Chapter 3
At first sight, New York scared Joy a little. It wasn't the same as the last time she had been there. Then everything had been arranged for her.
After a few minutes, Joy hesitantly hailed a cab. He was an older man and inclined to be friendly. When she asked him about hotels, he said, "You new in town? You might try the Y. Rooms are cheap there."
Joy tipped him a dollar when they reached the Y. Ten minutes later, in a room, she felt better. The room wasn't much but it was clean and not too expensive. After unpacking her things, she settled down with the paper she had bought at the bus depot and scanned the ads. There were a lot of jobs listed, only most of them asked for references and experience. She decided on the employment agencies. There was a full column of those.
Writing down the addresses, she laughed, it felt good to be independent and on her own. Her enthusiasm died, though, in the week that followed. Even the agencies wanted some references. Joy wished she had stopped to think, gone to Mr. Bailey at the Feed Mill for references instead of just leaving without notice.
She thought of writing him but then decided against it. After all, leaving without notice was hardly a reason for Mr. Bailey to give her any glowing references.
By the end of the second week, Joy was completely disillusioned with New York. It didn't seem possible that a city the size of New York could have more unemployed typists and secretaries than jobs.
Wandering along, aimlessly window shopping, Joy was wondering if she should make one more call about a job or call it a day.
Someone touched her arm. "Joy Lansing, well I'll be," a voice said.
Joy whirled. Then, she laughed. "Vicky Neale," she gasped. "Where on earth did you drop from?" Vicky had moved from Havenhurst right after graduation from high school.
"I could say the same thing" Vicky hugged her. "Imagine running into you in New York, of all places," she exclaimed. "The chances are one in a million. How are you?"
"Just fine," Joy said, trying to make it sound convincing. She noticed the way Vicky was dressed.
Her old schoolmate was wearing an expensive coat. The sleeves and collar were mink. It made Joy feel shabby in her cloth coat.
At school, Vicky had always been popular and attractive, but now she was stunning. Joy hadn't known Vicky too well at school, but just seeing a friendly face was enough. Suddenly, she realized she was a little homesick.
"You in New York for a visit?" Vicky wanted to know.
Joy forced a smile. "No I'm living here. Fact is, I'm looking for a job. Know anyone who needs a secretary? It seems every one needs references and experience here."
"That's New York," Vicky said airily. "Look, suppose we go to my place for a drink. I'm free this afternoon. I'm dying to hear the latest from Havenhurst."
"I thought you moved to New Jersey when you left Havenhurst," Joy said.
The folks still live there. I live here. I work to New York. Come on, there's a cab." Vicky stepped to the curb and motioned to the cab cruising by.
Joy didn't protest as the cab slid in to the curb and they got in. She felt conscious of her drab appearance next to Vicky's elegance As the cab pulled back into traffic, Vicky offered a cigarette from a silver case and then held a lighter.
"Now, tell me all the dirt from Havenhurst. Any of the kids I knew get married?" Vicky asked.
"A few. Sally Heffly married Ben Williams. If I remember, you used to chum around with her."
"That figured. They went with each other long enough. How about you, Joy? Any big romances? You married yet?"
Joy shook her head. "I was working at Bailey's Feed Mill until I decided to come to New York and try my luck."
"No boy friend?" Vicky's eyebrows lifted slightly. "I always thought you'd be one of the first. The boys in Havenhurst must be blind."
Joy blushed at the compliment. To cover her feeling of embarrassment, she changed the subject. "What about you Vicky?"
"I'm not married, if that's what you mean," Vicky said. "I'm having too much fun to be saddled with a husband."
"What do you do? What kind of a job?" Joy wanted to know.
"Modeling work. I'm a photographer's model. Not bad. The work is easy, and the pay is good." Vicky paused. "It's just a job. Now what about the old home town. I'm dying to hear about Havenhurst."
"It hasn't changed much," Joy laughed. She chattered away about home, about girls and fellows they had known in high school. Suddenly, it was wonderful to talk to someone she knew.
Vicky listened attentively nodding from time to time, smiling, understanding with a warm intimacy as Joy told her troubles in not being able to find work.
At the same time, she studied Joy. Joy had grown up since she had seen her last. In high school, Joy had been rather shy and on the thin side. Vicky noticed how well she had filled out, especially her high-riding young breasts under the sweater she was wearing.
