☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
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Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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Much against the warnings of Mr. Cavendish, and her own better judgment, Rose marched across the street and entered Gallagher Automotive Factory via the main entrance. She received strange looks of curiosity from countless men in coveralls as she made her way to the foreman's desk.
“Pardon the intrusion, sir,” Rose said to the harried employee.
He glanced up at her from his clipboard, startled. “Yes? Can I help you, Miss?”
“I hope so,” Rose answered. “I heard there was a job opening herein. I'd like to apply.”
The foreman openly gawked at Rose's sophisticated attire and prim posture. “No job for a lady like you, Miss. Hard labor, this is. Not suited for ya.”
Rose gave him a patient smile. “It is actually the secretarial position after which I'm inquiring,” she said. “For Mr. Gallagher?”
“Ah!” the foreman exclaimed. “Ya saw the advert in the paper, did ya?”
“Just so,” she fibbed.
“Brilliant, that,” he declared. “Mr. Gallagher will be pleased to have a serious candidate. Follow me. I'll introduce ya.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you so much,” Rose said.
She smiled to herself as she followed the foreman up a narrow flight of metal stairs toward a row of second story offices. All too easy. Perhaps she was, as William had said before the benefit, cunning.
【♖】
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“Gotta keep me employees in line.”
The verbalized motive behind Mr. Mercer's visit stunned Daphne. Had he lost his mind?
“So, you're sussing out dirt on Rose? Coming from you, that's almost laughable,” she declared. “If there were dirt, you would have found it. You've done your research, and you surveil her. Don't deny it. I know you were listening in on our telephone conversation the night she invited me to the benefit. I heard you on the line.”
Her unwanted guest merely shrugged. “My house, my telephone, my employee. If I want to listen in, I'm at liberty to do so.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “Mr. Mercer, Rose is my cousin. The dearest to me of the whole throng. If her past contained ‘dirt’ of any kind — and I'm not saying it does — I would protect it, not share it with vultures like you.”
