Read Online The Ice Harvest by Scott Phillips - Free Book Online

she wore a very fine gold anklet, just below the swelling of her delicate right ankle and above the lip of her black pump, and Charlie became intensely conscious of his need to swallow, certain she could hear each dry gulp. “I heard a funny story about you tonight, Charlie.”
    “What was that?” He fought the urge to stare at her legs.
    “Heard you were waiving stage rentals. Comping dancers’ drinks. Not like you at all.”
    He swallowed again. “Who told you that?”
    “Doesn’t matter. What’ve you got for me?”
    He reached into his overcoat and withdrew the envelope. “Merry Christmas,” he said, handing it to her.
    She tore open the envelope, took in a sharp breath, and stared back at Charlie. Her jaw had gone slack, her lips just slightly parted. I finally got a rise out of you, he thought, and then she caught herself, clenching her teeth and narrowing her eyes. She held the negative by one sprocketed edge up to a floor lamp. “Christ, there he is. You don’t have a print of this, do you?”
    “No, but I’ve seen one and it’s clear as hell. See his left hand, where he’s gripping her wrist? You can see his wedding band, plain as day. You can just about read the fine print on the jar of Vaseline.”
    “God, right up Cupcake’s ass.” She squinted. “What’d this cost Bill?”
    “Photographer got two-fifty. Cupcake was supposed to get that, but she raised holy hell when she found out he wanted to go in the back way and Bill ended up having to give her four even.”
    Renata snorted. “Come on. Like she’s never taken a load up the ass before.”
    “Said she’d never done it except for love.”
    “Huh. Well, maybe it’s true. Takes all kinds.” She took the shade off the lamp and continued to appraise the negative, squinting against the naked bulb. “I guess my next question is what do you want in return?”
    “Nothing. It’s a Christmas present. Gerard isn’t operating in the city limits; he doesn’t need any leverage with the city commission.”
    “Come on, Charlie. Gerard’s not running a fucking charity. And I don’t see him or Vic here handing this to me. What’s your angle?”
    “No angle.”
    “Horseshit.” She sat back, uncrossed her legs, leaned forward with both feet planted on the floor in front of her and her hands on her knees. She studied Charlie for a moment, then leaned back again and recrossed her legs. The sound of nylon brushing across nylon gave him occasion to gulp again. Her legs were a quarter of a shade darker than her bare skin, and he pictured reaching out his hand and touching her knee, resting his hand on it, feeling the cool, sheer nylon and the warm knee beneath. She tilted her head to one side and looked him in the eye as though she’d just noticed him sitting there. “Either you’ve lost your mind or you’re about to skip town.”
    “No, I’m not.”
    “Had your hand in the till for a while, haven’t you?”
    “I gotta get going.” He started to stand.
    “Hold on.” She rose faster than he could have and pushed him back down into his chair with one long, slender hand. “I’m going to have to use this right away, and I mean Christmas Day, but afterward I’m going to have to be able to prove to Bill Gerard that I did this in good faith. Write me a letter turning the negative over to me and saying it was Gerard told you to do it.”
    Charlie was appalled. “Put it in writing?”
    “Gerard’s the only one who’ll ever see it. I’ll be in the clear with him and you’ll be long gone.” She put her hand to the side of his head. “This is very sweet of you, Charlie.” His face burned. She opened her desk and took out a sheet of paper and a pen.
Dear Renata,
Bill Gerard wants you to have this to use at your discretion.
Charlie Arglist
    He was seated behind her desk with her standing close behind him, her left breast pressing into his right shoulder blade and her arm around his other shoulder. “That’s good. Short and simple,”