CHAPTER FIVE

The last person Bess expected to see when she left her office a few days later was Rosalie. Even in the bustling crowds of midtown, the woman stood out. After a moment of blank surprise, Bess smiled and crossed the sidewalk.

“Hi. Were you waiting for me?”

“Yeah.”

“You should have come in.” Bess adjusted the weight of her bag and briefcase.

“I figured it would be better for you if I waited out here.”

“Don’t be silly…” Her words trailed off as she tried to see through and around Rosalie’s huge tinted glasses. Those sunburst colors around the left eye weren’t all cosmetics. Bess’s friendly smile faded. “What happened to you?”

Rosalie shrugged. “Bobby. He was a little ticked off about the other night.”

“That’s despicable.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Bastard.” She said it between her teeth, but overlying her fury was a terrible sense of guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was my fault.”

“Ain’t nobody’s fault, girlfriend. Just the way things are.”

“It’s not the way they should be. And if I hadn’t…” She let that go, knowing you could only go back and change things in scripts. “Do you want to go to the police? I’ll go with you. We could—”

“Hell, no.” Rosalie let out what passed for a laugh. “I’d get a lot worse than a sore eye if I tried that. And if you think there’s a cop alive who gives a damn about a hooker with a black eye, you are as dumb as you look.”

Alex would care, Bess thought. She refused to believe otherwise. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

Rosalie pulled out a cigarette, cocking her hip as she lit it. “Listen, you said you’d pay me to talk. I figure I can use the extra money. And I’m on my own time.”

“All right.” Ideas were beginning to stir. “How much do you average a night?”

As a matter of course, Rosalie started to inflate it, but found the lie stuck in her throat. “After Bobby takes his cut, about seventy-five. Maybe a hundred. Business isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“We’ll talk.” Distracted, Bess searched for a cab. “We’ll never get a taxi at this hour,” she mumbled. “I live uptown about twenty blocks. Do you mind walking?”

This time Rosalie laughed full and long. “Girl, walking the streets comes natural to me.”

Once they reached Bess’s apartment, Rosalie tipped down her shaded glasses and whistled. Unable to resist, she walked to one of the wide windows. She could see a swatch of the East River through other buildings. The sound of traffic was so muted, it was almost musical. A far cry from the clatter and roar she lived with every day.

“My, oh, my, you do live high.”

“How about dinner?” Automatically Bess stepped out of her shoes. “We’ll order in.” Red meat, Bess thought. At the moment, she could have eaten it raw. “Sit down, I’ll get us some wine.”

Wine, Rosalie thought as she stretched out on the plump cushions of the pit. She figured that sounded just dandy. “You pay for all this just writing stuff?”