tilted in acknowledgment. “Major Eric von Schlegel. Minister of Culture and Social Movement in France.”
“Quite a title.”
“Quite a responsibility.”
“I’m sure. Promoting movies and music is difficult when trying to appease the masses.”
The German’s nostrils flared in disdain. “My mission is not to appease but to inform. The only difficulty is cleansing out the rot that came before me.”
“Aye, I did notice a few of the floorboards going bad the last time I was at Bobino’s. Miss Baker was known to drop a few banana peels during her performances, which probably contributed to the problem.”
Confusion flickered in cold blue eyes. Then slow recognition that snapped to revulsion. “Miss Baker, if you can call her a ‘miss,’ has no place on a stage. She and others of her undesirable kind will be expunged from their hovels to make way for the pure artists of the Fatherland.”
Just what the world stage needs. Bony-kneed men in lederhosen leaping to the rousing tune of an accordion. They’d have the Garnier smelling of sauerkraut in no time.
Sam’s muted coronet billowed across the room like a warm breeze, assuaging the anger building in Barrett’s chest. Sam was the most talented musician he’d ever met and a loyal friend. God-fearing as well, with barely two farthings to rub together, he’d give you the shirt off his back. And in the eyes of the Third Reich, he was considered an undesirable because of the blood that ran in his veins and those of his forefathers.
Before he could put his fist into the buffoon’s face, Corbin rescued him with a bottle of champagne. Shooing his man away, Barrett tucked the bottle under his arm and popped the cork. Golden froth spilled from the mouth, splattering on the floor. Two drops plopped on von Schlegel’s shiny toe. Kathleen’s lip curled as she noticed the damage. If he wasn’t inwardly grinning from his own satisfaction, Barrett would pull her aside for a short lesson in controlling her expressions better.
Pouring three glasses, he set the bottle in a bucket of ice. Kathleen reached forward, brushing his hand as she took her bubbling goblet. Her fingers tingled icy cold despite the almost-ninety-degreee temperature outside. Poor lass. The telltale nerves would give her away before long.
Snatching the cork from the floor, Barrett pushed it into his pocket. “Enjoy, and don’t hesitate to call out for more.”
“Oh, no! You must join us.” To the chagrin of her tablemates, Eleanor patted the space next to her. “I insist, from one spectacular host to another.”
Grabbing an empty chair from the next table, he settled between the sisters. He couldn’t have situated himself in the viper’s nest more perfectly if he’d planned it himself. “Who am I to refuse such a request? Hope you don’t mind sharing the company of these beautiful ladies, von Schlegel.”
“Of course not, as long as you know one is spoken for.” His long fingers closed over Eleanor’s hand. “And it’s Major. We officers have earned the right for our rank to be used in address.”
“Eric, you’re so stuffy sometimes.” Eleanor laughed on a puff of smoke. “Can you believe the sourpusses I surround myself with? Oh, dear, you don’t have a glass.”
Barrett waved off the glass she tried pushing in front of him. “No, thank you. I prefer to keep a clear head during work hours. Never know when you have to jump in the middle of a crisis.”
Kathleen twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers, swirling the bubbling liquid into a tiny whirlpool. “Such as running out of clean glasses?”
A laugh scratched his throat. So there was a sense of humor brewing under that stiff upper lip after all. “More like breaking up drunken fights in the back alley and poring over the ledgers until the wee hours of the morning. It’s a dull life I lead, but I’d have it no other way.”
Her fair eyebrows lifted. “And how does one get into the dull trade of bartending? Lifelong aspiration, or profound knowledge of brews that you had to share with the rest of the world?”
“My da was a brewmaster, so it was likely I’d follow in his footsteps in some way, but being under another man’s thumb was no life for me. If I have a lifetime of work ahead of me, then I’m going to be my own boss.”
A dark cloud passed over her face. She blinked it away before he had time to decipher it. “Why come so far from home?”
“Not much to recommend me back in Glasgow.