Page 6 of The Gilded Heiress

Leo

I wedged a toe in the door to prevent it from slamming in my face. “Listen, Roy. You have to do this for me. You owe me.” Roy was the doorman at the Park Theatre, a playhouse on Washington Street. He and I went back a long time.

Except Roy wasn’t being helpful at the moment. I was determined, though, so I pushed my way inside the tiny corridor. “Come

on. Let me meet Mr. Abbey. Five minutes is all I need.”

“I told you, he ain’t here. Now get lost before you get me into trouble.”

“Then what about Mr. Frohman or Mr. Harris?”

After my meeting with Josie, I spent quite a lot of time researching Boston theater owners. Then I remembered my connection

to Roy and decided to concentrate my efforts here. This had to work.

Roy scowled at me. “You’re gonna get me fired. I need this job.”

I put up my hands. “I swear, I won’t cause trouble. Just point me in the direction of someone’s office and I’ll take care

of the rest.”

“No one’s here,” Roy said. “You’re wasting your time.”

A door down the hall opened and a gorgeous woman appeared. Brown hair fell in waves around her head, a robe covering her slight

frame. She wore a deep frown as she examined me from head to toe. “What’s the commotion out here?”

Recognition hit me and my jaw dropped open. “You’re Lotta Crabtree.”

Charlotte “Lotta” Crabtree was one of the most famous performers in the country. At least, she had been at one time. Her brother was a partner in this theater, but I hadn’t expected to see his famous sister here.

The edge of Lotta’s mouth kicked up. “Hello, handsome. Any reason you’re out here interrupting my nap?”

Sensing my opening, I pushed by Roy, removed my derby, and closed the distance between me and the petite woman. “I sincerely

beg your pardon, Miss Crabtree. Though I do have to say, you look perfectly refreshed to my eye.”

She pursed her lips and gave me another once-over. “A smooth talker. Why am I not surprised?”

First rule of being a confidence man: the confidence.

My mentor, St. Elmer, drummed ten important rules for a confidence man into my head as a boy. He wasn’t a real saint, of course,

but all the Back Bay kids idolized him then. Thanks to his tutelage, by the age of fifteen I knew how to pickpocket, how to

work a crowd. As I got older, he showed me how to use my looks to put people at ease, especially women.

St. Elmer always said I was his prize pupil.

“I’m honest to a fault,” I lied with a wink. “I suspect we’re alike in that manner, Miss Crabtree.”

“Not a far reach, but you’re right. I do tend to say what’s on my mind. And on my mind right now is that I’d like you to leave

so I can rest before the evening show.”

“May I have five minutes of your time? I have a proposition for you.”

“Honey,” she said with a laugh. “I’m a little tired of those sorts of propositions from men.”

“It’s not that, I swear.”

“Sure, but this is my nap time. Send your proposal to my agent and I’ll consider it.”

She started to turn away, but I knew I’d never have another chance like this. Her agent would toss my proposal in the garbage. I quickly blurted, “If I guess something about you, something not everyone knows, will you give me five minutes of your time?”

Lotta paused and threw me an exasperated glance over her shoulder. “You are pushy, aren’t you?”

“Ambitious,” I corrected. I suspected we had this in common and she’d appreciate the trait.

“All right, Mr....?”

“Hardy. Leo Hardy, ma’am.”

“Leo, then. Go on. Guess something about me.”

Though it had been many years since I used my cold reading skills—too many widows and grieving parents for my liking—I remembered

the basics. Any confidence man worth his salt could read a mark’s cues and make broad enough statements to apply to most anyone.

I pretended to study her as I sifted through what I knew of the famous actress. “Though you are disciplined and controlled

in your career, you are quite insecure inside.”

“Aren’t we all?” she muttered. “You’ll have to do better than that, honey.”

I kept going like she hadn’t interrupted. “Your father wasn’t as supportive of your choices as you’d hoped, and you’ve been

attempting to prove your talent to him your entire life.”

Lotta’s mother had managed the actress’s entire career, so my guess about Lotta’s father wasn’t a difficult one to make. And

most people in this world had one parent, deceased or living, they were still trying to impress. God knew I did.

The air in the corridor grew thick as I awaited her response. She blinked several times, and I could feel sweat building between

my shoulder blades. But I never let my worry show, not once.

Finally, she spoke. “I like you. Come inside and sit for a spell. Tell me what you’re doing in my theater.”

Roy sighed heavily, but I ignored him and trailed Lotta into the dressing room. I expected costumes and cosmetics, but this

was more like an office, with a desk, divan, and metal cabinets.

