Vivian folded the papers absently over each other, not sure what to do now. She cleared her throat, her fingers worrying at the edges before she found her calm again and managed to smile. “I should… I suppose I’ll take off.”
Honor had begun tidying the mess of her desk once more, but she glanced up and nodded. “Go get a drink. And have a dance. You’ll feel better afterward.” She gestured broadly, her arm sweeping across the whole office as she shook her head. “I have to go through things here and make sure Mr. Carlton didn’t get into anything else. And Vivian?”
Vivian, her hand on the door, turned back, waiting.
“I’ll find him,” Honor said quietly.
Vivian shrugged, her defensive walls firmly back in place. “Sure. See you around, I guess.”
That made Honor smile. “Count on it, pet. I’m looking forward to our next waltz.”
TWENTY-SIX
When she got back to the main room, the band was swinging their way through “Sister Kate” and the dance floor was full. Vivian glanced around, hoping to find Bea on a break, but it was a busy night. All the waitresses were running their feet off. Instead, she squeezed her way between shoulders until she found an open stool at the bar.
Danny caught her eye when she scooted her way up, and gave her a quick smile. There was an edge of concern to it, though—maybe her poker face wasn’t as good as she thought. He flipped a towel over his shoulder and poured the last of a champagne bottle into a glass as he came to where Vivian was waiting.
“Since you didn’t get any of the bottle I sent,” he said quietly, sliding it across the bar to her. “You okay?”
She scowled. “How do you know?”
“Leo told me what happened. He’s gone now,” Danny added as she swung around.
Vivian turned back, wishing she hadn’t been so obvious. “I don’tcare,” she said too quickly. Leo deserved everything she said to him, hadn’t he? He had lied to her. But Honor was the one who had put her in danger. And she had agreed to it. Vivian gulped down a mouthful of champagne, coughing as the bubbles struck the back of her throat. “Anyway, I’m fine.”
“You will be,” Danny agreed. “Carlton won’t bother you again. Hux’ll take care of it.”
“Wish I were better at taking care of myself,” Vivian said. Scowling into her glass, she added, “Wish I knew how to throw a punch like you.”
Danny chuckled. “Thinking of that alley brawl? I had to learn how to fight young.” He raised his eyes, taking in the men filling the club with a cynical smile. “Too many people think it’s okay to use a Chinese fella as a punching bag. Some need a lot of discouraging.”
“Your dad taught you, then?” Vivian took a slower sip of her drink this time.
Danny shook his head. “Leo did, back when we were kids. We lived on opposite sides of Bowery, and I jumped into a fight with him and some other Hester Street boys when I was ten. I’d’ve got the stuffing kicked out of me, but Leo said he’d teach me how to punch first so it was a fair fight, and then we could get back to it.”
The mention of Leo made Vivian scowl again. She wondered if he had mentioned his friend’s name on purpose, just to see how she would react. She wondered what he thought of how she had. “Danny… what do you know about him?”
“About Leo?” The bartender shrugged. “Not much, these days.”
“Is he a good person?” she asked quietly, running a finger along the edge of her glass.
He shrugged again. “Are any of us good people here, Viv?”
“You are.”
“I’m nice,” Danny said, shaking his head. “That’s not the same thing. I know what it takes for Hux to stay in business.”
Vivian tried not to shiver. She was getting an idea of what it took forHonor to stay in business, too, and finally realizing how much Danny’s devil-may-care attitude might hide.
The Nightingale had given her glamor and fun and music that she could lose herself in. She had danced in and out, carefree and careless, without asking what it took for that world to exist.
“And I’d help her out with anything she asked me. So no.” Danny smiled. Instead of his usual flirtatious grin, his expression was a little sad. “I’m not that good either. You probably shouldn’t spend as much time with me as you do,” he added, playful again. “You’re too sweet for us here.”
“I’m not that sweet,” Vivian protested. “And I’m not that good.”
Danny studied her. “You are when it counts, Viv. I hope you don’t lose that.” He turned away from her as another customer approached the bar. “What’s your poison, kitten?”
The newcomer was Mags, transformed once again from innocent society girl to daring baby vamp, her hair pinned up into a faux bob and held back with a sparkling headband that, Vivian now realized, might be real diamonds. “Bubbles and gin, please. Vivian, you promised to introduce us for real.”
