The Vaudeville Star

The picnic basket lay on the floor at his feet, and he told her he’d had his cook prepare something especially for her. She smiled at the thoughtful gesture, and when the park came into sight, she saw that it was indeed a green jewel amid the concrete chaos.

“I would never have guessed this was here.” She smiled.

“Exactly so.”

He helped her down from the car and took the basket in hand. “You pick the spot.”

Ruby found a large tree on a sunken bank, and he took the blanket he held and placed it on the ground. When they settled upon it, he took out the different items his cook had prepared. Among the delicacies were fried chicken, cheese, bread, and beer. There were also tart green apples and oranges.

“I believe the fried chicken is for you. I told Cook to prepare something Southern,” he beamed, “for you.”

“That was very thoughtful, King.”

When the meal was consumed, they remained seated on the blanket in silence until King looked over at Ruby. “I told Vernon I would give serious

contemplation about financially backing the tour to London. And I am. But I want you to have a role in the show, and if we tour Europe, an even bigger role.”

“You hardly know me,” Ruby said, looking at him.

“I’m smitten, Ruby. That’s the truth. I’m smitten with you.”

“Will—I mean King. You don’t know me. You shouldn’t say these things, especially as you are married,” Ruby said, feeling uncomfortable.

“I’ve succeeded because I can see things that most people can’t. I see what will be—long before anyone else. I see you. I see the star you were born to be, Ruby. And right now all I ask is that you allow me to help you. Nothing more. And allow me to admire you. From afar.”

“King—”

“As to my wife, Caroline, she and I married as a business transaction. Her family came from money, and I have my own. It was never a love match, but I have given her a home and my name. But she is ill. She has consumption. We will never have any children, as it could kill her.” He looked away and seemed lost in thought until he remembered her seated next to him. “But enough of this. The afternoon grows late. Let’s get you home.”

As Ruby opened the door to the boardinghouse, a quiet stillness surrounded her. Then she remembered today was Mrs. Hodges’s quilting circle, and most of the vaudeville performers spent the afternoons out shopping. She climbed the stairs to her room with her thoughts focused on the afternoon she had just spent with King.

He was a powerful man, willing to help her. If it was true that he asked for nothing, then she could hardly push him away, especially if it meant the other troupers would benefit from her association with him.

She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear her name being called. When a hand reached out to touch her shoulder, she whirled around.

“Ruby!” Ford said.

“Ford!” She was shocked to see him there. “What are you doing here? Luckily, Mrs. Hodges is out this afternoon. She’s very particular. She doesn’t like us to have gentlemen callers.”

She unlocked her door and entered her room, and he followed.

“And how many gentlemen callers do you have? I mean besides me and King,” he said, and Ruby recognized the jealousy in his voice.

She unpinned her hat and took off her gloves. “How did you find me?”

“I have my ways.”

Ruby turned to him and tried not to focus on his broad shoulders and handsome face. She had always liked her room with the hardwood floors and the curved window seat that overlooked the street, but with Ford in it, the room seemed small.

“You said you were colleagues when we met. What does that mean?” she asked.

“I do jobs for him sometimes. I joined the Pinkerton Detective Agency. He’s a client.”

“You’re a detective?”

“Yes.”

“But why? You have the plantation. You’ll inherit it.”