Chapter 11

Eleven

Rose

The early February winds threatened to take my hat several times as I hurried through Union Square. I regretted not taking a hansom, but I was trying to save my money. The walk helped to clear my head.

It had been a week of late nights with Moore at the town house. Seven nights of sweaty grinding and kissing that never quite satisfied the place inside me that longed for him. True to his word, he hadn't bedded me—no matter how much I begged. He never entered me, never joined our bodies together. The frustration was driving me out of my skull.

And worst of all? I was developing feelings for him.

These were deep, lasting feelings, the type I'd avoided since Ohio. I was the world's biggest fool. Why was I so self-destructive in my choice of men? Tommy, the mayor's son, never intended to marry a girl like me, one from a poor family. And now Moore, an unattainable man from the highest social echelon. The world in which the Emersons lived consisted of strict social rules for associating with the "right" types of people. In both cases I was the good time, the woman they lusted for, but would never keep.

Staying with Moore, allowing our arrangement to continue, meant only heartache. Yet I couldn't keep away. I returned each night to the town house to meet him, where I let him undress me and have his wicked way with me. I was utterly weak when it came to him, powerless to resist the pull between us.

It would be easier to let go if this was purely physical. But we talked late into the night, either in bed or the bath. There was something so calm and steady about Moore. In some ways he was my opposite, but we were alike in many others, too. Like our ambition, our need for financial security. Our love of ice cream and distaste for meringue. I made him laugh and he gave me investment advice.

And the heat between us was an inferno.

"Hey, stranger!"

The nearby voice brought me out of my tangled thoughts. Glancing around, I broke out into a huge smile when I spotted a familiar face. "Flora!" We embraced quickly. "It's good to see you."

"Same, Rosie. I'm still disappointed that our show closed last week. We had a lot of fun together."

"Yes, we did. Are you auditioning already?"

"I am. You know how it is. No rest for the wicked."

I grinned. "Indeed, such is the life we lead. I'm off to an audition, as well. Are you headed over to Sixth Avenue?"

She nodded once and took my elbow, then we started walking. "It's a small part for In Gay New York . One of the actresses has throat problems, so they need a replacement quick." She bumped my shoulder with hers. "You know, it's in your vocal range and you're about her size. You should come for an audition."

"I'll think about it. Right now, I'm off to see Mr. Martin. He's looking at leads for The Bathing Girl. " This upcoming production was well-financed and rumored to be the "it" show of the autumn. Fortunately for me, my former director was at the helm.

"Lucky you!" Flora exclaimed. "This could be your big break as a lead actress."

"I know. Cross your fingers for me."

"I'll cross my fingers and my toes!" We walked in companionable silence until she asked, "What happened with your uptown swell?"

"Mr. Emerson. We're . . . friends."

"Friends, as in the kind who stay overnight together?"

Was I going to admit this? It felt strange, even if Flora was a good friend. "Yes. That kind."

Flora whistled. "Holy crackers. You landed a whale. Good for you! Is he doing right by you?"

The comment took me by surprise. I hadn't been trying to land Moore. I was trying to have one night of passion with him and move on.

Except I wasn't quite trying. My will to resist him melted like warm butter every time he touched me.

"He's merely a friend," I explained quietly. "As I've said, I don't wish to become a rich man's mistress."

"I know, but I don't see anything wrong with it. If the situation were reversed, would it matter?"

"I don't understand."

"Meaning if you had the money. Because if I were wealthy, I would gladly support a man to dote on me night and day."

"I don't mind the doting, per se. But if I come to depend on him, what happens when he decides we're over? Men are unreliable and selfish."

"Oh, so Emerson is one of the cheap ones."

We turned a corner and a fierce wind blew around the ornate buildings. I burrowed a bit deeper into my coat and, for some inexplicable reason, rushed to defend Moore. "No, definitely not. He bought me a townhouse near the park."

"Sakes alive! A townhouse! And near the park?" She huffed a cloud of white in the cold air. "You've barely met and already you're acquiring real estate. Now I'm truly jealous."

"I can't accept it." I cast a quick glance at her. "It wouldn't be right."

She shook her head as if confused. "I don't understand. Is the town house temporary or conditional in some way?"

"No, he put the deed in my name. But it doesn't feel right to take Moore's money and gifts, when I don't deserve them."

"Rosie." Flora stopped in the middle of the walk and grabbed my arm. Her expression was full of disbelief under the rim of her bonnet. "Do you think there is a man alive who has refused a favor when it's been offered? That is how the entire city works!" She swept her arm out to the buildings. "If a man went to Yale or went to Harvard. If he frequents the same club you frequent. Or comes from the neighborhood in which you grew up. It's all in who you know and what you can trade that matters."

Money makes things easy, sweetheart, and I have loads of it.

