face paled somewhat. “Don’t go yet.” Jumping up, she caught his arm. “I need to talk to you.”
India rose, too. “Well, I don’t. You’re coming to the party, right? We can talk more there.”
Cassie nodded. “I’ll be along.”
“I won’t be,” Jimmy muttered.
“Got it.” Cassie motioned for him to come in, and closed the door. “I like you, Jimmy. I consider you a friend, and I stick by my friends. If somebody’s out to get you fired or something, I’m on your side. I mean it. Is that clear?”
“Thanks, Miss Casey.”
“You’re scared about something. If it’s India I can fix it, but I don’t think it is. What is it?”
“Nothing, Miss Casey. Honest. Everything’s fine. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
“Just that he gave me a hundred to come up and tell you he was waiting. Waiting, and he’s got this present for you. Something really nice, he says.”
Cassie slapped her dressing table, jarring four jars. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t accept gifts from men I don’t know. There are a thousand guys out there who give you something and feel like they’ve bought you. If I know the man, maybe I’ll take his gift and maybe I won’t. If I don’t know him, forget it.”
Jimmy nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
“Great. Next point. If he wants his hundred back, tell him you earned it. You found me and told me about him and his gift, and that’s what you promised to do. You can’t deliver me like a package. Nobody can. Call the cops if he gets ugly.”
Jimmy did not nod.
“Last point. What did he look like? Did he give you any kind of name? First name? Nickname? Anything?”
Jimmy shook his head. “He just gave me a hundred—it’s a hundred-dollar bill, I could show you—and said to tell you he was waiting for you with a nice present.”
“What did he look like?”
“I couldn’t see him very well, Miss Casey.” Jimmy was backing toward the door. “It was real dark.”
“Big? Small?”
“Big. He sounded big.” Jimmy turned, almost bumping into Margaret.
Then he was gone, walking away so quickly that Cassie suspected he would have run, had he still been capable of running.
“Here’s your change, Miss Casey. Is everything all right?” Margaret was carrying a white paper bag.
“No.” Cassie dropped into a chair. “Things are not all right. Far from it. You got the coffee and sandwich?”
“Yes, Miss Casey. Sweetener, no cream. Hot pastrami on rye.”
“Good. Let me have ’em. There’ll be food at the party, but I’ll be talking to people and it’s . . . an hour and twenty minutes. Besides, we don’t want to be there when it starts. Half an hour late should do it. You’re coming?” Cassie had opened the white bag and was looking over her sandwich.
“Thousand island,” Margaret told her. “It’s what you said, Miss Casey.”
“Right. They should’ve used more. Tell them next time, if you’re working for me. What about the party?”
“I don’t think I’m invited, Miss Casey.”
“Phooey. They didn’t give you a straw?”
Margaret shook her head.
“You should have asked for one. Preserves the makeup. I don’t have lots of money, Margaret. If I hire you, we may hit a place where I can’t keep paying you. You’ll be free to split, of course. But that may not be long. I don’t know.”
Margaret smiled. It was a very small smile but a smile just the same, a tiny candle lit in her colorless face. “I know how it is in show business, Miss Casey. I’ve been doing this quite a time.”
“Good. I’ll pay you eight hundred a week. That’s firm. Do a good job, and you’ll get raises. But eight hundred to start. Want it?”
Margaret hesitated. “I wasn’t . . . Miss Cabana owes me back pay, Miss Casey. It’s over three thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know how I could put the arm on her.” Cassie gave it a few seconds’ thought. “But I’ll do it if I can figure a way.”
“If you could just let me have the
India rose, too. “Well, I don’t. You’re coming to the party, right? We can talk more there.”
Cassie nodded. “I’ll be along.”
“I won’t be,” Jimmy muttered.
“Got it.” Cassie motioned for him to come in, and closed the door. “I like you, Jimmy. I consider you a friend, and I stick by my friends. If somebody’s out to get you fired or something, I’m on your side. I mean it. Is that clear?”
“Thanks, Miss Casey.”
“You’re scared about something. If it’s India I can fix it, but I don’t think it is. What is it?”
“Nothing, Miss Casey. Honest. Everything’s fine. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
“Just that he gave me a hundred to come up and tell you he was waiting. Waiting, and he’s got this present for you. Something really nice, he says.”
Cassie slapped her dressing table, jarring four jars. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t accept gifts from men I don’t know. There are a thousand guys out there who give you something and feel like they’ve bought you. If I know the man, maybe I’ll take his gift and maybe I won’t. If I don’t know him, forget it.”
Jimmy nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
“Great. Next point. If he wants his hundred back, tell him you earned it. You found me and told me about him and his gift, and that’s what you promised to do. You can’t deliver me like a package. Nobody can. Call the cops if he gets ugly.”
Jimmy did not nod.
“Last point. What did he look like? Did he give you any kind of name? First name? Nickname? Anything?”
Jimmy shook his head. “He just gave me a hundred—it’s a hundred-dollar bill, I could show you—and said to tell you he was waiting for you with a nice present.”
“What did he look like?”
“I couldn’t see him very well, Miss Casey.” Jimmy was backing toward the door. “It was real dark.”
“Big? Small?”
“Big. He sounded big.” Jimmy turned, almost bumping into Margaret.
Then he was gone, walking away so quickly that Cassie suspected he would have run, had he still been capable of running.
“Here’s your change, Miss Casey. Is everything all right?” Margaret was carrying a white paper bag.
“No.” Cassie dropped into a chair. “Things are not all right. Far from it. You got the coffee and sandwich?”
“Yes, Miss Casey. Sweetener, no cream. Hot pastrami on rye.”
“Good. Let me have ’em. There’ll be food at the party, but I’ll be talking to people and it’s . . . an hour and twenty minutes. Besides, we don’t want to be there when it starts. Half an hour late should do it. You’re coming?” Cassie had opened the white bag and was looking over her sandwich.
“Thousand island,” Margaret told her. “It’s what you said, Miss Casey.”
“Right. They should’ve used more. Tell them next time, if you’re working for me. What about the party?”
“I don’t think I’m invited, Miss Casey.”
“Phooey. They didn’t give you a straw?”
Margaret shook her head.
“You should have asked for one. Preserves the makeup. I don’t have lots of money, Margaret. If I hire you, we may hit a place where I can’t keep paying you. You’ll be free to split, of course. But that may not be long. I don’t know.”
Margaret smiled. It was a very small smile but a smile just the same, a tiny candle lit in her colorless face. “I know how it is in show business, Miss Casey. I’ve been doing this quite a time.”
“Good. I’ll pay you eight hundred a week. That’s firm. Do a good job, and you’ll get raises. But eight hundred to start. Want it?”
Margaret hesitated. “I wasn’t . . . Miss Cabana owes me back pay, Miss Casey. It’s over three thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know how I could put the arm on her.” Cassie gave it a few seconds’ thought. “But I’ll do it if I can figure a way.”
“If you could just let me have the
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