The Winter of Her Discontent by Kathryn Miller Haines Page B

another cab, but after six hours of movement my knee was so numb I could’ve hopscotched home. We caught the subway and exited at Christopher Street.
    â€œOdd, isn’t it?”
    â€œWhat?” Jayne asked.
    â€œTwo accidents in two days? Yesterday when I fell I thought it was a fluke, but now I’m not so sure.”
    â€œDancers fall all the time, Rosie.”
    What she meant was dancers like Luke and me, two people who clearly had no business being anywhere near a leotard. No, she wasn’t thinking that. I was. I pushed it out of my mind. “When I fell yesterday I could’ve sworn I smelled butter, and today I noticed a particularly slick looking patch of ground near where Luke stumbled.”
    â€œSo you think someone was trying to sabotage you?”
    â€œMe, specifically? No. I’m good enough at doing that on my own. I do think, though, that someone was trying to create another problem for Maureen by making conditions unsafe for her dancers.”
    â€œIt could be a coincidence,” said Jayne. “Someone might’ve spilled something, and Maureen didn’t realize it so it never got cleaned up.”
    â€œPerhaps.” I was in a bad mood, and it was possible I was looking for problems.
    â€œI’ll mention the slick spots to Maureen tomorrow,” said Jayne.
    I was trying hard not to let my own misery seep her way, but she would’ve had to have been in an iron lung not to have felt a little of it. She’d had a good day, receiving some of the only praise Maureen would dole out for the year. It was natural that she’d be the person to tell Maureen about the floor. If I did it, I would get dismissed for trying to blame my lack of grace on invisible forces. But for some reason I read in Jayne’s plan an arrogance that couldn’t possibly exist.
    â€œIt’ll get better, Rosie,” she told me. It was a sweet lie, but it was still a lie.
    â€œIs it better to quit or be fired?”
    â€œThey won’t fire you.”
    â€œIf I quit, I can still retain my dignity.”
    â€œWhat about Al?” It was cruel of her to use my own motives against me. Jayne was clever like that.
    â€œIf he’s guilty, he’s guilty. My suffering through another month of this isn’t going to help anyone.”
    â€œYou’re not a quitter.”
    â€œI’m not a dancer either.” I also wasn’t someone who let insecurity eat away at me. At least not when it came to my career. I wasn’t enjoying this new, whiny version of myself. Where was the girl who wowed the audience on the opening night of In the Dark ? “Let’s set this aside for a minute.” I kept my voice low and told her about Walter and Vinnie’s conversation. Not that it counted for much. All it proved was what we’d already suspected: Vinnie was backing the show in return for some favor that likely involved the theater being used as a mob drop point.
    â€œFor what?” asked Jayne.
    â€œAll I know is Vinnie doesn’t want anyone around when his business is going down. And whatever that business is, he has to bring in a cleanup crew when he’s done.” We both shivered. It wasn’t hard to imagine the basement of the Bernhardt being used as a holding spot for stiffs before they made their final journey into the Hudson.
    Stiffs like Johnny Levane, the back alley body I’d read about in The Times.
    â€œLet’s not worry about the specifics of what they’re doing right now,” I said. “What this means is Friday managed to get himself into such a pickle that the only way he could get a show backed was to make a deal like this.”
    â€œOr he was forced to make a deal like this because of something he did.”
    â€œIsn’t that what I just said?”
    We rounded the corner to the Shaw House and paused in front of the building. “No,” said Jayne. “Your way makes it sound like he was