Jezebel (16 page)

“
Bet on it.” He
reached up and tapped his brow. “Got the date and address
memorized.”

Half way
up the block, Celeste could still feel his hot gaze on her. It felt
good— really good—like an afternoon bender.

chapter eleven

“
Should I wear the
green one or the lavender?”

Celeste held up each dress
for her cousin’s approval. Unfortunately, Trudy had another
agenda like her newest flavor of the month, Lenny, a saxophone player
recently relocated from New Orleans.

“
The green one, it
shows way more cleavage,” Trudy said before leaning into her
beau for a kiss. They’d been cavorting and pawing each other
most of the afternoon.

Celeste hung the green dress
back in the closet.

“
Why’d you even
ask my opinion?” Trudy balked.

“
And I’m taking
it. “ Celeste slipped the lavender number over her head and the
satin gown fell into place like a waterfall. “I’m
turning over a new leaf, remember.” Cleaning up her image was
one of them.

“
Less is more anyway,”
Lenny vouched.

Celeste
agreed. Despite the missing waistline, the floor-length number
skimmed over her slim frame and accentuated her flat stomach and
ample hips. The blouson sleeves added a touch of drama and the
ruched bodice called attention to her girls. Small, yet perky they
were one of her best assets.

As she took a seat at the
vanity, Celeste picked up a pearl handle brush and began brushing her
hair in time to the music blaring from the radio.

“
When are you two
going to get ready?” she asked, eyeing the two of them in the
vanity mirror.

“
Someone’s
mighty eager to get to Countess Vaughn’s.”

Lenny slid his arm around
Trudy’s shoulders. “She’s not the only one. I hear
the Countess really sets things out. I’m already in line for
the free booze and reefer.”

Chuckling, Trudy dropped her
head in Lenny’s lap. “My cousin’s going for a more
natural high. She’s sweet on a certain prize fighter. She
stood him up you see and she’s hoping to run into him at
tonight’s party especially since her old beau, Ralph Long, will
be there as well.”

“
Plan to kill two
birds with one stone?” Lenny drawled.

“
More or less.”

Lenny
chuckled as he stroked his goatee. “Wicked.”

“
We’d better get
moving,” Trudy stood bringing Lenny with her. “See you
downstairs, Sugar Foot.”

She
planned on being really wicked
,
Celeste conceded after they’d left. What better way to put
your past behind you, than to meet it head on with your future?

* * *

Located on West 144th
Street, Countess Vaughn’s four-story townhouse was one of three
residences she owned in the Tri-state area. Located in the highly
desirable Sugar Hill neighborhood, the home sported a slightly curved
staircase that led up to double black oak doors containing lead glass
etched with palm trees and flamingos.

As they ascended the stairs,
the doors swung open, blinding them with lights and blaring music.
Partygoers intent on seeking their pleasures, squeezed past the front
entrance, oblivious to the trio on the front stoop.

Coughing in a gloved hand,
the butler, a dark-skinned Negro of indeterminate age, gained their
attention. “Who’s your sponsor?” he asked, looking
down his nose at them.

“
Our sponsor?”
Trudy hissed in Celeste’s ear. “That’s how they do
it in high society?”

Celeste had no idea what a
sponsor was either, but she took a guess. “Beatrice Gerard
invited us.”

The butler snapped his
fingers and another man appeared beside him. “Charlie here will
take your coats.” The other man smiled pleasantly as he
divested them of their outer attire. “The band is in the
ballroom, located at the back of the house. Refreshments and spirits
can be found on every floor. If you have a stronger constitution, or
other vices you can find your pleasure on the third floor.”

“
W
here’s
the reefer?” Trudy asked loudly.

Pulling
back as if hit with a bucket of cold water, the butler temporarily
lost his composure, but quick on his toes he recovered. “You’ll
find the reefer upstairs.”

“
Well, that’s
where I’m headed,” Trudy declared, grabbing three glasses
of champagne from a passing waiter. She handed each of them a glass
and kept one for herself.

“
I’m right
behind you,” declared Lenny, close on Trudy’s heels. “Are
you coming, Celeste?”

“
You two go on. I’m
going to case the place.”

Lenny’s
lips curved into a knowing grin. “Two birds with one stone?”

“
Something like that,”
Celeste said, setting the glass of champagne aside.

Thankfully, her cousin
didn’t make a big deal of her trying to remain dry. On the lam
for only three days, it wouldn’t take much for her to fold.
And she wouldn’t dare admit it to anyone, but she felt stronger
and more confident without it.

After parting ways, Celeste
ambled through the various interconnected parlors, taking note of the
opulent Louis XV furniture and matching antique gold, brocaded window
treatments.

Like Versailles, full-length
glass mirrors covered walls not occupied by gold leaf wallpapering.
The opulent surroundings clashed comically with the night’s
refreshments—chitterlings, collard greens, sweet potato pone,
and pig feet.

Finished with searching the
first floor, Celeste wandered upstairs. Met with twin hallways, she
decided on following the sound of a tinkling piano.

The first
room she came to was a salon filled with various guests seated at
gaming tables spread throughout the room. In the center of the room,
an Asian man decked out in a tux caressed the keys of a baby grand.
His song of choice, Duke Ellington’s
Caravan,
evoked erotic images of sweaty bodies, clandestine kisses…and
Shane.

Celeste slid her hand over
the fluttering butterflies in her belly. Just thinking about him
made her restless to the point of aching for him. In all honesty,
she’d dressed more for him than Ralph.

Damn she had it bad.