It was funny, running into Joy the way she had. Perhaps it was fate, she mused to herself. Another thought popped into her mind. Since her roommate, Lois DeFore, had left for the coast, she was alone. Maybe Joy - why not, she decided. Joy would make a wonderful new companion.
"I just had to get away from Havenhurst," Joy was saying.
Vicky smiled. "I'll bet it was a man. Was it?"
Joy started at the question, then recovered quickly. "No, I just felt I wanted a change. I wasn't getting anywhere working at the Feed Mill," she said.
Vicky noticed the color rise in Joy's cheeks.
It was a dead giveaway. She decided, though, not to press the point. Changing the subject, she said, "You'll find New York is quite a change from Havenhurst. Now that you're here, do you like it?"
Joy nodded. "Yes, I guess I do. Only it's so big. It scares me a little. Everything moves so fast. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry."
"That's natural. It is big, and we're small town girls. I guess I was just as scared when I first came. You get used to it."
"I'm not sure," Joy said ruefully.
"Where are you staying?" Vicky wanted to know.
"At the Y. A cabby recommended it to me when I first came. It's about the cheapest place, I guess. If I don't find a job soon though, even that won't be cheap enough."
Vicky made a face. "The Y? Sharing a bathroom with a half dozen others? Look, I've got an idea. How would you like to have an apartment that won't cost you half as much? Come and stay with me. The girl I had sharing my apartment left. She went out to the coast. I've got plenty of room."
"I couldn't, Vicky. I couldn't impose on you. I don't even have a job and right now, the prospects look hopeless."
"All the more reason. You don't want to go back to Havenhurst. When you do get a job you can share the expenses. Until then, why not? I insist. Well talk about it when we get to my place."
Vicky touched Joy's hand for a moment. Her eyes rested, momentarily on the pointed breasts beneath the tight sweater Joy was wearing. Perhaps it would take a little persuasion but she felt sure she could convince Joy that sharing her apartment was the best solution.
A few minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of an old Brownstone. Vicky paid the cabby and led the way inside.
Joy gasped as she stepped through the door Vicky keyed open. From the outside, the old Brownstone was so shabby and unpretentious, but the apartment was furnished expensively, with an eye to visual impact. It was beautiful. The floor was covered from wall to wall by a deep maroon rug. The heavy drapes over the windows were a lighter shade of the same rich color.
A television set was built into a wall of book cases. The furniture was early American, a maple-armed divan and matching chairs. Spinning wheel lamps on end tables at each end of the divan, added to the attractiveness.
"It's beautiful," Joy managed to say.
Vicky laughed. "I like comfort." She eyed Joy. "Better than the Y. Now will you come and stay with me?"
Joy looked at her. "Are you really serious, Vicky?" she asked.
"Of course. Since Lois left, I've been miserable. I hate living alone. I think it was fate that I ran into you today."
"I have a few hundred dollars. I guess I could stay for awhile. And if I find a job . . ."
"Never mind the money. After all, I still have to pay the rent, don't I? You're alone in New York. That's what friends are for. Believe me, I know. I was scared half to death when I first came." It was a lie, but Vicky made it sound convincing. When she first came to New York, she had lived with Trey Benton and she still shared a bed with him, occasionally, besides working for him. But the idea was to impress Joy Lansing.
Joy gave her a rueful look. Next to her room at the Y, the apartment was a palace. And she was alone in New York. "I guess I'd like to stay," she said.
"Swell. Now that that's decided, let's have a drink."
Joy nodded.
"Martini okay," Vicky asked as she opened a cabinet and a portable bar swung out.
"Whatever you're having,"' Joy conceded. She was still fascinated with the apartment.
Vicky poured Martinis into ice-filled glasses and handed Joy one. "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the joint," she said.
The other three rooms were as luxuriously furnished as the living room. The big bedroom was almost unbelievable. A huge circular bed with a white leather headboard centered the room. Everything was done in white, even the scatter rug on the floor and the drapes.
Joy was admiring it in silence when the phone rang.
Vicky picked it up, spoke rapidly for a moment, then replaced it in its white cradle. Turning to Joy, a frown clouded her face. "I have to go out, a modeling job. I should have let the damned phone ring. Be about an hour. Make yourself at home while I take a quick shower." She disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.
Joy sat on the edge of the bed, sipping her Martini. She still wasn't sure she believed her good fortune in running into Vicky Neale. And the apartment, so wonderful in comparison to the room at the Y.
