“No, just talked a big game. I think. I’m not sure what all he was getting at.” Vivian bit her lip, hesitating. “You gonna fill me in? How did you know who he was? How did he know whoyouwere?”
“Like you said before.” Honor shrugged, looking away. “Seems like I know everyone.”
“Honor,” Vivian said sharply. She wasn’t in the mood for games.
“Honestly, pet…” Honor gave a short laugh, closing her eyes. “You’ll probably know soon enough.”
“What does that mean?” Vivian demanded, suddenly worried for an entirely different reason. Honor looked tired—no, she lookedsad. Her normal cool expression was drawn, tight lines curving around her mouth like she was in pain. “What’s going on?”
“Like I said.” Honor opened her eyes. “You’ll know soon enough.” She hesitated, then reached out to brush her fingers down one side of Vivian’s hair. “Got a bit mussed there.” Her smile was bittersweet as she dropped her hand. “Time to get back to work.”
Vivian caught Honor’s hand when the other woman would have turned away. The feel of it, of smooth skin and strong calluses, was like a wave of memory—when was the last time they had touched like that?—but she didn’t let it pull her eyes from Honor’s. “If there’s something going on, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
“Because you care about the Nightingale?” Honor asked softly.
“Because I care about you,” Vivian snapped, dropping her hand. “God knows why. You don’t make it easy.”
That made Honor laugh, though there was no humor in the sound. “You’re not the first to say so, pet,” she said. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’m swell. You keep your mind on taking care of yourself, okay?” As she turned away, Vivian heard her add quietly, “We both know you’re going to need it.”
The sting of those words went through Vivian like an electric shock. “You know, sometimes I wish I hated you,” she bit off as she pushed roughly past, beating Honor through the doorway. They’d had the door open long enough that the hallway was cool from the night air, though Vivian could feel the heat spilling out of the dance hall along with the music. “It would make my life a lot easier.”
“You might yet,” Honor whispered behind her. “And I might deserve it.”
Vivian didn’t know what she meant. She didn’t want to know. Fixing her smile like armor, she strode down the hall toward the bar. She didn’t look back.
It only took a quick look around, once she was back in the dance hall, to see that Corny Rokesby and his friends were gone. The band was playing a jaunty Charleston, and the dance floor was a whirl of bodies, a mix of strangers and regulars. There was Miss Rose, the best dancer at the Nightingale, dancing with a woman Vivian had never seen before; she could barely keep up, but Miss Rose made her look good anyway. Mr. Lawrence almost never got on the floor for a Charleston, he was too old-fashioned for that, but someone had persuaded him out there, and he was holding his own, though his forehead gleamed with sweat. Mags Crawford, only seventeen years old though she would never admit it, had diamonds flashing in her hair as she twirled in the arms of her newest fella.
Vivian watched as if from a distance. The Nightingale had been her haven ever since she first stepped foot in it, trembling in Bea’s shadow and hoping no one noticed that she had no idea what she was doing there. The thought made her glance at the bandstand, but Bea was on her break, probably smoking and laughing in the female employees’ dressing room with her heels off and her feet kicked up. Most nights, Vivian would be in there with her.
But even the Nightingale couldn’t protect her right now.
Vivian took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She’d been caught up in police raids and trailed by a mob boss’s bruisers. She’d seen dead bodies and dirty cops and the barrel of a gun pointed right at her. She’d unearthed more than one secret and kept her fair share too.
She wasn’t going down without a fight.
When she turned back to the bar, she nearly jumped out of herskin. Leo was sitting there, watching her, and he wasn’t alone. Danny leaned on the bar next to him.
“One of you gonna tell me what’s up now?” Danny asked, glancing from her to Leo, who he had known since they were kids. They had met on opposite sides of a street brawl, packs of Jewish and Chinese boys fighting over who had the right to a few grimy city blocks. They had fought each other growing up as much as they had fought anyone else, a rivalry that grew into respect and eventual friendship, even after Leo lit out for Chicago.
Vivian had tensed when she saw them together, shoulders creeping up defensively as she waited to find out what Leo had told his friend. At Danny’s question, though, she relaxed, if only just barely. Her news was still safe.
Leo hesitated, looking at Vivian. “Anything going on you want to share, Viv?”
“I—” Vivian bit her lip. “Will you tell Flo something for me, Danny? When you get home tonight?”
“I can,” he said slowly. “Though maybe it’s something you should come by and tell her yourself? You know she’s going to blow her top if she finds out you’re keeping something important from her.”
That made Vivian laugh, though the sound came out tense and short. It was an understatement if there ever was one. Florence had a lifetime’s worth of good reasons to dislike it when Vivian kept secrets. “I’m not keeping anything—I mean, I’m not going to. I’ll come by and see her soon. But will you tell her it’ll be a little bit?” Vivian swallowed down her nerves and smiled, hoping the expression was less shaky than it felt. “I’ve got a few things to take care of, and I don’t want to bring any trouble her way right now.”
“Viv—”
“You won’t say anything that’ll make her worry, right, Danny-boy?” she insisted. “I know you don’t want her to. She’s got enough to deal with right now.”
That made Danny sigh. He and Florence were both thrilled to pieces to have a baby on the way. But her pregnancy hadn’t been easy so far. Vivian knew the last thing he’d want was Florence worrying over her little sister—her little sister who was always in some kind of trouble—when she should be taking care of herself.
Danny nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it. “If you say so, Viv.” He looked like he might say something else, and Vivian braced herself for more questions. But a group of men and women came laughing up to the bar, debating whether they wanted gin or champagne, and he had to get back to work. “What’s your poison, folks? The Nightingale’s got it all…”
Leo was watching Vivian when she let out a sigh of relief. “How much are you actually working tonight?” he asked, one hand spinning his hat in restless circles on top of the bar.
