his gray suit and crimson tie. Gloria didn’t care who was in this band—if Jerome wasn’t in it, no way would it be the best she’d ever worked with. The nervousness she’d felt a moment earlier paled in comparison to the worry that clenched at her stomach. Hank had promised to find Jerome but hadn’t turned up any information yet.
Yet here Gloria was, living an easy life of luxury with a man she was supposed to be investigating. What if she couldn’t dig up any dirt on Forrest—would Hank send her right back to jail? Would he stop looking for Jerome?
Misreading the worry on her face, Forrest added, “Baby doll, everyone here knows who you are! And they’re on your side! How about you come out to the party with me and see?”
There had to be a way out of this … except Gloria realized she didn’t want a way out. She wanted to sing. That was about all she could be certain of in this strange new world.
And she couldn’t afford to make Forrest unhappy. His trust was the only bargaining chip she’d managed to gain during her stay at his villa.
“You go on,” she said. “I’ve gotta go fix my munitions if I’m going onstage.”
“That’s my girl.” Forrest put a gentle hand on her arm. “Really, thank you for stepping in, Glo.”
Forrest’s touch gave her chills. “Erm, of course,” she mumbled as he left.
Gloria sighed and thought of Jerome again, how long it had been since she’d felt so much as his hand on her arm. She would keep fighting for her freedom so the two of them could finally be together.
Quickly, she ran upstairs, into the bedroom Forrest had said she could use as long as she wanted. It reminded her of her room back in Chicago: truly lavish. A four-poster bed with its burgundy hangings stood next to a large window with a glorious view of the front lawn. A huge oak vanity took up most of one wall.
She crossed to the vanity and grabbed a tube of lipstick. That wasn’t the real reason she was here, though.
Her ring.
She wasn’t supposed to wear her engagement ring—Hank’s orders—but after watching Forrest and Ruby, she was missing Jerome more than ever. Surely she could hide the ring under her dress. Would it be so wrong to keep it close by, to remind herself of why she was doing all this? Besides, Forrest already knew about Jerome, and he didn’t care.
Gloria opened the drawer and pulled out a long white silk glove. She removed the chain from inside the glove, where she always kept it, and felt instantly calmer with the ring in her hands. To think how she would’ve mocked the ring’s tiny diamond and its simple gold band back in Chicago! Now it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen—its sparkle outshone the sequins on her dress and all the resplendent guests downstairs.
Gloria fastened the ring around her neck and hid it beneath her dress. The gold chain was definitely visible in the mirror, but it actually looked pretty nice with the rest of her outfit. Hopefully none of the guests would ask to see it—she wouldn’t want to explain why she was hiding an engagement ring. And even in these progressive circles, where having an exonerated criminal perform was a novelty, folks would be much less welcoming if they knew she was still involved with Jerome Johnson.
With one more sweep of rouge against her cheekbones, Gloria walked into the hallway. At the end of the hall were the double doors to Forrest’s bedroom suite—she felt drawn to them like a magnet. Forrest was busy with his guests; no way would he show up now. Maybe Forrest himself wouldn’t admit anything to Gloria about the source of his wealth. But who knew what Gloria might find in Forrest’s bedroom? A closet full of cash? Stacks of correspondence with nefarious mobsters? Her feet led her closer, past the gilded framed paintings, her heels padding softly on the plush carpet.
Finally she reached the heavy wooden doors.
She reached out her hand, her fingers touching the cool glass knob. One twist and she would be inside. Names flashed through her mind: Hank, Jerome. If anyone caught her she could just say she was searching for a lost earring. Was there any good reason to think it would be in Forrest’s room? No.
But sometimes a girl didn’t need a good reason.
Gloria turned the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked.