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"I play ice hockey."
"Makes a girl feel safe." She put both hands on his cheeks and kissed him again, longer, then she sighed and said: "Oh, boy, I think we're going to have fun."
"Are we?" Washington was a Southern city, still largely segregated. In Buffalo, white and black people could eat in the same restaurants and drink in the same bars, mostly, but here it was different. Greg was not sure what the laws were, but he felt certain that in practise a white man with a black woman would cause trouble. It was surprising to find Jacky occupying a room in this hotel; Lev must have fixed it. But there was certainly no question of Greg and Jacky swanning around town with Lev and Gladys in a foursome. So what did Jacky think they were going to do to have fun together? The amazing notion crossed his mind that she might be willing to go to bed with him.
He put his hands on her waist, to draw her to him for another kiss, but she pulled back. "I need to take a shower," she said. "Give me a few minutes." She turned and disappeared through the communicating door, closing it behind her.
He sat on the bed, trying to take it all in. Jacky wanted to act in movies, and it seemed she was willing to use sex to advance her career. She certainly was not the first actress, black or white, to use that strategy. Gladys was doing the same by sleeping with Lev. Greg and his father were the lucky beneficiaries.
He saw that she had left her clutch bag behind. He picked it up and tried the door. It was not locked. He stepped through.
She was on the phone, wearing a pink bathrobe. She said: "Yes, hunky-dory, no problem." Her voice seemed different, more mature, and he realized that with him she had been using a sexy-little-girl tone that was not natural. Then she saw him, smiled, and reverted to the girly voice as she said into the phone: "Please hold my calls. I don't want to be disturbed. Thank you. Good-bye."
"You left this," said Greg, and handed her the purse.
"You just wanted to see me in my bathrobe," she said coquettishly. The front of the robe did not entirely hide her breasts, and he could see an enchanting curve of flawless brown skin.
He grinned. "No, but I'm glad I did."
"Go back to your room. I have to shower. I might let you see more later."
"Oh, my God," he said.
He returned to his room. This was astonishing. "I might let you see more later," he repeated to himself aloud. What a thing for a girl to say!
He had a hard-on, but he did not want to jerk off when the real thing seemed so close. To take his mind off it, he went on unpacking. He had an expensive shaving kit, a razor and brush with pearl handles, a present from his mother. He laid the things out in the bathroom, wondering whether they would impress Jacky if she saw them.
The walls were thin, and he heard the sound of running water from the next room. The thought of her body naked and wet possessed him. He tried to concentrate on arranging his underwear and socks in a drawer.
Then he heard her scream.
He froze. For a moment he was too surprised to move. What did it mean? Why would she yell out like that? Then she screamed again, and he was shocked into action. He threw open the communicating door and stepped into her room.
She was naked. He had never seen a naked woman in real life. She had pointed breasts with dark brown tips. At her groin was a thatch of wiry black hair. She was cowering back against the wall, trying ineffectually to cover her nakedness with her hands.
Standing in front of her was Dave Rouzrokh, with twin scratches down his aristocratic cheek, presumably caused by Jacky's pink-varnished nails. There was blood on the broad lapel of Dave's double-breasted white jacket.
Jacky screamed: "Get him away from me!"
Greg swung a fist. Dave was an inch taller, but he was an old man, and Greg was an athletic teenager. The blow connected with Dave's chin--more by luck than by judgment--and Dave staggered back, then fell to the floor.
The room door opened.
The broad-shouldered hotel employee Greg had seen earlier came in. He must have a master key, Greg thought. "I'm Tom Cranmer, house detective," the man said. "What's going on here?"
Greg said: "I heard her scream and came in to find him here."
Jacky said: "He tried to rape me!"
Dave struggled to his feet. "That's not true," he said. "I was asked to come to this room for a meeting with Sol Starr."
Jacky began to sob. "Oh, now he's going to lie about it!"
Cranmer said: "Put something on, please, miss."
Jacky put on her pink bathrobe.
The detective picked up the room phone, dialed a number, and said: "There's usually a cop on the corner. Get him into the lobby, right now."
