A Wild Surge of Guilty Passion

Judd grinned. “Oh. Are you a tom-boy?”

“Kitty calls me that because my friends are mostly men.”

“And why’s that?”

She said with that silky caress of a voice, “Oh, who knows? I guess because they’re so safely predictable in some ways. And unpredictable in others.”

Harry called out, “Olaf! A ginger ale for Mr. Gray.”

“Me too,” Kitty said.

Seeing Ruth’s highball glass was still full, Harry called out, “Three,” and finished his own. And then, out of nowhere, Harry hiked up Kitty’s calf as high as his chest. “Wouldja look at the shapely ankles on this gal?”

Kitty just laughed and swatted his hands off. Judd was sure, then, that these were fast “delicatessen” ladies, and he looked at Ruth so intently her face got hot. “You’re very tan,” he said.

“We just got back from a weekend sailing on the Atlantic.”

“We?”

“The husband, me, and the baby.” Ruth looked at his nicely manicured left hand. “I see you’re manacled too.”

Judd glanced at his gold wedding ring. “Almost ten years now. Isabel. And I have an eight-year-old. Jane. She’ll be nine in August.”

“Mine’s seven. Lorraine.”

“Oh. You said ‘baby.’ I was imagining a child—”

“The size of a shoebox?”

Judd laughed, and the ginger ales were served, again two-thirds full and with a spoon. Harry screwed off the cap on his hammered silver flask. “Shall I?”

Judd shoved his highball glass forward. “Homemade?”

Harry filled the glasses. “Certainly not, old fellow! Shipped from the Beefeater distillery by way of our friends in Canada.”

Judd lifted his glass. “Well, here’s to the Eighteenth Amendment.”

Harry rejoined, “And may Congress prohibit sex just as effectively.”

Kitty giggled, and Harry gave Judd a lewd wink.

Ruth angled her head. “Are you employed, Mr. Gray?”

Harry told the ladies, “Judd sells for Benjamin and Johnes.”

“Sells what?” Kitty asked.

“The Bien Jolie line,” Judd said. “Corselettes and brassieres. I handle the retailers in eastern Pennsylvania and upstate New York. Our corporate offices are just a stone’s throw from here—Thirty-fourth and Fifth.”

Harry’s hand heavily fell on Ruth’s as he said, “And I’ll make sure his office gets you anything you want, sweetie. How about it, Bud?”

Judd felt forced to say, “Always glad to be of service.”

Kitty already seemed tipsy as she asked, “What kind of fella sells corsets?”

Judd told her, “A fellow who’s fond of the female form.”

Ruth smiled. “You must get asked that question a lot.”