Trudy stepped out of thepress of people and handed Celeste their coat check tickets. “Comeon let’s find a table.”
They ascended the stairs tothe second tier.Tables toppedwith snow-white tablecloths hugged brass railings or werewedged into half-moonshaped booths. Allof them had anexcellent view of the dance floor and the elevated stage.
Celeste tried walking aheadof him, but Shane’s long-legged stride kept pace with hers. Andhe walked so close, his arm brushing hers anyone could easily mistakethem for a couple. Celeste peeked up at him. What would it be likebelonging to? Probably be a dizzying ride, Celeste mused, justlooking at him made her head spin.
It would be like penniesfrom heaven, Celeste mused.
Well, until her demons camebetween them. Andthey alwaysdidat the first inkling of emotion. So,she stopped caring altogether.
Celeste tried rememberingthe last time she’d dredged up real affection for anyone. Allshe came up with were a dozen nameless faces whichblended into a disposable blob.
What about Ralph?
Surely she’d been inlove with him. They’d beenengaged. Afterone of her performance, he’d gotten down on one knee andproposed. Celeste frowned. Ralph was theonly manshe’d ever come close to feeling love for. He’dalso been the one who’d robbed her of the useless emotion.
Celeste’s stepsslowed.
“Telegram for aMiss Celeste Newsome?”
A young boy of no morethan sixteen stoodoutside her and Trudy’s flat.
“That’s her,”Trudydrawled with a sultry timbre thatcould only belong to a seasonedsinger.“I’mjust her humble servant.”
Celestewalked over as best as she could. Dressed in full bridal regalia,the going was rather difficult. Thefitted sheath coveredher in an expanse of unforgivingcreamysatin from the high-laced collar to the edges of the poplin sleeves.
If shegained an ounce before the wedding, she’d find herself in bigtrouble and out of a dress. Good thing she was headlining at thePlantation House five nights a week.
“You two look likea wedding cake topper,” he murmured.
Celesteglanced over at Trudy and chuckled. Decked outin a pair of black trousers, a pair of jaunty suspendersand awhite, freshly ironed dress shirt rolled up at the elbows, allher cousin needed was a top hat instead of the colorfulheadscarf wrapped around herhead.
“Iapologize for being unprofessional.” Embarrassed, the boydropped his head.Hislips moved as if he were chastising himself.
Withher innate ability to put people at ease, she chucked him under thechin. “You have my attention, so what’s your business,handsome?”
Theboy tipped his head at an angle and smiled. “I have a telegramfor you.”
“Iheard,” Celeste held out her hand. When he didn’timmediately respond, she wiggled her fingers. “Come on, I won’tbite,” she coaxed.
“She won’t,”Trudy corroborated as she leaned against the door jamb, “you’retoo young for her taste.”
Flustered,the boy shoved his hand inside his messenger bag, pulled out ayellow telegram, andthen handedit to her.
“Couldyou tip him for me, Tru? My purse is upstairs.” Celeste turnedthe missive over in her hands.Her name was neatly typed on the outside.
“Don’t peopleknow there’s a Depression going on?” Hercousin grumbled.Still, she greased the boy’s palm with a couple of nickels.
“Are you expectingsome news?”Trudymumbled, her lips now firmly clamped around several dressing pins.Before the interruption, she’d been on her knees hemmingCeleste’s wedding dress.
Clueless,Celestefrowned.“It’s probably just someone reserving for nextSaturday.”
“Well, you can readit while I finish up. Now come on.” Trudy shooed her back overto thefootstool.
Backon her elevated pedestal, Celestesurveyed the parlor’sdiscordant condition.It lookedlike Macy’s department store had exploded, littering thesitting areawith tissue paper, discarded boxes, her wedding pattern, pots andpans, curtains, cutlery, and other essentials for the new flat sheand Ralph would share after the nuptials.
Celeste smiled.Mrs. RalphLong,she liked the ring of it! Unmindfulof how her life was about to change, she tore into the envelope.
Celeste,
I know what you did STOP Thewedding is off STOP Do not bother looking for me or trying to explainSTOP Upon the personal invitation of Beatrice Gerard
I’m leaving town andjoining up with her troupe for anextended tourof Europe STOP Thewedding is off STOP.
RalphLong
Celeste reread thetelegram several times before crumpling the yellow parchment betweennumb fingers.
A sudden wave of nauseaswept over her and she swayed slightly. She sucked in a calmingbreath as her eyes searched for a visual spot.
She focused on Trudy,hunched over, working at her feet, her hands busily threading theskirt’s hem.
“St-st-stop!”Celeste stammered, then louder, “STOP!”
Trudy peered up at her.“What’s gotten into you?”
“I said stop.”When her cousin didn’t move fast enough, Celeste wrenched thehem from Trudy’s startled hands. “No good,” sherattled, while clawing at the dress’s high neckline. “Neverany good”
Trudy staggered back.“Celeste what’s wrong?”
Celeste didn’t stopuntil she stood in the middle of the parlor in nothing but her slipand stockings, the telegram still clutched in one hand.
Hesitant and for goodreason, Trudy stepped forward and pulled the telegram from herclenched fist. Her cousin scanned the missive.
“Oh my,” shewhispered and Celeste almost lost it. “Sugar foot, are youokay?” she asked as she shoved the telegram in her back pantspocket.
Met with silence, hercousin tried wrapping a comforting arm around Celeste’sshoulders.
Celeste retreated to thebay window overlooking Amsterdam Avenue.
“What’s thebig deal?” A laugh sliced down Celeste’s throat. “Ralphrealized he wasn’t man enough for me,” she replied alittle too brightly. “Better now than later, right?"
“Maybe you two canwork things out,” Trudy offered. “You have enough moneysaved up you can meet him in Europe.”
And take the chance hemight want her back? She didn’t have the balls to tell Trudyshe’d cracked like an egg under pressure. That she’dintentionally drove her fiancé away because she couldn’tunderstand how someone could love her when her own daddy never did.
Celesteturned her back on her cousin and startedre-packingthe vestiges of a life she didn’t deserve.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Here we are.”Trudy plucked the reserved sign from a table sitting stage left. Asall of them took their seats, Trudy frowned. “The view’sthe pits.” Setat an odd angle,parallel to thestage, viewing wouldbe less thanoptimal. “I can see if Pope can
