Magnate (30 page)

She opened the door to the lobby. “Everything all right, Ava?” Gus eyed her carefully, gaze bouncing to the silent man behind her.

“Fine, Gus. Tell your sister I'll be by tomorrow. See you next week.”

He nodded, and she continued out the main doors. An early evening rain had fallen during her performance, cooling the air a bit more than one would expect in mid-spring. The gaslight from the street lamps cast a yellow glow over the dark, wet cobblestones. Ava loved the rain. It washed the city clean and provided the residents with a reprieve from the usual odors, those of sweat, offal, and horse.

“You've acquired quite a following for these shows.”

“You're still here?” She started walking, not caring whether he trailed after her. Unfortunately, his long legs had no problem keeping pace. “I'm very good at what I do, Mr. Sloane. Admit it, you were entertained.”

His mouth twisted as if he'd sucked a lemon. “I was offended, if you must know.”

Now at the corner, she crossed over Twenty-Seventh Street, heading south, and tried to contain her annoyance. “We don't serve champagne and caviar, so I can imagine what a hardship the evening was for you.”

“I was referring to the flimflam you performed on those poor, unsuspecting people.”

“Flimflam? Those ‘poor, unsuspecting people' wanted a show, and that's what I gave them. There's a reason I perform in a theater, and I'm damn good at what I do.”

“You take their money and pretend their dead relatives are speaking to you.”

He spoke to her as if she were a criminal, his tone condescending and cutting, and blood rushed in her ears. “First of all, how are you so certain my talents are not real?” He started to open his mouth, so she stopped on the sidewalk and pointed a finger in his face. “You don't have any idea, Mr. Sloane, so save your judgment. Second, I wasn't aware that your own business practices were always so scrupulous.” His eyes dimmed significantly, and she knew she'd landed a blow. “I'm sure while running a big railroad you never skirt the law or buy political favor. So save me your sanctimonious attitude.”

“Fine,” he snarled, leaning closer. “Run your con anywhere you want, sweetheart, but leave John Bennett alone.”

Sloane was tall, much larger than she, yet she didn't back down, not for one second. She'd already let one over-privileged, handsome man try to wreck her life. No way would she repeat the mistake.

She glared up at Will Sloane. “Not in your wildest dreams do I take orders from the likes of you. Go bully someone else.”

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Copyright © 2016 by Joanna Shupe

 

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ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3984-6
ISBN-10: 1-4201-3984-3

ISBN: 978-1-4201-3984-6