Florida Girls, a Novel by L.L. Kirchner

Author:L.L. Kirchner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798985815238
Publisher: LILA BOOKS

I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences

And gaze at the moon ’til I lose my senses.

I can’t look at hobbles, and I can't stand fences.

Don’t fence me in.

No, Papa, don’t you fence me in.

By the song’s end, the applause was mutual.

“Okay now, skedaddle,” Madame said to Alma. “You have school in the morning.”

Thelma wondered who this girl was to St. Clair but thought the better of asking while her host poured. “Thank you, Madame St. Clair.”

Madame St. Clair sat back with her teacup and let out a deep laugh. “Call me Queenie. Everyone does.”

“Of course, Queenie,” Thelma said. “How did you get here from France?”

Queenie laughed again. “Never been to France. My mother’s French. I was born in Martinique.”

Thelma didn’t have a clue where that was, but it sounded French.

“My parents brought me here. Same American dream as everybody else,” Queenie said with a smile, but she looked deeply into Thelma’s eyes. There was a penetrating quality about her, conveying she’d no need to spill her secrets because Madame St. Clair could read them.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be him.”

Thelma knitted her brow.

“Listen now, Thelma, there’s not much time.

“I understand you’re trying to give Salvatore Giancarlo the runaround. You should know that man saved my numbers business. But here’s something else you need to know—he did it to get back at Lucky Luciano for trying to take over his racket in Florida.” Queenie paused, looking toward the hallway, where Alma was collecting the new visitor. “But that same man sent his own son off to war when he could’ve spared him.”

Thelma sat, stupefied.

Queenie held her with a soul-piercing, kohl-eyed gaze. “You know exactly what this has to do with you. Remember, everyone wants something. Find out what it is before you dismiss it without consideration. That’s how you gain the upper hand.”

She rose and offered a slight bow, which Thelma found odd. “Au revoir, ma cherie,” Queenie said before exiting through french doors.

“Thelma?” Salvatore Giancarlo entered from the hallway, his massive frame blocking any hope of exit. “You’re a real sight for sore eyes.”

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