“Ellie!” she hissed at another waitress heading toward the bar. Shoving her tray into Ellie’s hands, she whispered quick directions as she took Ellie’s own empty tray.
“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked, frowning in confusion. “You look all balled up.”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. They tip real good.”
“Then what—”
Vivian didn’t wait for Ellie to finish. She didn’t think about Leo watching her from across the room or whether Danny would notice her ducking out on her already interrupted shift. She had to get out of there.
She made a beeline for the back hall, dropping her tray onto the end of the bar without letting anyone catch her eye. Out in the hall, the air was cooler than the sweaty heat of the dance floor, but the music still flowed out in a dark, sultry tumble of notes. The door of the ladies’ powder room swung open as a crowd of laughing girls spilled into the hall, shoulders bare and lipstick freshly painted in bright, challenging flourishes of color. They barely noticed her; Vivian dodged around them, head ducked down, and hurried toward the back door.
It wasn’t locked; it rarely was during business hours, since it opened only onto a cramped trash-pile of an alley. You could leave—orenter—that way if you were determined to find your way through the maze of streets that it joined. But mostly the Nightingale’s patrons came there for a breath of air on a sweaty night.
The cold sent goose bumps chasing across Vivian’s skin, and the light from inside skittered ahead of her. But she didn’t want light just then any more than she wanted company. She let the door slam shut, leaving her in the slinking, moonlit shadows. It was heavy on purpose, cutting off the sound of the Nightingale from anyone who wasn’t supposed to know it was there. But the city itself was never silent. Vivian closed her eyes, arms wrapped around herself as she listened to the distant sounds of animals fighting, a baby wailing, the tinny strains of a jazz record spilling from someone’s open window.
The city didn’t care that a man had been stabbed to death that morning. It wouldn’t care if she was arrested for his murder and was never part of its endless noise again.
Good thing she was used to looking after herself.
At last, Vivian took a deep breath, her smiling mask ready to slide back into place for the rest of her shift. But before she could turn the knob, the door swung open. Vivian had to skip back, nearly turning an ankle, so it wouldn’t hit her.
“Careful!” she gasped, one hand out to catch her balance on the alley wall as the dark silhouette of a man filled the doorway. “Watch where you’re…”
She trailed off as he stepped forward, the shadows growing less severe and the dim light of the alley sliding across his face like a warning.
“Watch where I’m going?” Cornelius Rokesby asked. When he let the door fall closed, the sound of the latch catching was the loudest thing Vivian had ever heard. Without meaning to, she took another step back. “Golly, that’s good advice, sweetheart. Shame someone didn’t give it to you before you ran out here.” He glanced around the alley, then turned back to her. The smile that pulled at one corner of his mouth made her stomach drop. “All by yourself.”
NINE
Vivian swallowed, eyes darting around. He was between her and the door, and while the alley wasn’t a dead end, it was narrow and crowded. If she tried to run, odds were he’d be on her before she went more than a few steps. And with how loud it was inside, no one would hear her if she called for help. Besides, for all she knew, his friends were waiting on the other side of that door. She was as good as cornered, and they both knew it.
Vivian swallowed down a wave of fear. She’d been in tighter jams before. She had to keep her head. And she couldn’t let him know how afraid she was. She was just fixing a soothing smile on her face when he reached into his jacket. Vivian flinched away, then stared in confusion as he held out a dollar bill.
“I’ve got some questions for you, doll. So stop twitching and don’t think about trying to run. I’m not budging, okay?”
It took Vivian a moment to find her voice. “What kind of questions?”
“This is that Huxley woman’s place, right? And you work for her.”
There was a curl to his lip as he looked her over, dismissive and superior. But he spoke a little too fast, the edges of his words sharp and his eyes darting around. He wasn’t quite as sure of himself as he wanted to seem.
“Looks that way,” Vivian said slowly. “But I don’t have anything to say—”
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but you’re a dumb bird if you’re going to turn down cold cash,” he said impatiently. “So—”
“You don’t know me?” Vivian demanded, unable to stop herself. She wanted to sag against the wall with relief. If he wasn’t there for her, had he just stumbled into the Nightingale by accident? But then what kind of questions could he have? And how did he know who Honor was? “Then why are we out here?”
“I already said, I’ve got some questions for you,” he said, snapping his fingers at her. “Keep up, I haven’t got all night. Are you going to answer them or not?”
“That depends.” Vivian took another step back as he moved forward, wanting some distance between them. But she didn’t take her eyes off him. He was still between her and the door. He still had half a foot of height on her, and he was jumpy as a drunk flea. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Corny, right? That’s what your pals called you.”
“You’re not my pal.”
“I could be,” Vivian said, giving him a smile. “What could a girl like me tell a fella like you that he doesn’t already know? We might as well go back inside and see about getting you another drink, on the house. You’re wasting your time with me.”
He laughed, crossing his arms. “You think I’m dumb enough to just believe whatever a pretty girl tells me?”
“Trying to sweet-talk me, Corny?” Vivian asked, giving him a smile. She was shaking all over, but maybe he wouldn’t see that in the dim light.
