her line of sight, and Maria pulled into her spine, willing herself to shrink farther into the darkness. She could not blink,could not turn away or breathe, as her husband walked out of Joseph Crater’s apartment.
“GET UP . You’ve got an audition.”
Ritzi heard the words, but they did not register at first. A cool hand grabbed her bare shoulder and shook. Somewhere at the base of her skull, a deep throb muffled the words into nonsense. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the light.
“I will drag your bare-naked ass into that shower if I have to.”
“Viv?” The word climbed its way out of her raw throat.
“Expecting someone else?” A pause, and then the voice softened. “Owney, perhaps?”
Ritzi jerked at the name and tried to sit up, but the hand forced her gently back to the pillow. “Is he here?”
“Came by this morning. Wanted to know what time you got in. And to make sure you don’t miss this audition.”
Ritzi’s stomach lurched, and she drew a long breath through her nose to quell the nausea. Her voice came, weak and pleading. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home.”
“Home isn’t an option anymore, Ritz. You know that.”
She cracked open her swollen eyes and found herself sideways in the sheet, a worn gray sock clenched in her hands. Vivian Gordon sat on the edge of the bed, primped and pressed as usual. Ritzi blinked at her a few times before she noticed the competing expressions of concern and anger on her friend’s face. “What did you tell him?”
Vivian flashed a wicked grin. “The truth, of course. That you stumbled in drunk just after midnight.”
Thank God .
Ritzi let go of the sock and eased her eyes shut with the heels of her hands, counting backward—minutes, hours, days—rewinding time first to William Klein, then to the moment she crawled out of that bathroom cabinet, and further to Club Abbey and Crater and details that turned her stomach. The sex. The sound of fists raining down on Crater. She shuddered. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.”
A few hours. Was that all? Sleep had fallen so hard that she felt as though a month could have passed. It took several seconds before Ritzi could remember her middle name, and it was all she could do to form a sentence. “I’m thirsty.”
Vivian left the room and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” Ritzi said.
“He’s a bastard.”
“For the water. But thanks for that too.”
Vivian leveled her unnerving jade eyes on Ritzi. “What happened last night?”
Ritzi guzzled half the glass of water. Her throat was sore from the relentless vomiting she’d endured early that morning. It had taken twenty minutes for her muscles to stop cramping once she unfolded herself from the tight confines of the cabinet. And all that time, doubled over in agony, she’d retched, first onto the floor and then into the toilet. On and on it went until there was nothing left but bile. It was a long time before she could look at Vivian and say the words out loud. “You don’t want to know.”
“I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me.”
“And I can’t protect you if I do.”
They stared at each other in stalemate.
Vivian pursed her lips. Looked away. “You’ll lose your spot if you don’t get moving. You know what they do with no-shows.”
Ritzi sat up and drew the sheets around her. So many details about the last twenty-four hours were vivid in her mind, but she could not, for the life of her, figure out how she got into bed without her clothes.
“I burned your dress,” Vivian said. “Damn thing smelled of vomit and looked like evidence.”
“I don’t remember taking it off.”
“You didn’t. I came in this morning and found you passed out. Didn’t think you’d want to ruin the sheets.” Vivian stuck her chest out in an exaggerated motion. “Besides, you ain’t got nothin’ I ain’t got.” She laughed.
“GET UP . You’ve got an audition.”
Ritzi heard the words, but they did not register at first. A cool hand grabbed her bare shoulder and shook. Somewhere at the base of her skull, a deep throb muffled the words into nonsense. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the light.
“I will drag your bare-naked ass into that shower if I have to.”
“Viv?” The word climbed its way out of her raw throat.
“Expecting someone else?” A pause, and then the voice softened. “Owney, perhaps?”
Ritzi jerked at the name and tried to sit up, but the hand forced her gently back to the pillow. “Is he here?”
“Came by this morning. Wanted to know what time you got in. And to make sure you don’t miss this audition.”
Ritzi’s stomach lurched, and she drew a long breath through her nose to quell the nausea. Her voice came, weak and pleading. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home.”
“Home isn’t an option anymore, Ritz. You know that.”
She cracked open her swollen eyes and found herself sideways in the sheet, a worn gray sock clenched in her hands. Vivian Gordon sat on the edge of the bed, primped and pressed as usual. Ritzi blinked at her a few times before she noticed the competing expressions of concern and anger on her friend’s face. “What did you tell him?”
Vivian flashed a wicked grin. “The truth, of course. That you stumbled in drunk just after midnight.”
Thank God .
Ritzi let go of the sock and eased her eyes shut with the heels of her hands, counting backward—minutes, hours, days—rewinding time first to William Klein, then to the moment she crawled out of that bathroom cabinet, and further to Club Abbey and Crater and details that turned her stomach. The sex. The sound of fists raining down on Crater. She shuddered. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.”
A few hours. Was that all? Sleep had fallen so hard that she felt as though a month could have passed. It took several seconds before Ritzi could remember her middle name, and it was all she could do to form a sentence. “I’m thirsty.”
Vivian left the room and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” Ritzi said.
“He’s a bastard.”
“For the water. But thanks for that too.”
Vivian leveled her unnerving jade eyes on Ritzi. “What happened last night?”
Ritzi guzzled half the glass of water. Her throat was sore from the relentless vomiting she’d endured early that morning. It had taken twenty minutes for her muscles to stop cramping once she unfolded herself from the tight confines of the cabinet. And all that time, doubled over in agony, she’d retched, first onto the floor and then into the toilet. On and on it went until there was nothing left but bile. It was a long time before she could look at Vivian and say the words out loud. “You don’t want to know.”
“I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me.”
“And I can’t protect you if I do.”
They stared at each other in stalemate.
Vivian pursed her lips. Looked away. “You’ll lose your spot if you don’t get moving. You know what they do with no-shows.”
Ritzi sat up and drew the sheets around her. So many details about the last twenty-four hours were vivid in her mind, but she could not, for the life of her, figure out how she got into bed without her clothes.
“I burned your dress,” Vivian said. “Damn thing smelled of vomit and looked like evidence.”
“I don’t remember taking it off.”
“You didn’t. I came in this morning and found you passed out. Didn’t think you’d want to ruin the sheets.” Vivian stuck her chest out in an exaggerated motion. “Besides, you ain’t got nothin’ I ain’t got.” She laughed.
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