If a curious young customer requested Harry’s pronouns, she winked and replied that she was a woman, more or less. The choice confused some and allured others, precisely her intention.
Harry longed to lurk in the eaves of politics, pulling strings as skillfully as she woveshibariropes. Sterling was hard to tie down unless you were literally tying her up. Somewhere in the tangled knot work of their affair, Sterling had realized she was more bound to Harry than she wanted to be.
That was half a year ago, before Harry disappeared from Vienna. Rumors said she’d slept with the wrong man’s wife. While Harry was on the run from whatever trouble she’d shaken or stirred up, Sterling had spent six months hiding from her feelings beneath the unfamiliar bedsheets of any handsome fool who’d stood still for too long. So, business as usual.
But Harry was back, as was the tension in Sterling’s chest. An invisible thread drawing her to the Loos Bar, where unparalleled cocktails led to perilous decisions.
A familiar flirtatious giggle floated over the bubbly haze of chatter, tickling Sterling’s ear. It drew her eye to the end of the bar, where Verena, one of Madame’s escorts, was perched, whispering to her transfixed client. She toyed with her dress’s neckline, swooping long dark curls over one shoulder, then rested back against the mahogany wall. Her date leaned forward, following in subtle pursuit. She laughed, letting a lock of hair fall into her face, innocent doe eyes inviting him to tuck it behind her ear. With a shaky hand, he did, then pulled her in for a kiss. Hedy must have taught her that move. She’d stolen it from Sterling, who’d borrowed it from Aunt Serafina.
Otis, Harry’s dog, snuck his thin snout around the counter and nuzzled Sterling’s leg, nose cold against her stocking. Perhaps he recognized her perfume. Or, more likely, he’d sniffed the chorizo in her coat pocket that Fernando had provided for this exact purpose. Sterling fed it to him, and he yelped in delight. A chastising whistle shot their way, aimed at Otis, but it made Sterling’s ears perk up.
Harry slunk along the counter, balancing a tub of ice on her shoulder. Her shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbows and held down with garters. Whew. Nothing like a muscular forearm to rile Sterling up. There was no way Harry had earned that tan in Vienna.
Harry didn’t acknowledge Sterling. Doing so risked fanning the jealousy of countless women waving cash in bids for the barkeep’sattention. Instead, she eyed Sterling in the mirror behind the bar and gave her a subtle wink. She tipped top-shelf gin into a shaker and tossed Sterling a wry smile as she turned, pouring the martini as she spun. Harry garnished it with five olives, then slid it across the counter. Sterling took her martinis as filthy as her thoughts. This one would suffice.
Harry clasped her hands behind her back. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns… how are you, sweetheart? I’ve been meaning to call.”
No she fucking hadn’t.
“I guess they didn’t have telephones wherever you were?” said Sterling.
“What matters is I’m back and staring at the face I missed most.”
“Save your sweet talk.”
Harry snapped her suspenders. “Someone’s feeling feisty. Tell me, why’s the most gorgeous dame in Vienna sulking at my bar, looking as salty as an olive?”
“I doubt I’m the only scorned woman you’ve encountered since you got back. Which waswhen, exactly?”
Harry ignored the question. “You seem tense, sugar. Why don’t I help you relax later?”
Sterling ignored the offer. Fernando had prepared three bribes. Otis was at Harry’s feet, enjoying the first. Sterling searched her coat’s deep pocket and took the tamer of the remaining two, leaving the length of jute rope. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to play. Okay, even at her most exhausted, she kept an emergency fuel reserve for a bit of lascivious activity. She placed a bag of gummy frogs on the counter.
Harry smiled. “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” She crinkled the bag, squinting suspiciously. “Given the daggers you’re shooting my way, I’m inclined to wonder if they’re safe to eat. What’s the catch?”
“We need to talk. About Hedy. I know she was here last night.”
“Yeah, she was here, met some john. Why?”
Sterling downed her drink, then lowered her voice and said, “I’m sure you’ll hear tomorrow, but for now, no one knows this. Hedy’s dead.”
Harry flinched. “Wow. I don’t know what to say, kid. What a loss. She’ll be missed.”
She reached out as if to lay a comforting hand over Sterling’s. “You okay?” she said, tugging the glass stem. Her concern was for the empty drink, not the bereft woman clutching it. Sterling relinquished it, and Harry replaced it with a fresh dirty martini before capping the bottle on their conversation.
“My condolences, sweetheart. But I can’t have pretty women crying in the bar or brokenhearted men leaving alone. Verena’s right there, she’ll lose it if she overhears. Better she learn it from a friend like you, but why not be her friendtomorrowand let her enjoy the night,” said Harry, cocking her head towards the brunette.
“Don’t worry. Madame swore me to secrecy. I’ll keep the ladies of the evening content if you tell me about the guy Hedy was with. Madame said he wasn’t a client.”
“You spoke with Madame? Damn. That’s more shocking than your other news.”
“Yeah, you seem oddly unsurprised about Hedy.”
“Easy, kid. I had a hint something was awry. Fella at the corner table came in earlier asking about her. He’s looking our way, so a little subtlety wouldn’t hurt.”
Sterling eyed the corner table in the mirror. There, a bit underdressed for the Loos Bar, was Detective Andreas Wolke. He swirled the ice in his whiskey and sipped, pretending not to watch Sterling over the rim.
Harry shook a martini no one had ordered, obscuring her voice with rattling ice and hiding her face behind the shaker: “Hedy’s datewas messy, but a real whale. He bought three rounds for the entire bar.”
