The Cat and Mouse

Chapter 5

The end of March ushered in Spring, and as days grew warmer, nights with Fleur grew longer. Kay made a regular event out of hitting Club Carousel, rarely for a social drink or jazz serenade, but for a backstage tryst where Fleur welcomed him with an excessive kiss on both cheeks. The classic French tradition seemed ironic, considering what she imparted about her true origin. Perhaps she intended the greeting to be a reminder of the secret between them.

In the beginning, Kay worried that spending more time together would exhaust Fleur of her tricks—dissolving her grand, glittering illusion—but Fleur never ceased to surprise him, to utterly stupefy him. Her magic only grew the longer they spent. To him, she appeared even prettier with a few strands out of place, even more bewitching without the flashy costumes and props.

And oh how she laughed when they were together. It sounded like a songbird's, chirping and sweet. She had no shortage of supply while teasing him, but he didn't mind. His heart swelled at the very sound, and his cheeks ached from smiling with her.

Kay returned to bed each night, feeling as though he'd already woken from a dream. The tall stack of letters in his bedside drawer became his only remaining attachment to the real world, and it reminded him of another promise he made long before meeting Fleur. Papa had been his only companion, yet, Kay could not continue living for one person, alone. The solitude of life after papa without another to keep his company terrified him more than any financial or occupational stress, so he allowed his infatuation to flower.

Now, left with the difficult business of telling Papa about Fleur, he struggled to write a reply. Kay dodged any discussion of women and social affairs these past months, but he hated keeping her a secret. He wanted to tell Papa about the adorable stray curl of hair that brushed her cheek, the way she puckered her lips whenever showing off a new outfit. Kay wanted him to fall in love with every last detail as much as he had, but feared jinxing their affair before it even started. For all he knew, she might vanish before Papa had the chance to read his letter. And what would he think of a performer, a burlesque showgirl, no less? Stumbling on this thought every time, he tucked his pen and paper back into his desk, and left it for another day.

On the 1st of April, a chill ran through the city, leaving Kay and Fleur with little to do besides huddle together on the sofa. Wrapped in his suit jacket, she decided to prod further into his peculiar upbringing.

"What does a church boy do for fun? Do church boys even have fun?"

"Are we not having fun right now?"

"I mean what are your passions, your hobbies? You must do something besides school. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, after all."

Kay ruminated on the possible truth of her proverb. "Well, I played the violin for a time. I enjoy painting every now and then."

"As should be expected from such a quiet fella. Perhaps you can paint my portrait sometime." She smiled while making her best Cleopatra impression. "Ever learn to dance?"

"Only ballroom. But it's been years."

"What about the foxtrot? Oh, you must know the Charleston, at least," she piped.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite the entertainment you hoped for."

Fleur wiggled off of him and into her heels again before extending an arm. "Then let me show you. A suitable partner must know the basics!"

He stumbled to his feet as she yanked on his hand and locked an arm around his shoulder.

"That's it, now. Hand on my back, other in my hand like so. Follow my lead."

She guided his fingers along her curved torso and shimmied close, back arched. Kay stepped back as she moved forward, clumsily tiptoeing to and fro, careful not to stub her delicate toes.

"Rotate your ankles. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4, and loosen up!"

Kay obeyed as far as capable, and the two twisted and twirled and kicked from corner to corner. Fleur couldn't contain her laughter, drowning out the peppy beat that echoed through the thin walls of the tiny dressing room. So bubbly and carefree, he could hardly believe the same sumptuous creature who made her living on the passions of men stood before him. She gave a rare and cherished flash of the young girl within.

Utterly mesmerized, Kay paid little attention to his footwork. With one unfortunate step to the side, his heel caught against the edge of her costume chest and he toppled backward into a pillow of satin and lace. The two let out an ecstatic cry, and Fleur pitched forward with him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He savored the sensation of her soft cheek for the brief moment before they erupted into a fit of laughter.

"And you were just getting the hang of it!"

"Perhaps it's for the best."

The two studied each other as they laid in the trunk, tangled in silk scarfs and pantyhose. It took him back to the first night they met. He was close enough to feel her breath against his lips, to imagine the taste of her. Kay thought he might have enough courage to lean in, this time, but she pulled away with a teasing smirk.

"You know I'm awfully tired of this stuffy ol' room. Why don't we go out some place? It's been so long since I've been out dancing, I mean really dancing. Not these phony table gigs they call dancing. Whadya say?"

Kay swallowed, taking some time to fully process the request. "Out? With me?"

A female voice trilled Fleur's name from behind the door, dashing his hopes in an instant.

"Well, maybe another night."

Fleur slung a feathered boa around her shoulders and powdered her face before strutting to the door. Her instantaneous transition into character reminded him of how quickly time flew.

"Yes, yes, of course," he followed.

"It's settled then! I have the day off this Friday, I'll see you at 7," she said, helping him out of the mess of clothes before making his exit. "Not so fast, Mister. You're forgetting the last one."

Fleur plucked off a lace garter hitched to his bowtie as he reached for the door. His face turned redder than her dress as he stuttered to explain the mishap, but she took the time to slip him her number and a more deliberate kiss on the cheek.