The Only Girl in the Game by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

Al an idea. He went over and stepped into the conversation and took the blonde by the hand.
    “I got to borrow this broad a couple minutes, Beaver.”
    “Hey, Al. Hey now!” Beaver said, alarmed. The girl giggled.
    “I got to get my back scrubbed, Beaver. This here is a good strong-looking blonde and. she can do a good job, can’t you, honey?”
    The girl giggled again and Beaver said, “What the hell, Al?”
    Al looked directly at him and said, “I’d hate to think you were being selfish about this, Beaver.”
    “Huh? Oh, hell no, Al. I mean, we were just talking. Go ahead, Al.”
    With a sudden muscular tug, Al hauled the girl up onto her feet. She glared down at Beaver. “The big hero!” she snarled. “The big shot!”
    “Just be a good kid and do a little favor for a pal,” Beaver wheedled.
    Al led her into the bedroom by the hand and closed the door. She yanked her hand away. “Lissen, I’m not scrubbing your back or anything else.”
    “What’s your name, darling?”
    “Gretchen Lane.”
    “How old are you, sweetheart?”
    “I’m … twenty-one.”
    “Stand right there a minute, sweetheart.” He went to the bureau and took a fifty-dollar bill from the top drawer. He went to the bathroom and came back with a bath brush. “Put your hand out, dear.” He put the bill on her hand and the brush on top of it. “One goes with the other, dear. Take your choice. It’s a good pay scale, don’t you think? I’ll leave you right here. If you don’t like the offer after you think it over, leave both items and take off. Fair enough? But don’t leave one and take the other, because then you might be in a hurry, and you might fall and break one of those pretty legs, sweetheart.”
    She gave him a skeptical look. “Just for scrubbing your back, Mr. Marta?”
    “That’s all, sweetheart.”
    He went into the bathroom and, as he started his shower, he left the glass door of the shower stall open. When he felt the first tentative touch on his back he smiled to himself. She did an efficient and vigorous job. When he sensed shewas about to stop he half turned, pretended to slip, grasped her arm, and pulled her under the roaring water. She leaped out, gasping and cursing, her hair pasted flat, her blouse and shorts drenched.
    He apologized profusely and with great sincerity, and gave her a big fresh towel for her hair, and went to the extra closet and selected a hostess coat in pale blue satin that he knew would fit her.
    “You’ll have to accept this as a gift, sweetheart.”
    “It’s beautiful!”
    “You shut yourself in there and get organized, darling. Throw your wet stuff out and I’ll have maid service take care of it.”
    He dressed quickly, then picked up the wet blouse and shorts from the floor outside the bathroom. He balled them up, walked into the next room, closing the door behind him, and hurled them against Beaver’s chest. They hit with a damp substantial sound and fell into his lap. Beaver stared stupidly down at them, and picked them up, holding them gingerly.
    “Where’s Gretch?” he asked.
    “That little broad is resting, Beaver. She got real tired.”
    “What the hell, Al?”
    “She thought you’d like those things as a keepsake. Sleep with them under your pillow, buddy. Sorry they got wet, but we got so eager we were in the shower before either of us remembered she should have taken them off. So I helped her get ’em off.”
    “But she’s a nice girl,” Beaver said in such a heartbroken way that Gidge gave a high hard yelp of laughter.
    “Oh, and I nearly forgot,” Al said sternly. “Get the hell out of here. That’s one thing she asked me to do, like a favor. She doesn’t want to see you when she comes out.”
    “Me? Get out?”
    “Need Bobby’s help?”
    “Hell no,” Beaver mumbled. “I’m leaving.”
    Al had just started to explain what he’d done when the girl came out. “My hair is pretty messy but I guess it.… Where’d Beaver go?”
    Al had to