Part 4
It was only the politest of knocks and yet, he had been expecting it. 'Excuse me for being a bit shy,' she said, leaning against the doorway, head cocked. 'I'm still working up the courage to talk to you.' Somewhere in the hallway, a door slammed. Bottles rankled, a girl laughed, high-pitched. It promised to be a wild night.
'Courage? I ain't gonna bite,' said Harlem, motioning her in.
'Don't you make any promise I may not let you keep,' she chided. Her eyes scanned the scarce belongings of his dressing room, resting finally upon his glass.
'Offer me a drink?'
'All I have is Scotch.'
'That'll do.' She smiled and he poured her half a glass. She took a sip and then another one, keeping her face composed, if only barely.
'Look, Mister....' she said, putting down the glass.
'Harlem Red will do.'
'Billie Barnett. Enchanté.' She stuck out her hand and as he hovered over it, his lips hardly touching skin, he was reminded of a world long gone.
'Well, then, Harlem Red, I'm sure your mama raised you well,' she said, considering him.
'What?'
'Didnt she tell you it is impolite to have a lady do the asking?'
'And what would the lady have me ask her?'
'Well, for her company for a night out on the town.'
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