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Every strange noise caused our hearts to race, expecting the worst. Finally it was getting closer to dusk when I felt it would be safe to move. Sarah and I cleaned up and got dressed for the evening. Paul had a spare suit that I could borrow and Roxy loaned Sarah one of her tamer flapper outfits. Moxy even lent her a large pearl necklace that went aces with the outfit. I handed Paul a satchel. He took it, but was confused. I said, "Use it to open your club again. Put Roxy back on the stage, make her an honest woman.We pulled out of the secret garage Paul had and drove north to Harlem. There were additional police blanketing the city, but we were not stopped. Once we entered Harlem the police presence disappeared. We knew that although our worries about the police were over, they had been replaced with concern about the so called Negro Mafia. We were listening to the radio Berrigan's orchestra and a couple of comedians, Tim and Irene, but we were in no laughing mood.We pulled up in. “I said…” “I know. But we don’t have a contract, do we. So…” Another, last button. Her skin was almost as pale as the lacy wisp that almost hid her breasts. Her very full, and apparently not indifferent, breasts. A fiery blush spread over them from her throat down. Her breath came in hard, shallow gasps. Her lips were very close. He kissed them. It took her by surprise. God she’s going to sue me, he thought. Then suddenly he was kissing a softness he could barely sense. He was dizzy again. Her breast was tender in his hand, the nipple against his palm. How did… She went rigid, pushing against his chest “No.” Now he was gasping. He let go of her but she stayed where she was. Her head was down. Red glints, he thought. Slowly, she lifted her hands to the buttons. It was his turn. “No!” He took her hands in his, pulled her to him, her softness against the back of his knuckles. Head down, she struggled against him, struggled against his hardness, a strong, determined woman. She bent her.
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