Vicky came out of the bathroom. "Rush, rush," she laughed. "You're right about no one ever taking their time in New York."
Joy started and felt color rise in her cheeks. Vicky was naked except for a towel draped carelessly around her shoulders. Now, she was drying her breasts with the towel as though Joy wasn't even there.
A strange fascination caught at Joy. She didn't understand it. She remembered Vicky had always been attractive, but now she was beautiful. She continued to watch Vicky dry her long slender legs.
Vicky caught her look and smiled. "Guess I'll have to powder. The boss gets furious if I show up for work glowing pink from a bath." She went to the dressing table and picked up a huge puff.
Joy's eyes followed her. The embarrassment of the moment before, gradually eased. After all, they both were women.
"I wish I didn't have to take this job this afternoon," Vicky said over her shoulder. "I'd like to just talk and talk." She finished the powdering and walked across the room, in front of Joy, to a closet.
like this?" she asked Joy as she took out a blue knit suit and held it up.
"It's lovely," Joy said. Her eyes went beyond Vicky to the array of dresses and gowns hanging in the closet. Vicky does all right, she decided. The thought made Joy feel a little envious. Her own clothes were nothing in comparison.
Vicky tossed the suit on the bed and wait back to her dressing table. She took panties and bra from a drawer and then nylons. Turning, facing Joy, she eased the nylons up her sleek legs. Then, she slipped into the sheer panties.
"Would you?" she asked Joy, holding her bra in place, and turning her back so Joy could snap it. A smile Joy couldn't see cornered her mouth as she felt Joy's fingers tremble slightly.
"You can get a cab and get your things while I'm gone. I'll give you a key in case I'm not back in time," she said.
Reaching the street, they walked to a cab stand on the next corner.
"See you later," Vicky said, as she entered a cab. "If you get back before I do, maybe you can fix a salad for dinner. You'll find some things In the refrigerator."
Joy watched the cab disappear, then found one herself.
A half hour later, she was checked out of the Y and back at the apartment. After unpacking her bags, she undressed and took a quick shower. It felt wonderful.
After slipping into a negligee and robe, she went into the kitchen. Staring at the gleaming stove and neat little sink and adjoining counters, she couldn't help thinking of home. Back in Havenhurst, the sink seemed always filled with dirty dishes.
She was about to explore the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. She hesitated, wondering if she should answer it. Then, she remembered Vicky had given, her the key from her purse. It wasn't Vicky when she opened the door.
The man was tall and handsome. He regarded her with an amused grin and his eyes were taking in the open cleft of her negligee.
"Vicky home?" he asked.
Joy shook her head. At the same time, her fingers reached and closed her robe at the throat. "She's working. I'm not sure when she'll be home," she said. Before she could stop him, he moved past her into the apart-Bent. She felt helpless as he crossed the room to the portable bar and nonchalantly started fixing himself a drink.
Over his shoulder, he said, "Care to join me?"
Joy found her voice. "No, and I told you Vicky isn't home."
He turned, drink in hand, and grinned. "The name is Trey Benton. Vicky won't mind me having a drink."
Joy felt his eyes on her again, undressing her in an obtrusive stare. Anger caught at her insides. She wondered what his relationship with Vicky Neale was. He obviously was no stranger to the apartment, not the way he went to the bar and helped himself. Grudgingly, she had to admit he was handsome. Muscles bulged under the sport shirt he was wearing. For some crazy reason, Joy thought of Clay Trent.
Trey Benton had the same kind of disarming charm, the same kind of thick wavy hair but he was older, about thirty-four or five, Joy guessed. Despite her resentment, she felt a fascination, a magnetic force.
"You Vicky's latest?" he asked.
"What?"
The grin on his face broadened. "Lois DeFore moved out a week ago. Vicky go you sharing her apartment with her?" He paused and his eyes had that look again. "By the way, I suppose you do have a name."
His flippancy angered Joy. "The name is Joy Lansing and I'm sharing this apartment with Vicky Neale. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave," she said.
"No reason to get mad, Baby." He finished his drink and set the glass down. "I won't wait for Vicky. Just tell her there's a party at Brad Hanbury's tomorrow night. Tell her nine o'clock."
"I'll tell her."
He paused at the door. "If you'd like to come, you're invited too."
Joy opened her mouth, but the door was already closing behind him.