and Beatrice preferred to sing ridiculous and ribald tunes in their deep masculine voices. The way June especially sauntered off the stage and deposited herself into the laps of obviously married men always had him in stitches.
Except tonight. His mind was elsewhere, and his mood wasn’t one that could be brightened by song or dance.
After June, Gladys strode out onto the stage in a short, beaded red dress, an ink-black bob wig, and scorching red lipstick that perfectly matched her high-heeled shoes. As she always did onstage, she wore long gloves but left her shoulders bare, which seemed to drive every man in the room wild.
Danny’s heart always did a little flutter whenever he saw her dressed for the stage. She was simply stunning. He could still see the hints of who she was by day—her broad shoulders, her narrow hips, the angle of her jaw that makeup couldn’t quite hide—but like this, she was Gladys, through and through. The way she stood. The way she moved.
And God in heaven, the way this woman sang.
Gladys had a sultry, smoky voice that could still every conversation in the room and hold every man completely enraptured until she’d sung the last note. A newspaper review last year had said she had “the voice of an angel unaware she’s singing for the Devil.” No one had ever been sure if the critic had meant it as a compliment, or if it was a jab at Daisy’s clientele, but Danny certainly agreed that Gladys had the voice of an angel. Tonight, maybe it wasn’t enough to lift his mood, but it was enough to distract him, if only for a few minutes.
But only for a few minutes, because it was nearly half past nine when she stepped off the stage. Soon, Danny’s crew would be arriving, and they weren’t going to be happy with him.
Once Gladys had finished, she sauntered back to the bar, offering flirty waves and blown kisses at the patrons who catcalled her. In the front, a man in a sailor uniform had clearly been trying to flirt with her, especially between songs, and now he tried desperately to get her attention. Danny chuckled to himself. The sailor could flirt all he wanted—most of the singers in this place could be charmed into a man’s bed for a night, but not Gladys.
Gladys gave the sailor a cheeky wave and called out, “Come back when you’re older and saltier, lad,” and then she sauntered off the stage as the other men laughed at the young sailor’s blush.
Behind the bar again, Gladys took a deep swallow of brandy, and as she put down the glass, her eyes landed on Danny. “What’s troubling you tonight?”
He laughed halfheartedly. “Am I that obvious?”
She cocked her head and shot him a look. “Maybe not to anyone else, but you’re not getting nothing past me.” She picked up her cigarette holder and a book of matches. “So come on, then. What’s on your mind?”
Danny sighed, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. Keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry far through the noise of the club, he said, “It’s this new job for me and the lads. I just don’t think they’ll…”
Gladys took a drag, then turned her head to blow out the smoke, the cigarette holder dangling between her gloved fingers. “You haven’t committed them to it, have you? You lads all work alone sometimes, right?”
“Aye, we do.” Danny folded his hands on the bar and met her kohl-ringed brown eyes. “But I worry they’ll be angry at me just for suggesting it. And for taking it myself if they don’t.”
She pursed her lips before bringing the cigarette up again. “Is the job worth it?”
“I…” His shoulders fell. “I don’t know anymore, if I’m honest. I don’t think I can say no. Because…”
Gladys nodded. “Aye, I suppose you can’t.”
“And I need them. He wants the whole crew, not just me.”
“Well, if they aren’t interested…” She shrugged. “Then I reckon you’ll need a new crew.”
He wanted to say, “Or I’ll tell Carmine I’m not taking the job after all,” but he wasn’t so sure that was an option anymore. Both because of the il Sacchis, and also because Carmine had given him the details of the job. The lads still had a choice. Danny… He was committed unless he wanted two gangs out for his blood.
He shuddered.
Gladys put her hand on his forearm. “Talk to them. They may not be happy, but they trust you.”
With a