don’t mind,” Shirley said. “I’ve washed dishes my entire life.”
“How long have you been in California?” Julia asked as she walked back to the stove.
“Not long,” Shirley answered.
“Where you from?”
“Nebraska.”
They talked as they worked. Julia cooking and carrying plates out the door, and Shirley washing and putting away dishes. Julia said she’d never been anywhere except California and Shirley explained that she came here to become a singer and how she’d got the job at CB’s.
Another woman, Greta, who was a waitress, buzzed through the door with dirty dishes and back out with plates full of food at regular intervals. She was young, with dark brown hair, friendly green eyes and a giggle in her voice despite the pace at which she moved.
The pace at which they all worked slowly tapered until it nearly came to a stop. Shirley wiped down all the counters and washed out the sink while Julia scrubbed down the long flat grill on one side of the stove that also had six burners on the other side. On her last trip through the door, Greta had carried a broom and dustpan.
“You must have a lot of customers,” Shirley said, hanging her wet dishcloth over the edge of the sink.
“We did today,” Julia answered. “Some days are like that. Breakfast is usually our slowest meal.”
“You’ll do this all over again for lunch and supper?” Shirley asked. That’s how it had been at the Swaggerts’. As soon as she’d finished cleaning up after one meal, it had been time to start the next one.
“Yes. We’ll close for a few hours now and then again in the afternoon. If not, I’d have a room full of freeloaders sitting in the diner, doing nothing but staring across the street.”
“Why? What’s across the street?”
“Star’s Studio.” Julia opened one of the three refrigerators lined along the far wall. “I’ll fry you some ham and eggs now. How do you want your eggs?”
“You just cleaned the stove,” Shirley said, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to get it dirty just for me.”
“It’ll get dirty soon enough, anyway. I’ll have to make something to take up to the other girls.” Julia grinned. “I told Rosie to keep all of you girls out there until I sent word that the coast was clear.”
“I didn’t know that,” Shirley said. “The rest of them were still sleeping when I left.”
“I figured as much, and needed the help, so didn’t mind in the least.” She slapped a slice of ham on the stove and cracked open an egg. “Over easy?”
Shirley’s stomach had been growling for the last hour. The aromas had been the reason. That and she was hungry. “That will be fine. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Julia said, cracking a second egg. “Greta and I were just about drowning when you opened the door.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Shirley said. Then, because she truly wanted to know, she asked, “What’s Star’s Studio?”
Julia’s dark brows tugged together. “It’s a movie studio. Jack McCarney owns it and makes some of Hollywood’s best movies over there.”
“They make movies right in the middle of town?” Shirley wasn’t sure where she’d expected movies to be made, but it wasn’t in the middle of town. Then again, she’d never seen a movie, so knew very little about them.
“Yes, there are studios all over this part of the city.” Julia flipped the ham and eggs onto a plate. “Let’s go sit down.”
The front room of the diner was long and narrow, with tables and chairs, and a long counter with stools. The entire room was red, black and white, including the checkered floor. They sat at a table, and Greta carried over three cups of coffee.
“So you worked at CB’s,” Greta said, sitting down at the table.
Shirley could only nod because she’d poked a fork full of food into her mouth. It tasted so good compared to what she ate at CB’s.
“Roy Harrison con you into that?” Greta asked. “He tried that on me, but I’d heard to be wary of him and his two-bit contracts.”
The food turned cold in Shirley’s mouth, not so much at Greta’s words, but with the disgust with which she said them.
“You don’t have to worry about that any longer,” Julia said. “Walter said those contracts are full of holes, as close to being illegal as they come, and that he’ll be able to get you and Rita and Alice out of them.”
One word stuck in Shirley’s mind. “Walter?” Her mouth had gone dry. Like it or not, he was stuck in her head, and her heart fluttered at memories of last night, when she’d been pressed up against the wall, his face inches from hers.
Julia’s smile grew. “Walter Russell. You should count yourself lucky he’s offered to help. He’s one of the best lawyers in California. If not the best.”
This time it was Shirley’s blood that went cold. “A lawyer?” His calling card, still tucked beneath her pillow at CB’s, flashed in her head. “The Russell Firm is a law firm?”
* * *
Walter peeked through the window while walking toward the door of the diner. Blondie was sitting at a table with Julia and Greta. Rosie and the other two cigarette girls were nowhere in sight. He’d been here earlier this morning, convinced the police that Rosie had only called Julia for a ride last night, and that they had no legal reason to be looking for her. As far as the other girls, he’d said he was their lawyer, and that all questions toward them needed to come through him.
After the police left, he’d gone to his office, created and made copies of three representation contracts, which were now in his satchel, and called Mel Cartwright to inform him that the three women were now ex-employees and all communications needed to go through him. Now he just needed their signatures to make it all legal.
He wasn’t too concerned about Rita and Alice, but Blondie was a different story. She hadn’t believed him about jaywalking or going home, so convincing her this was the only legal way to get out of the contract she’d signed with Cartwright’s wasn’t going to be quick or simple. He’d done his research last night. Not only had he discovered all of the women’s full names, this morning he’d been able to obtain a copy of what Cartwright had coerced girls to sign. It was more in-depth than he’d imagined. Which also made them more binding. Hence the reason very few lawyers would even listen to girls that had come to them for help once they’d realized how trapped they’d accidently become.
That didn’t faze him. He’d already discovered the loopholes he needed. A part of him wondered if he’d lost his senses. Gone over the deep end. He didn’t know these women. In fact, if one of them had approached him, asked him to take on a case against CB’s, he’d have referred them to someone else.
He provided pro bono services on a regular basis, but they were usually for business deals, those starting up, just getting established, or for nonprofit groups. Contracts were his specialty. He thrived on getting the best deal possible for his clients.
It didn’t make a lot of sense to become involved as deeply as he had already, but he was excited about it. Blondie was the reason. She was full of spunk, but that would only get her hurt here. He had to make her see that, and get her out before it was too late.
He tapped on the window of the diner’s door. Julia rose from her chair to open the door, but it was Blondie’s reaction that made him wonder all over again exactly what the hell he was doing. Her blue eyes shot daggers at him. He sucked in air. Helping someone who didn’t want help was hell. Plain and simple. But he didn’t need another Theodore or Lucy on his conscience.
“Hello,