Sophie would consider a charity donation an unnecessary expense. Then Sophie began to smile. A decidedly evil smile that Annie didn’t like one bit.
“So what you’re telling me,” Sophie began, “is that I just paid five thousand dollars for an attractive, successful, intelligent man who is going to take you to spend the night in one of the most beautiful towns in the United States, and that you refuse to go.”
“That’s right,” Annie told her. “I refuse to go.”
“How about if I bribe you?”
Annie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of bribe?”
“How about if I double the amount I just paid for him and donate it to Homestead House? Then would you go?”
Annie stood to meet her sister’s gaze levelly at that. “Ten thousand dollars to Homestead?”
Sophie nodded, her smile growing broader.
“That’s a low blow, Sophie.”
“Yes, I know, but hey, it’s tax deductible, right? Philip wouldn’t care. He’d think it was a sweet gesture for me to make. Besides, it will work, won’t it?”
Annie didn’t have to think twice. Homestead House was a juvenile home that she and her husband had started ten years ago and that she had kept going after his death. She had met Mark Malone in college, where they were both studying social work. Upon graduation, they’d scraped together personal funds, found a few backers, and won a few government grants, and had pooled the money to buy an old, dilapidated house in one of Philadelphia’s less-thandesirable neighborhoods. They’d brought it up to code, and had then turned it into a haven for kids who got lost in the system and had nowhere else to go, no one left to turn to.
Even during the best of times, Annie had to scramble to make ends meet and keep Homestead House open. Ten thousand dollars would buy a lot of the things she needed.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she agreed. “But only because of Homestead.”
Sophie shook her head in amazement. “Little Annie Malone,” she muttered in the way that Annie had always hated. “Still thinks she can save the world from itself after all these years. Well, let me tell you something, little sister. Something I learned a long time ago. The world’s a brittle, ugly place, and nothing you can do will ever change that. You better get yours while you can and enjoy it, and then watch your back. Because nothing in this life is worth much, but there’s always someone who wants to take it away from you anyhow.”
Annie nodded, not in agreement, but because this was the same philosophy Sophie had been spouting since they were adolescents. “Maybe that’s what you believe,” she said softly, “but I see things a little differently. You’ve got your life, Sophie, and I’ve got mine. As brittle and ugly as you think it is, I find it very rewarding.”
Sophie smiled. “Not as rewarding as the one this guy could give you,” she said. “Just you wait. One night with him, one little taste of the good life he has to offer, and you’ll want more. And the more you see of his way of life, the more you’ll like it. Just you wait, Annie. You’re in for a treat. Once you’ve sipped his wine, you’ll never go back to that crummy tenement you call home again. I guarantee it.”
Sophie turned then to cut her way through the crowd and pay for her purchase, and Annie followed obediently behind. Her sister was wrong about her life and her life-style, Annie knew. But there would be no arguing with Sophie about that tonight. At the moment, all Annie cared about was the ten thousand dollars she’d be depositing into the Homestead account Monday morning. She decided to start her shopping list with athletic equipment and work her way through the alphabet to the zoo trip she’d always wanted to take with her kids but had considered too frivolous. By the end of the week, she thought with a smile, she was going to have some very happy children on her hands.
She would also be packing for a weekend that was certain to wind up being disastrous. Oh, well, she thought. Ten grand was ten grand. She’d walk over fire to get that much money for her kids. How bad could a weekend in Cape May be, even if her companion would more than likely turn out to be a jerk? If nothing else, the fresh ocean breeze would be a welcome change over the stale, stagnant city air she was so used to breathing. And it would be nice to walk along the beach again, moonlit or not.
Fresh air and a view of the ocean, she marveled as she watched Sophie carelessly write out a check for five thousand dollars and hand it to the cashier. Two things that brought pleasure without costing a dime. It was a lesson her sister could stand to learn, and, judging by the high price tag on his offered date, something the bachelor onstage might benefit from, too.
But it wasn’t up to her to teach that lesson, Annie thought. It was only up to her to watch out for her kids. And like a protective female animal stalking the wild, she’d do whatever she had to do to make sure her brood was protected. Above all else, Annie Malone would always make sure her kids came first.
Ike breezed through the curtain and met his sister backstage feeling buoyant, lusty and full of anticipation. “I owe you,” he told Nora as he embraced her fiercely. “I owe you big. Did you get a load of the woman who bought me?”
He felt Nora nod against his shoulder. “Oh, I got a load, all right.”
Ike sighed wistfully. “I can think of no greater pleasure on earth than to be owned by that woman for an entire night.”
“I told you it would all work out,” Nora said when he released her. She twisted her mouth into a wry grin. “St. Bernadette’s gets five thousand dollars, and you get that great set of hooters you wanted. Well, my, my, my. Isn’t the world a lovely place?”
“Oh, Mr. Guthrie.”
Ike turned to find his new owner passing through the curtain behind him as gracefully as she would if borne on wings. While he was onstage, he had been fearful that in good light some of her dazzle would diminish. But he’d been wrong. Good light only made the woman even more radiant. He didn’t so much approach her as he was drawn to her. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to take her hand in his.
“Hello, Ms…?” he began as he drew nearer.
“I’m Sophia Marchand,” she said as he reached for her hand.
But she stepped away before he could curl his fingers around hers, then thrust another woman forward to take her place—a drab, colorless creature who faded to nearly nothing beside her iridescent sponsor. Ike’s gaze flickered over the newcomer for scarcely a second before returning to the woman who had launched a variety of previously undiscovered fantasies in his brain.
“And this is my sister, Anna,” she told him. “I’ve bought you for her. She’s so looking forward to the weekend you have planned. Enjoy.”
And with that, the woman smiled and turned away, exiting through the curtain as quickly and completely as a magician’s assistant disappears into the black beyond.
A mouse, Ike thought as he gave the other woman another quick once-over. His gorgeous peacock bad bestowed upon him a mouse to take her place.
“Annie,” the mouse said quietly. Her voice was huskier than he would have thought, but he got the feeling she would indeed squeak when she reached the proper decibel. “My name is Annie. Annie Malone.”
She extended a hand toward him and smiled, a smile that was pleasant and harmless and rather pretty in a wholesome kind of way. In spite of her smile, however, Ike somehow got the impression that she was no more pleased by this turn of events than he was.
“Ike Guthrie.” he replied automatically, taking her hand in his.
Her hand was small, a bit rough, and in no way decorated. The woman who had bought him had been wearing rings on nearly every finger, and he’d already begun to indulge in all kinds of salacious imagery about her long, red nails. Annie’s hands didn’t evoke sensual pleasure. They evoked hard work. And her eyes didn’t promise untold realms of erotic discovery. They