Moore's words echoed in my head and I wrinkled my nose. "I know you're right," I told Flora, "but I promised myself that I'd remain independent. When I came to New York, I swore to rely on only my skills."

"Except you are relying on your skills—the kind of skills a man appreciates."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You know what I mean. My acting skills."

She grew serious, her eyes kind. "Honey, we're taught we can have control over our lives, but it's an illusion. Tiny coincidences and chances occur every day to affect our opportunities and decisions. As Shakespeare says, ‘Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.' Sometimes good things happen, even when we don't believe we deserve them, and we still must grab onto those chances with both hands."

"You would quote my favorite of Shakespeare's obscure plays."

"You can't argue with the Bard." Flora took my arm and we started walking again. "Think about it. You're off to see Mr. Martin. You're hoping to leverage the familiarity you have with him to land a role in his new show. That is favoritism, Rosie."

"Yes, but I worked hard in our last production. And I'm a damn good actress."

"Of course you are. But that's the most coveted role on Broadway. I heard even Sarah Bernhardt was sailing in from Paris to audition."

" She is? " Good lord, I hadn't expected such fierce competition.

"It's what I heard. However, you have a leg up because you are friendly with Mr. Martin."

Hmm. I hadn't ever considered it like this. Still, I wasn't sure I agreed when it came to Moore. "So you think I should become Mr. Emerson's mistress. Throw all my good sense to the wind and use him for whatever trinkets and townhouses he bestows on me?"

"You're not using him. You're bringing some much-needed joy and passion to that sour man's life."

"He's not sour!"

"You forget I saw him in that box for almost a month. I don't think he smiled even once!"

True, Moore didn't smile much. But I'd coaxed multiple smiles out of him the past few days. I treasured each one, because he seemed so lonely deep down, a man dedicated to his company and nothing else. Maybe he did need me.

Flora nudged my ribs. "I know that expression. I've seen a similar look on just about every actress's face at some point. You are fond of him."

"Well, of course I'm fond of him. I wouldn't agree to his arrangement if I weren't."

"No, I mean very, very fond. Deep-down-to-your-toes fond."

We reached my address, so I drew to a halt. "You're wrong. We're merely friends. Furthermore, I'd be a dashed fool to develop feelings for him."

"I don't know," Flora said thoughtfully, her lips pursing. "Maybe you two will have a grand love affair. It'll be like The Shop Girl , except instead of marrying the poor medical student, you end up with the millionaire."

The possibility was ludicrous. As much as I wished otherwise, men from Moore's world married women of their own class—not that Moore would ever remarry. He was firmly against taking another bride, which shouldn't have mattered to me.

But it did.

Shoving aside thoughts of marriage, I said, "I'd rather make my own millions."

Flora rolled her eyes. "Who wouldn't? But you know how you make millions? Real estate. Take the town house from Mr. Emerson and sell it if you want. Use the money to start a business or better yet, buy another house. Or buy an apartment building where struggling actresses can live cheaply and avoid the lecherous landlords."

We both gave a tiny shiver at those words. Nearly every actress I knew had been cheated or propositioned or threatened by a male landlord in this city. "You're full of sound advice today, Flora. Thank you."

"I hope you listen. And if you buy that apartment building, please send a word. Because I will move in before the ink dries on the deed!"

"I will," I said with a chuckle as we embraced. "I'm so glad I ran into you today. Good luck in your audition."

"You too, Rosie. I have a feeling that great things are about to happen for both of us. And don't forget the Bard!" She waved then hurried up the walk, disappearing into the throngs of people.

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.

I thought about this line, my eyes going a bit unfocused. Had Moore been brought into my life for a reason? Was I a fool for standing on my principles when he was freely willing to give me a townhouse? And Flora was right about trading favors. Whether it was stock tips, job opportunities, or construction bids, this city worked on graft and kickbacks, whispers and favors.

Was it wrong for a woman to want to get ahead, too?

Acting paid well, but I couldn't afford a townhouse on the park. As Flora said, I could sell it later and set myself up for a lifetime of financial security. Also, I hadn't been to my tiny apartment downtown in four days. Moore had provided me with an entire wardrobe, everything I needed to live in the town house. The servants deferred to me, and it was beginning to feel more comfortable, like my own home.

Who was I fooling? I was already a mistress. Not allowing Moore inside my body meant nothing when he was inside my heart and mind. In fact, it was growing increasingly difficult to be apart. I longed for him whenever we weren't together, physically ached for his presence.

I inhaled and filled my lungs with bracing cold air. Letting it out slowly, I stared up at the limestone office building, determination settling into my bones. I was an actress first. Even as Moore's mistress, I wouldn't give up my career. Because he wouldn't stick around forever. I had to keep that in mind as I charted these new waters.

I started for the entrance, ready to call in my favor.