Rouge by Richard Kirshenbaum

Author:Richard Kirshenbaum
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

27

FALLOUT

New York City, 1936

CeeCee had called Mickey numerous times to discuss that night. Did the plan go as executed? Was there any fallout? The endless questions and anxiety swirled in her head. She figured it was best to find him at home and talk with him face-to-face. The problem was she would only allow him to come to her apartment and had never been to his. She had a rule that she would not go where she knew other women had been.

As she made herself up, she looked down at all the products spread across her dresser. Various half-used bottles and old trial samples of Gardiner Cosmetics took up most of the surfaces in her room. She remembered a box in her closet. All of the Herz Beauty products that Constance wanted to study, some that she had asked CeeCee to purchase and some that Polly and the other girl, Frieda, the spy, had stolen. Unopened products, most of them of a higher quality than the small samples she was allotted. Grabbing the waste bin, CeeCee dragged her arm across the dresser and dumped all the Gardiner products into the bin. Next, she went to the closet and grabbed the box. She opened it, brought out the products she needed, and started to apply the cosmetics the Herz way.

It was near noon when CeeCee reached Norfolk Street and Mickey’s family fruit stand. A small older man was unpacking peaches and apples from wooden crates.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for Mickey. Is he here today?”

The old man turned around. “No, miss, he is not.”

“He’s a—” She stopped herself. “Friend” wouldn’t be the right word to use in this case. Additionally, she had no desire to get into racial politics with the man. She needed information. “I’m CeeCee Lopez. He needs me to clean his apartment. He told me to meet him here. He never gave me an address.” To others it may have seemed strange she had never been to his apartment, that she would see him only at hers. But she had never wanted to cross the line, no matter how much time they spent together. Now she thought it was odd that she had no idea where he lived.

“Oh, of course!” The man’s tone changed as if he were now speaking with a child. “I will write it down for you.”

The man went into the loading area to grab a piece of paper and a pen. When he returned, he began to write down the address.

“You like cleaning?”

“Very much, sir. Mama always said to keep a good house.” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyes.

“You seem like a very pretty girl for a maid, but we know our Mickey.” He laughed and handed her the address, and she smiled.

“Thank you, sir. Good day.”

Mickey’s apartment building was not too far away from the fruit stand, a few blocks south of Delancey, near Orchard. The old man could have just given her the street and building number, but was kind enough to

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