi, their thighs touching.
    The cab eased away from the curb and melted into traffic, keeping in the right lane. Several minutes later, it rolled to a stop in front of the Belasco. A black Cadillac pulled up beside them and emptied its passengers onto the sidewalk. Ritzi watched the pale disks of two straw Panama hats disappear into the theater. People rushed by on the sidewalk, all of them dressed for a night on the town.
    “Wait here,” Crater told her.
    Ritzi watched him jog