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Ling reached for her crutches. “I’m always hungry.”
Alma smiled brightly. “Miss Chan, you are going to eat like a queen today. Do you like pork?”
“I’m half Chinese,” Ling said, as if that should settle it.
“I better shove off, too,” Memphis said.
Theta came and stood by his side as he put on his coat and wrapped the scarf she’d given him as a Christmas present around his neck. “Hey,” Theta said, smiling shyly.
“Hey,” Memphis said back without smiling.
“Nice scarf.”
Memphis said nothing.
“I saw that Langston Hughes is giving a reading up at City College,” Theta tried. “I thought maybe we could go if—”
“I’m busy,” Memphis said.
“Memphis…” Theta started.
“Isaiah’s waiting. ’Scuse me,” Memphis said, brushing past her.
Theta looked to Henry, who came and hugged her. She felt like crying but she couldn’t. Not yet. She still had to meet with Roy.
Theta had arranged to have lunch with Roy at a restaurant not too far from the theater. She’d wanted to be in a public place, where he couldn’t do anything to her. It had been a few days since his ultimatum, and she still hadn’t figured out what to say to Mr. Ziegfeld. She wished she could make it all go away.
When she saw Roy sitting at a table at the back, Theta’s stomach clenched. Slowly, she made her way to him. He stood up, pretending to be a gentleman, not for her sake but for everybody watching, Theta knew. Before he could help her into her chair, Theta sat down across the table from him and ordered a coffee, black, no food. She didn’t plan to stay long.
“Gee, you look pretty, Betty. Sorry—Theta. Can’t get used to that,” Roy said. “’Course, I woulda picked a different name, something that didn’t make you look so highfalutin odd, but you probably didn’t give it much thought.”
Theta hated how that little slap he’d attached to the compliment got to her. She pulled out her cigarettes. Roy scowled. “Ladies shouldn’t smoke.”
Theta wanted to smoke, though. Badly. She wanted to blow the smoke in Roy’s face. At the thought, her hands warmed. What if the fire sparked here in the restaurant and everybody saw? She put the cigarettes away and dropped her trembling hands to her lap, relieved when they cooled once more.
“You talk to Mr. Ziegfeld yet?” Roy asked.
“I been trying. He’s been busy with a new show,” Theta lied.
Roy glowered. “That’s why you need me as your manager. I’ll get him to pay attention,” he said, and Theta cringed, imagining Roy acting overly familiar with Mr. Ziegfeld, embarrassing her. “As it happens, I’m making a name for myself here already. I been working for Dutch Schultz. You heard of him?”
“The gangster?”
“Gangster,” Roy scoffed. “He’s a businessman. A real regular fella! He’s taking over some nightclubs up in Harlem. Gonna let me run one.”
“Oh. Harlem, huh.”
“The coloreds don’t know what they’re doing. Dutch is gonna set up shop. He just needs those high-hat Negroes like Papa Charles and Madame Sera-something outta the way first. That’s where we come in.”
“Whaddaya mean?” Theta asked, her heart racing.
“That ain’t your business. It’s man business. You just keep singing and dancing and get me that meeting with your boss.”
“Yeah. Sure, Roy.”
“I gotta do some business for Dutch. I’ll be in and outta town over the next week or so. And when I get back, you have that meeting set up for me. Okay? I sure would hate for Mr. Ziegfeld to find out some other way that you got a husband, Betty,” Roy said with a satisfied smile.
Every bit of Theta’s fire left her. She was so cold inside. Cold and dead.
