It'd been two long weeks, punctuated by nightly whiskey binges and constant smoke breaks, but there was still no word from Delilah. Rick sat behind his desk, reading the letter she'd left behind.
My dearest Rick, it began.
"My dearest Rick? Is that how you address a letter to some poor sap you used up and then left behind?" he asked aloud.
"No," said a voice from the door. "It's how you address a love letter. It's how you tell a big, dumb man that you're falling for him."
Delilah stood there in the doorframe looping her fingers around the golden curls of hair like spun gold, the brim of her hat obscuring her left eye. Rick put the letter in the top drawer of his desk and ran up to her, grabbing her arms with his hands, unwilling to let her go this time.
"I'm falling for you, Rick. I'm falling hard."
Rick shook her violently. "Where do you get off, lady? Where do you get off, coming into my office after all you've done to me and telling me that you're in love. You've got a lot of nerve."
"I've got a lot of other things, too, Rick," she said, seducing him with her eyes.
"Well, it won't work this time. I'm not falling for your dirty tricks any more, Delilah. Just tell me who you really are, not what you think I wanna hear."
"I'm just a girl, Rick. I'm just a girl who got swept up in things over her head. I could've kept running. I could've just used you, just like you said, but I came back for you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"All that means to me is that you've got another scheme up your sleeve. What is it this time? You after more money? Jewels? What's the racket this time?"
"Nothing, Rick, I swear," she sighed. "I should've known you wouldn't understand. I shouldn't have come back here."
"Yeah, you're right. You shouldn't have," said Rick with a firm look in his eye. He let go, dropping his hands into his pockets.
She slapped him hard across the face, and he took it like a man.
"Fine. Go back to your whiskey, Rick. I can tell you miss it. But tell me, does it ever miss you?" She straightened her blouse and then, with a sharp look, walked back out the door without another word.
Rick rubbed his cheek, still stinging red from the palm of her hand. "That dame's out of her gourd," he said to himself. "Gloria!"
The petite brunette appeared at the door, bobbing her hair.
"Yes, Rick?"
"Make a fresh pot of coffee, would you?"
She smirked, trying hard to hide her disappointment. "Right away, sir."
Rick went back to his desk, still rubbing his cheek. He sat still for a few minutes, deep in thought. He pulled the letter back out and started reading it over and over again. Something still felt off. Maybe it was the look in her eyes or the way she was pulling the curls of her hair, but he began to think she wasn't back for more.
"What if she was telling the truth?" he asked himself. "And I sent her back out there, back out on the streets with Mr. Big's goons running all over the place. She'll never last."
Gloria came back in the office with a fresh mug of coffee, which she sat gently on the desk in front of him. Then she looked at him with a pleasant smile on her face. But Rick jumped up from his chair and grabbed his coat and hat.
"No time for that now, Gloria. I've got to go catch that girl before she winds up dead."
Gloria frowned at him.
"You don't look so great, Gloria. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and go look after yourself?" he suggested and then took off out the door, leaving his perky secretary to grumble.
"Damn it, Rick. You're going to wind up dead yourself one of these days, and it's all going to be because of some little blonde minx," she said to an empty desk. She sighed and cursed her feminine weakness before gathering up her purse and locking the office on her way out.
Charlie closed the book and placed it back in the empty slot in the bookcase. It was the only other piece of furniture in the entire office, and it was filled completely with old, cheap detective novels by a writer named Johnny Lightly. She shook her head.
"Wow, Tommy, how can you read this crap?"
My dearest Rick, it began.
"My dearest Rick? Is that how you address a letter to some poor sap you used up and then left behind?" he asked aloud.
"No," said a voice from the door. "It's how you address a love letter. It's how you tell a big, dumb man that you're falling for him."
Delilah stood there in the doorframe looping her fingers around the golden curls of hair like spun gold, the brim of her hat obscuring her left eye. Rick put the letter in the top drawer of his desk and ran up to her, grabbing her arms with his hands, unwilling to let her go this time.
"I'm falling for you, Rick. I'm falling hard."
Rick shook her violently. "Where do you get off, lady? Where do you get off, coming into my office after all you've done to me and telling me that you're in love. You've got a lot of nerve."
"I've got a lot of other things, too, Rick," she said, seducing him with her eyes.
"Well, it won't work this time. I'm not falling for your dirty tricks any more, Delilah. Just tell me who you really are, not what you think I wanna hear."
"I'm just a girl, Rick. I'm just a girl who got swept up in things over her head. I could've kept running. I could've just used you, just like you said, but I came back for you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"All that means to me is that you've got another scheme up your sleeve. What is it this time? You after more money? Jewels? What's the racket this time?"
"Nothing, Rick, I swear," she sighed. "I should've known you wouldn't understand. I shouldn't have come back here."
"Yeah, you're right. You shouldn't have," said Rick with a firm look in his eye. He let go, dropping his hands into his pockets.
She slapped him hard across the face, and he took it like a man.
"Fine. Go back to your whiskey, Rick. I can tell you miss it. But tell me, does it ever miss you?" She straightened her blouse and then, with a sharp look, walked back out the door without another word.
Rick rubbed his cheek, still stinging red from the palm of her hand. "That dame's out of her gourd," he said to himself. "Gloria!"
The petite brunette appeared at the door, bobbing her hair.
"Yes, Rick?"
"Make a fresh pot of coffee, would you?"
She smirked, trying hard to hide her disappointment. "Right away, sir."
Rick went back to his desk, still rubbing his cheek. He sat still for a few minutes, deep in thought. He pulled the letter back out and started reading it over and over again. Something still felt off. Maybe it was the look in her eyes or the way she was pulling the curls of her hair, but he began to think she wasn't back for more.
"What if she was telling the truth?" he asked himself. "And I sent her back out there, back out on the streets with Mr. Big's goons running all over the place. She'll never last."
Gloria came back in the office with a fresh mug of coffee, which she sat gently on the desk in front of him. Then she looked at him with a pleasant smile on her face. But Rick jumped up from his chair and grabbed his coat and hat.
"No time for that now, Gloria. I've got to go catch that girl before she winds up dead."
Gloria frowned at him.
"You don't look so great, Gloria. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and go look after yourself?" he suggested and then took off out the door, leaving his perky secretary to grumble.
"Damn it, Rick. You're going to wind up dead yourself one of these days, and it's all going to be because of some little blonde minx," she said to an empty desk. She sighed and cursed her feminine weakness before gathering up her purse and locking the office on her way out.
***
Charlie closed the book and placed it back in the empty slot in the bookcase. It was the only other piece of furniture in the entire office, and it was filled completely with old, cheap detective novels by a writer named Johnny Lightly. She shook her head.
"Wow, Tommy, how can you read this crap?"
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