fully. “As I said, the family is divided. There are some who see Tony’s untimely demise as the perfect opportunity to undermine one of our rivals. In which case, it might be useful if you skipped town for a while, until an alternate, more advantageous fall guy is handed over to the commissioner.”
“But you just said Jimmy would be in danger if I ran.”
“Who said anything about running? I’m talking about taking a job elsewhere, until the heat is off. I made some calls this morning. Called in a few favors to see what I could do for you. Turns out someone important, someone connected to another branch of the family, has a problem that needs taking care of.”
A dozen possibilities for what might be asked of her raced through her mind, each more damning than the last. She shook her head. “I won’t kill anyone, Sal.”
“Lily.” Sal gave her another disapproving look, his third of the morning. “You should know better than to think I would ask that of you.”
Vi knew no such thing but decided it was in her best interest not to say so.
Sal continued, “As I was saying, I have a friend who needs a song and dance gal, someone who is available immediately but also one with a squeaky-clean past. One that even the most persnickety of society matrons wouldn’t turn up her nose at.”
Vi huffed in disbelief. “You do realize my being a stripper who used to turn tricks is hardly the definition of squeaky clean.”
“On the surface, sure. But don’t sell yourself short. While you might have had a couple of bad breaks recently, at your core you’re a good kid. You got heart. You got class. If you put your mind to it, and a new name, no one would guess you’re anything but an all-American sweetheart.”
“Maybe no one except all the men who have seen me perform.”
Sal waved his hand dismissively. “Men have short memories. Trust me.”
She plucked at her damp blouse and took a deep breath. “All right. Since I seem to be low on options, might as well tell me the rest.”
“The good news? You’ll be performing with the USO, onstage, as part of a legitimate Broadway-style musical—all on the up-and-up, with no nudity. And it’s scheduled to go on tour shortly, out of New York.”
She laughed without humor. “And your friend couldn’t find someone on his own to take the part? That makes no sense. I would think there’d be a thousand girls willing to sell their soul for a traveling Broadway show.”
“Maybe, but there’s another part to the job. And this is where the rub lies: there is a very important person—actually the daughter of this very important person—also in the show. You would be expected to keep an eye on her without letting her know.”
“So, I’m to babysit a Mob princess on the sly.” Her head started to throb again.
“No, no. The daughter is no baby. She’s eighteen. And apparently very headstrong. Willing to disregard the express wishes of her father, to the point of putting herself in mortal danger. This, of course, he cannot allow, but finds himself helpless to stop her.”
Vi frowned. “I’m not wild about that ‘mortal danger’ part, and I don’t know what you expect me to do about it. I’m a dancer, not a bodyguard.”
“Which is exactly why you would be perfect. Having had no experience with traveling overseas, or even being away from home, the daughter will need a confidante, a friend to guide her. Someone to keep her away from handsome GIs and out of minefields.”
“While I can probably do the former, assuming the girl will listen, war zones are outside of my area of expertise.”
“Which is why you’d be only responsible for keeping her with the others and away from amorous soldiers.”
“For how long?” She couldn’t believe she was actually considering such a ludicrous assignment.
“Three months.”
“Not a chance.” She held up her hand to stop Sal’s protest. “Even if I could deceive the USO into thinking I was some kind of Snow White, I can’t be away from Jimmy that long.”
“Actually, I think the correct verb is won’t, since you’re not actually caring for him. But consider this: If you go to jail, how long will that keep you away from your son?”
She glanced back at the playground, at Jimmy, her headache turning into a migraine. “What if I dye my hair and change my name again?”
Sal sighed. “Be reasonable, Lily.”
“And why can’t a powerful Mob boss rein