She reclined on the divan and gestured to an armchair. “Have a seat, Leo.”

“Thank you, Miss Crabtree.”

“Call me Lotta. Would you like a drink?”

There was a sideboard, so I took the hint and went over to make her a drink. “Allow me. What would you prefer?”

“Bourbon and water. Light on the water.”

“A woman after my own heart,” I murmured and poured two.

When we were settled with our drinks, she asked, “So tell me what you were arguing with poor Roy about.”

“I have a singer that I manage—”

Lotta rolled her eyes. “Goodness, I should’ve known. Let me guess, your sweetheart?”

“No, nothing like that. I mean, it is a woman, but we’re not involved. It’s all strictly aboveboard.”

“Hmm.” She studied me, her eyes inscrutable. “Is she any good?”

“Not as talented as you, of course, but yes. She’s quite good.”

“Pretty?”

“Gorgeous,” I said without thinking.

She sipped her drink and watched me over the rim. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, so I hurried to explain. “Josie is...

unique. She’s honest and raw, a girl raised on the streets. But she’s tough. I heard her singing on the corner one day and

knew I had to help her.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt,” Lotta drawled.

I shrugged and added a small chuckle that I hoped came across as endearing. “She talked me down from twenty percent to fifteen.

But I think she’s worth it. The girl’s destined to be a star.” Not for singing, though. The world would soon know her as the lost Pendelton heiress.

Lotta sipped her drink. “Raised on the streets, you say?”

I nodded solemnly, latching onto Lotta’s interest in Josie’s humble background. “She was orphaned as a baby, then raised by the nuns at the Children’s Asylum until she grew too old. Now she performs on the street for money.”

“No family?”

“None. She lives with a friend.”

“And now she has you?”

“Yes, but I only have her best interests at heart.”

“Oh, honey.” The famous woman threw her head back and laughed, giving me a peek at her famous dimples. “No man ever has a

woman’s best interests at heart, especially when money is involved.”

“I swear—”

She held up her hand. “Save it. I want to meet her.”

“Really?” Triumph raced through me, making my heart thump.

“Yes. If nothing else, I have to warn her away from men like you.”

My excitement dimmed considerably. “Wait a moment. I thought you could give her career advice and some such. Tell us how to

break into the business.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” Lotta took another long sip of her drink. “Bring her here tomorrow afternoon and have her

sing. If I like her, then I’ll talk to her—alone—and give her some advice.”

Would Lotta try to talk Josie out of working with me? I couldn’t let that happen. I had to convince both of them that I was

a straight arrow.

I gave Lotta my most charming smile, the one I used to disarm a mark. “You don’t trust me.”

“You’re too handsome to trust. Pretty men know they can get away with whatever they want.”

“I can’t decide whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Both, probably.”

“Aw, now you’ve hurt my feelings.”

Shaking her head, she put down her drink and reached for a box on the table.

Surprisingly, she pulled out a cigar and cut it.

Then she lit the cut end and puffed a few times, filling the room with fragrant smoke.

“I’ve performed across the country and I’ve met all kinds.

You might be able to roll over some people with that face, but not me.

Still, I’d like to help her if she’s really as good as you say. ”

“You won’t be disappointed.”

“I hope not, but the chance that you’ve discovered a star out on the streets of Boston is slim. Lucky for you I’m restless.

If nothing else, you’ve given me something to look forward to.”

A knock on the door sounded. “Yeah?” Lotta called.

A well-dressed man appeared, his age not much older than mine. I saw the way his eyes found Lotta first, expression softening,

then he saw me sitting in the chair and sobered. “Oh,” he said. “I will return later.”

“No need, darling. Leo was just leaving.”

That was my cue. Downing the rest of my drink, I set the glass on the table. Then I stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for

the drink, Miss Crabtree. I look forward to surprising you tomorrow afternoon.”

“It’ll be a first, handsome.”

I passed by the man in the doorway and closed the door. Jamming my derby on my head, I started for the exit. I practically

whistled as I went, flush with my success. Roy was seated at the back door, and he scowled when I approached.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, don’t frown at me, Roy. It all went fine.”

He shrugged off my hand. “You’re going to get me sacked, Hardy. You can’t come back here.”

“Too bad. Miss Crabtree has invited me back tomorrow.”

“Oh, Christ. What for? She’s already got a man.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of Lotta’s dressing room.

“I’m bringing a singer. Lotta said she’d give the girl a shot, see if she’s got any talent.”

“And what, you give up confidence schemes? I don’t believe it.”