“Who else have I seen you dancing with, other than a line of chorus girls?”
“You got it wrong, Archie. Didn’t Ezekiel explain?”
“I didn’t ask him. I’m asking you.”
This was not the conversation Honoree had expected. Archie acted like he was stuck on her. “My parents worked for his parents, and we met each other when we were children. The only thing between us is the past. Years ago.”
“Liar.” He picked up his burning cigar from the ashtray. But his fingers twitched, and uncertainty staggered his speech. What was going on with him? He blew a cloud of smoke. “Telling lies is in your blood.”
“I don’t lie.”
Archie lowered his head, collecting himself it seemed. Was he speaking the truth? Did Archie care about her?
When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and unquestionably sad. “You were necking on the dance floor, but you say there’s nothing between you and Ezekiel.” He chugged his drink and poured another. “That boy wants to fuck you. And almost did in front of my customers and me—”
“Don’t use that kind of language. I hate that word. And you’re wrong. He was drunk, and—and I told him to keep his hands off me, and he did.”
A vein in Archie’s forehead became as thick as a piece of rope. “You do me a disservice, Honoree. Always have. Been stuck on you since I found you in the trunk of my automobile. All the things I’ve done for you, I did because of how I feel about you.”
Honoree sank into her seat. “You don’t care about me, not that way. You care about making money and policy gambling. You and I laid together three times two years ago—and haven’t talked about it since. Christ, Archie, you trust me to fix the math in your accounting books and to dance on your stage six nights a week, but that’s all there is between us.”
“Look at you. Got me all figured out. We started in a bad way. I know that, but things have changed.”
“Damn it, Archie. You hit me. Slapped me across the face when I told you I no longer needed your help with my rent. I made enough money dancing to pay my bills.” She gripped the arms of the chair. “That got you mad enough to slam the spit out of my mouth.”
“Sure. I lost my temper, but I could’ve fired you.” He walked around the desk and stood in front of her. “The way you two were hugged up, brought back memories. Memories of me being the one you used to wrap your arms around.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “I ain’t got no control over my memories.”
He sipped his drink. “I didn’t need Trudy telling me one goddamn thing about that audition. I knew.”
“What do you mean you knew about the audition?”
“The news reached Miss Hattie’s from the Stroll that afternoon. When you left Friday night, I called Will Buttons and made a deal upfront.”
“What kind of deal?” Honoree said weakly.
“A simple deal. Buttons agreed to a loan. If they hired you, he’d introduce me to the right people in exchange for you dancing at the Dreamland for a while.” He chuckled. “And don’t give me those large sad eyes, sugar. You should’ve known getting away from me wouldn’t be that easy.”
The emptiness inside her belly, her chest, was a valley of dead leaves. Up and down. Every time she had a shot at the good, the bad was on its heels. And now, Archie was telling her the unbelievable.
A sudden laugh spewed from his lips.
“What’s so funny?” She rose from her chair, needing to feel solid ground under both of her feet. “What the hell is so funny?”
“I’m not telling you shit until you sit down.”
“No.” She stepped toward the desk.
“Sit down, or I’ll break your leg.”
Trembling, she lowered herself into the chair. And this was how he showed his love. “Thank you.”
Choking down his laugh, he cocked his head at her. “For what?”
“For showing me the Archie I know.”
Archie crossed the distance between them and seized her by the shoulders. “I do care for you.”
“Let go. You’re hurting me.”
