Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco Book 1) by Cynthia Woolf Page B

and through the city, the coach stopped in front of a two-story wooden building, down by the wharf. Thank goodness it was daytime. She definitely wouldn’t want to be here at night.
    Otis opened the door and helped Nellie out of the carriage.
    “Are you sure you want to go in ma’am? It’s not a proper place for a lady, such as yourself.”
    “Yes, Otis. I must talk to Blake now. You wait here with the carriage, please.”
    He shook his head and sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
    Nellie walked through the double doors of the building…into another world. There was piano music playing, men of all walks of life…sailors and miners, bankers and grocers…sat at tables, drinking or playing cards or stood at a long bar against the back wall. Girls, of all descriptions, mostly young, but looking older than their years, mingled with the customers.
    As Nellie walked through, she felt every eye on her. Suddenly there was a woman, wearing a low cut yellow satin dress by her side. She looked to be about thirty, but on closer inspection, when Nellie looked through her makeup, she realized the girl was probably only about twenty. The petite blond walked beside her as Nellie worked her way to the back of the room.
    “What you doin’ in here, hun?” the girl asked. “This ain’t no place for your kind.”
    A drunken man in sailor’s garb grabbed Nellie’s arm as she walked by and tried to pull her onto his lap.
    “Where you going, girlie? Come on sit here.” He patted his lap and grinned a toothless smile at her.
    “Unhand me, sir,” said Nellie, as she shook off the man’s hand.
    “Come on, Joey, leave the lady be,” said the woman to the inebriated man.
    “Who you lookin’ for, honey? Maybe I can help?” The woman stayed close to Nellie and fended off several other attempts to stop her from reaching her destination of the bar and the bartender at the back of the room.
    “I’m here to see my husband. Mr. Blake Malone.”
    The woman stopped cold. “Good grief, ma’am,” she said. “Blake’s goin’ have a fit. Come with me.”
    The woman took Nellie sternly by the arm and led her to the stairs on the right side of the bar. Together they climbed them.
    “What’s your name?” asked Nellie.
    “I’m Sally Jo. Come with me Mrs. Malone before one of these men decides to get too handy.”
    Nellie realized that the music had stopped. Most eyes in the bar were on her as she climbed the stairs next to Sally Jo.
    “Nellie!”
    She heard Blake rather than saw him. Following the sound of his yell, she saw him come out of one of the doors off the second floor balcony.
    “Blake.” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice.
    He closed the distance and met her at the top of the stairs.
    “What in blazes do you think you’re doing?” His voice carried even over the music which had started up again.
    “I had to see you. I had a visit from an attorney today.”
    “And this is something that couldn’t wait until I got home this evening?”
    “Well,” she hedged. “Now that I’m here and have had time to think about it, I probably could have waited, but I was upset and needed to talk to you immediately when I started out.”
    “Sally Jo, thank you for bringing her to me,” Blake said to the young woman.
    “Sure thing, boss.” She let go of Nellie’s arm and sashayed back down the stairs into the commotion of the room below.
    “Come with me,” Blake took her by the arm and marched her into his office.
    “Blake, you’re hurting me.” She attempted to pull her arm out of his grasp.
    He immediately eased his grasp, but didn’t release her until they were in the office and the door was closed.
    Nellie looked at Blake. He still hadn’t turned around from closing the door; instead, he braced himself against it, his head hanging.
    “You’re angry aren’t you?” She said, stating the obvious and hoping he’d calm down.
    Finally, he turned from the door. His mouth was in a thin line and a muscle in his jaw