Butterflies in Heat by Darwin Porter Read Free Book Online Page A

you really interested in me?"
    "Yes, I am. I think you're one of the most fascinating women I've ever seen."
    His words set her off, her head spinning—almost in reverie. He was right. She was fascinating! She chose a role, and became that role. She showed the women of America what they could do with themselves creatively. To do that, she had to don many costumes. Her clothes were in demand—by everybody. She was now fully caught up, remembering, barely aware of Numie. Whatever she had felt, she became. Why, once she dressed up like a man and walked down Fifth Avenue. Of course, she created a scandal. She had created scandals all her life. But she wasn't rejected. She was in her power then. Women all over America adopted her styles. Never had she followed other styles or conventions. She had set them. Leaning forward, she looked full face at Numie—blinking her wild, almond eyes. "If I am fascinating, as you say I am, it's because I went out in the world to make my wildest dreams come true. Whatever I wanted, I reached out and tried to capture. Many times I came up empty-handed, but I never stopped reaching." She crushed out her cigarette, shifted her position, and reached for a bamboo fan.
    He blended his fingers together, then cracked his knuckles.
    "An irritating habit you have."
    "Forgive me," he said.
    She emerged from the darkness just enough for the light to capture the outline of her face. Her violet lipstick glowed in the shadows. "Am I grotesque to you?"
    "Not at all."
    "You're lying—that's good. Never tell the truth to anyone—just to yourself. Of course, you consider me a freak, unfairly, but I know what you're thinking. You're not bright enough to distinguish me from that show at Commodore Philip's bar."
    "I don't think I understand."
    "That awful drag creature who calls herself Lola La Mour, a cheap imitation of my own name. You obviously have had more experience around garbage than around ladies."
    Too bad you feel that way." He couldn't comprehend this sudden attack. "If I've not behaved right, I'm sorry."
    "And well you should be." She didn't know why she was attacking him. An impulse. Perhaps she was afraid of him as she was afraid of all strangers. "I must warn you" I'm not rushing into any relationship with you, chauffeur or whatever. We'll meet again in a few days ... perhaps. By then, your manners may have improved. Good day." Her disappearance from the study left a lingering trail of intoxicating perfume.
    He paused. Then he picked up one of her blue marijuana cigarettes and put it in his pocket.
    The sounds of a typewriter led him to a downstairs office, off the parlor. Behind a desk, Anne was answering a letter.
    "I'm afraid I struck out with the boss lady," he said, standing at the doorway.
    She looked up. "That's very predictable. She likes to test people. See how much abuse they can take. If she attacks without provocation, and sees that you don't fight back, then she knows you're material for her stable."
    "Thanks for the warning, but I could have used it before facing the firing squad."
    Over Anne's desk was a billboard advertising, Leonora de la Mer presents THE TASTE OF STEAK TARTARE, a three-act play by Ralph Douglas."
    "Is that the Ralph we know?" Numie asked.
    "One and the same."
    "I didn't know he was a playwright."
    "He's not. The play was never produced.
    "Was there a play at all?"
    "Yes, Leonora was going to produce it, or so she said, When you're fishing, you've got to used bait. We accepted her invitation to come to Sacre-Coeur so Ralph could revise it. Nothing he ever wrote seemed quite right to her. The rewrites stretched on and on. Just as Ralph was about to explode, Leonora would praise him and tantalize him with her backing. I kept urging him to leave Tortuga and go back to New York. But he wouldn't. One morning we didn't hear the typewriter any more." She sighed. "I type letters on it now."
    "You could have gone back alone."
    "With no money? I can just imagine