She was older than Greg, but not much. Her skin was the colour of dark chocolate, and she wore a polka-dot dress and carried a clutch bag. She smiled broadly, showing white teeth, and said: ‘Hello, I’ve got the room next door.’
‘I figured that out,’ he said. ‘Who are you?’
‘Jacky Jakes.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m an actress.’
Greg shook hands with the second beautiful actress in an hour. Jacky had a playful look that Greg found more attractive than Gladys’s overpowering magnetism. Her mouth was a dark-pink bow. He said: ‘My dad said he had got me a gift – are you it?’
She giggled. ‘I guess I am. He said I would like you. He’s going to get me into the movies.’
Greg got the picture. His father had guessed that he might feel bad about being friendly with Gladys. Jacky was his reward for not making a fuss. He thought he probably ought to reject such a bribe, but he could not resist. ‘You’re a very nice gift,’ he said.
‘Your father’s real good to you.’
‘He’s wonderful,’ Greg said. ‘And so are you.’
‘Aren’t you sweet?’ She put her purse down on the dresser, stepped closer to Greg, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his mouth. Her lips were soft and warm. ‘I like you,’ she said. She felt his shoulders. ‘You’re strong.’
‘I play ice hockey.’
‘Makes a girl feel safe.’ She put both hands on his cheeks and kissed him again, longer, then she sighed and said: ‘Oh, boy, I think we’re going to have fun.’
‘Are we?’ Washington was a Southern city, still largely segregated. In Buffalo, white and black people could eat in the same restaurants and drink in the same bars, mostly, but here it was different. Greg was not sure what the laws were, but he felt certain that in practice a white man with a black woman would cause trouble. It was surprising to find Jacky occupying a room in this hotel: Lev must have fixed it. But certainly there was no question of Greg and Jacky swanning around town with Lev and Gladys in a foursome. So what did Jacky think they were going to do to have fun together? The amazing notion crossed his mind that she might be willing to go to bed with him.
He put his hands on her waist, to draw her to him for another kiss, but she pulled back. ‘I need to take a shower,’ she said. ‘Give me a few minutes.’ She turned and disappeared through the communicating door, closing it behind her.
He sat on the bed, trying to take it all in. Jacky wanted to act in movies, and it seemed she was willing to use sex to advance her career. She certainly was not the first actress, black or white, to use that strategy. Gladys was doing the same by sleeping with Lev. Greg and his father were the lucky beneficiaries.
He saw that she had left her clutch bag behind. He picked it up and tried the door. It was not locked. He stepped through.
She was on the phone, wearing a pink bathrobe. She said: ‘Yes, hunky-dory, no problem.’ Her voice seemed different, more mature, and he realized that with him she had been using a sexy-little-girl tone that was not natural. Then she saw him, smiled, and reverted to the girly voice as she said into the phone: ‘Please hold my calls. I don’t want to be disturbed. Thank you. Goodbye.’
‘You left this,’ said Greg, and handed her the purse.
‘You just wanted to see me in my bathrobe,’ she said coquettishly. The front of the robe did not entirely hide her breasts, and he could see an enchanting curve of flawless brown skin.
He grinned. ‘No, but I’m glad I did.’
‘Go back to your room. I have to shower. I might let you see more later.’
‘Oh, my God,’ he said.
He returned to his room. This was astonishing. ‘I might let you see more later,’ he repeated to himself aloud. What a thing for a girl to say!
He had a hard-on, but he did not want to jerk off when the real thing seemed so close. To take his mind off it, he went on unpacking. He had an expensive shaving kit, razor and brush with pearl handles, a present from his mother. He laid the things out in the bathroom, wondering whether they would impress Jacky if she saw them.
The walls were thin, and he heard the sound of running water from the next room. The thought of her body naked and wet possessed him. He tried to concentrate on arranging his underwear and socks in a drawer.
Then he heard her scream.
He froze. For a moment he was too surprised to move. What did it mean? Why would she yell out like that? Then she screamed again, and he was shocked into action. He threw open the communicating door and stepped into her room.
She was naked. He had never seen a naked woman in real life. She had pointed breasts with dark-brown tips. At her groin was a thatch of wiry black hair. She was cowering back against the wall, trying ineffectually to cover her nakedness with her hands.
Standing in front of her was Dave Rouzrokh, with twin scratches down his aristocratic cheek, presumably caused by Jacky’s pink-varnished nails. There was blood on the broad lapel of Dave’s double-breasted white jacket.
Jacky screamed: ‘Get him away from me!’
Greg swung a fist. Dave was an inch taller, but he was an old man, and Greg was an athletic teenager. The
