Page 33 of The Vaudeville Star

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smile. “I’ve seen you with much less, Ruby. In fact, I think you’ve seen me with much less.”

“Even so,” she said stiffly even as her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his handsome face.

He took the seat only recently vacated by King. “I saw the performance, and I saw King in the lobby. It seems he is quite the admirer.”

“What did you think?” Ruby asked as she pulled the blue gown on. “About me?”

“I thought you were mesmerizing,” he said softly.

“Really?” she asked, peeking over the screen with a smile.

“Really.”

She moved away from the screen and stood before him. “Can you do the ties in the back?”

He nodded and moved to stand behind her. He saw the pinkness of her skin and the white lace chemise she wore underneath the dress, and he suddenly ached to touch his lips to her skin.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he realized he wasn’t moving.

“Sorry,” he said softly as he began to tighten the laces on her dress. When he finished, she turned to face him.

“You were wonderful, Ruby,” he said hoarsely. “The audience loved you.”

“I was nervous, but it didn’t seem to matter. Once I was onstage, everything seemed to come together.”

Ruby was conscious of his body so close to hers and the handsome face that she had loved since she was a child. But they hadn’t married, and there was no happily ever after. In fact, they seemed more apart now than ever. They were on completely different paths.

“I must dash. I’m having supper with King.”

“You’ll remember what I said about him?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Ford disappeared as Ruby picked up her wrap to take with her to sup with King. When she greeted King in the lobby, he was talking to Vernon, who was smiling. She passed several audience members, who complimented her on the song and her performance, and she thanked them for attending.

“Ah! Here she is! The woman of the hour,” King proclaimed.

She blushed a little but was secretly pleased with the attention. She was no fool and realized that with King’s support and finances, she could be a star.

“We must be off,” he said as she took his arm. “We’re late. I made reservations at Delmonico’s.”

Once in the chauffeur-driven car, they headed to Delmonico’s, a high-end restaurant that had been in New York since 1827. The staff at Delmonico’s greeted King as an old friend, and he ordered for them both: cream of artichoke soup, sirloin of beef with mashed carrots, salmon with tartar sauce, asparagus tips, brandied pears, champagne, and coffee to follow afterward.

“Peach pie for dessert,” he told the waiter. “In honor of the Southern belle,” he said, lifting his champagne glass in a toast to her.

He never opened the menu, and Ruby realized that King probably knew the menu by heart. She wondered how many times Lourdes had been on his arm here and if he had ever taken the sickly Caroline to dine as well.

“How is your mother?” Ruby asked considerately. “Well, I hope?”

“Oh yes, that’s right. You met Mother at the party.”

“I did.”

“She is well. Always busy.” King smiled as he lit a cigar. “She likes to keep busy.”

Their artichoke soup arrived, and King waved a hand at it. “These are my favorite dishes, Ruby. But if you don’t like one, just say the word and back it goes,” he instructed.

“I’m sure everything will be delicious.”


Tags: Nicola Italia Historical