“
Hey baby.” Her
moment of kink was shattered by the slide of a wet glass along the
back of her arm. Twirling around, Celeste looked up into the face of
a brown-skinned man with conked hair the shade of a brand new penny.

“
May I help you?”
she asked, turning her full attitude on him.

“
You sure can, toots.
Tell me how I can slip you out of that dress,” he slurred.
Without any warning he wrapped his arm around her waist. The
unmistakable stab of his erection jabbed her hip.

“
I’m not ready
for bedtime.” Celeste purred, a fake smile curling her lips.

“
Trust
me, honey, you won’t be sleeping.” He hiccupped, as he
rubbed his pelvis into her.

“
Trust
me, Stewart with what
little
you’re offering,” Celeste loved how his face tightened
over her intentional misuse of his name, “you’ll have to
wake me when you’re done.” Celeste turned back around,
dismissing him.

“
Are you sassing me?”
Sherman grabbed her wrist and yanked her around to face him.

Celeste pulled at her wrist.
Thankfully, Sherman was so drunk his strength barely matched hers. “I
don’t think my man would like that,” she said, hoping the
mention of another man would get rid of him.

Even though he didn’t
relinquish his hold on her wrist, he laughed nervously and his eyes
darted around the room.

“
He’s a stupid
man, or he doesn’t care since he’s left you all alone.”

“
Oh,
I’m not alone,” she retorted with feigned bravado.
“In
fact, I’m pretty sure he’s watching us right now he’s
going to be very angry if he has to leave his hand and come over
here.” Celeste lifted her brow, daring him to call her bluff.

Sherman’s gaze darted
back and forth between her and the gaming table.

Probably weighing his
options, Celeste mused. He better make up his mind, her patience was
wearing thin. She might be a full head shorter than him and about
seventy pounds lighter, but in his state she could wipe the floor
with him.

“
Tease,” he
spat, dropping her wrists. Celeste watched him stumble off. She
didn’t abandon her post until he finally disappeared in one of
the rooms down the hall.

Since
standing still and alone seemed to attract unwanted admirers, Celeste
exited through two double doors on the opposite side of the room.

Heavy gold brocade curtains
blanketed the windows. Rococo paintings hung on the walls and white
Louis XV couches were grouped around the room’s fireplace.
Like the rest of the mansion, the room repeated the gold and white
motif the host obviously favored. Therefore, Beatrice Gerard’s
dramatic postulations in an elegant black caftan immediately drew
Celeste’s attention.

Wildly swinging her arms,
the chanteuse entertained her captivated audience, while she remained
unnoticed.

Well…almost
unnoticed.

Ralph Long, looking
completely dumbfounded, sat no more than fifteen feet away from her.

His mocha skin stood in
stark contrast to the whiteness of his starched shirt and his closely
cropped hair, parted on one side, gave him a boyish quality.

There was nothing childish
about Ralph Long. At one time, his lips and his hands used to turn
her insides to mush. Even now, the night they’d first made love
seared her memory, unleashing pent-up, well-tempered emotions and a
mountain of guilt.

Did he still hate her?
Had he forgiven her for hurting him?

Dozens of unanswered
questions came flooding to the surface like puss to an open wound,
but Celeste didn’t run or retreat. She’d done enough of
that over the years. Even going so far as to run into another man’s
arms because she couldn’t understand how someone could love her
when her daddy refused to.

Despite having the wind
suddenly knocked out of her, yet the consummate performer, Celeste
acknowledged him with a smile and finger wave.

“
Isn’t that what
happened, Ralph?” Beatrice snapped her fingers at him, barely
regaining his attention because his eyes kept darting in Celeste’s
direction.

“
Say that again,”
Ralph mumbled.

“
That gypsy’s
monkey stole my wedding ring on our honeymoon. That little devil
slipped it right off my finger…”

Celeste felt a cold, hard
knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Swaying slightly, she
couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that all this time
she’d been duped.

Did the affair start here or
while they were in Europe? Considering Ralph’s sheepish
expression, the dalliance more than likely started before the boat
left shore.

Celeste got so angry her
body trembled with it. Ralph hadn’t left her at the altar over
her transgressions. He’d played her false, made her wallow in
guilt for years, while he played house in Paris.

Ralph started to fidget and
she smiled. He might’ve settled down he hadn’t lost his
marbles. He’d witnessed enough of her run-ins to know neither
of them would get off on a technicality. Sure, she’d cheated
on him, but he’d transgressed as well.

Celeste
pushed away from the door at the same time Beatrice turned in her
direction, her arms drifting to her sides.

“
And all this time I
thought we were old friends,” Celeste emphasized ‘old’,
striking out at Beatrice’s Achilles heel. The other woman
routinely lied about her age, dialing back the time like the hand on
a watch even though she’d strolled around the block a time or
two and was a headliner long before Celeste and Ralph were out of
knee socks.

A smarter cookie than she
first assumed, Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. “Acquaintances
at best,” she corrected.

“
Yet close enough to
gain my confidence and walk away with my fiancé. I will admit
you were a way better actress. But we’re not on stage and I’m
not going to hold any punches.”

Beatrice planted her chin in
the air. “No one can walk away with what was already gone,”
she muttered.

“
No
they can’t.
So
I want to thank you.”

Incredulous, the other woman
blinked. “W-what for?”

“
For saving me from
the biggest mistake of my life. Admittedly, I’m angry as hell
right now and my foot is itching to stick it up your behinds. But
seeing both of you and how neither of you have changed, I feel mighty
blessed. Ralph’s still a pushover and you’re still
trying to be the center of the show, surrounding yourself with fake
friends who stroke your shallow ego.”