Seduction of Moxie by Colette Moody Page B

do that, anyway?”
    “With my nose to the grindstone, that’s how. I campaigned for weeks on your behalf with the management there. They didn’t tell you?”
    “Must have slipped their minds,” Moxie said in a monotone. The more Cotton talked, the more she wished he’d stop, and the less she tended to believe him.
    “Look, I’ve got Brown’s word that he’ll be by the Luna to see one of your sets next Saturday. He’s going to be out of town this coming weekend. That’s the only reason this is taking so long.”
    “Okay, Cotton. I’ll be ready for him.” She was starting to wonder if getting the manager of the Kasbah to come by and see her perform would ever happen, and she was quickly tiring of this conversation with her self-congratulatory agent. Cotton represented a number of people now, and he had more clients to consider than just her. But lately, even though he seemed to be putting less effort into her career, he still managed to take credit for anything good that came her way.
    “Make sure you wear a fancy dress that knocks him on his ass.”
    “How fancy?”
    “As high class as you can stand, sister. You’ve got to really get all dolled up, you know? You need to look upscale if you want an upscale gig.”
    Now she was officially irritated. “I don’t look upscale?”
    “You look like a singer in a gin joint. You need to seem like you just dropped in from a swanky dinner party at a Manhattan penthouse, like you shit diamonds.”
    “And will you be fronting me the jack for said diamond-shitting dress?”
    He looked put out. “What, you can’t borrow one from someone? There must be fifty dames living here with you.”
    She sighed. “Sure, Ebenezer. I’ll just ask the countess on the third floor if I can borrow her tiara while I’m at it.”
    Mrs. Bennington approached her, making a disgustingly vile sound as she snorted something from her sinuses into her mouth. Moxie tried to ignore it.
    “You got another letter,” she rasped, tossing the envelope into Moxie’s lap where she sat on the divan.
    “Thanks,” she murmured, though the woman had already turned to leave.
    Cotton’s brow furrowed. “Who is that from?”
    She smiled as she regarding the writing on the outside. “A friend of mine out West.”
    “Since when do you have friends out West?”
    “Why do you want to know? So you can figure out what I can borrow from her? Want me to see if she has some upscale shoes?”
    He rolled his eyes. “You know, I don’t get any kind of gratitude from you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be mopping up urine in a clip joint in the middle of nowhere.” He expelled cigar smoke dramatically.
    Moxie was no longer interested in this conversation. She had a letter to read, after all. She decided to just skip to the end of this all-too-familiar conversation in order to speed things along. “Yes, Cotton. You are wonderful yet I mistreat you. I am a selfish bitch, and you ejaculate rainbows. I get it.”
    He stared at her. “Ejaculate rainbows?”
    “Or something like that, yes. I’ll find something to wear before next Saturday.” She stood and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for stopping by.” She scurried up the staircase, leaving him alone in the parlor looking completely bewildered.
    Once she was contained within the relative safety of her apartment, she opened the letter.
     
    Miss Genitalia (Genny) Finkelstein,
     
I received your letter tonight and I was touched and delighted by both the gesture, as well as the sentiment within. I’ve been holding my breath since I mailed that last letter to you, wondering if I would hear back. And while things have obviously progressed here—the shooting is more than half completed now—with regard to you, time has stood still for me.
So let me catch you up on the last couple of weeks here in Hollywood. The accommodations that the studio arranged for me are a perfect match—private bungalows nestled amidst nature and lunatics, which happen to be