Daisy Tucker and Mr. NYC novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Fifty-Eight Thousand

There were nine photographers on the sidewalk outside the service door on Saturday morning.

I took in the crowd, my nerves tightening.

Nine cameras, two microphones, and a man in a very good coat holding a cup of coffee for no one.

I had worked the whole night.

My hair was in a braid that had given up at three a.m., and I smelled like lemon and floor wax.

"Mrs. Hargrove!" someone shouted. "Mrs. Hargrove, is it true you were arrested?"

"Fined," I said. "Three hundred dollars."

"Did you marry for money?"

"I've got two hundred and twelve dollars and an almost-broken mop. You tell me."

A few of them laughed.

"Is it true you hit a man?"

"Yes."

"With what?"

"My hand. Anybody got a better question?"

A woman at the back lifted her microphone.

"Is there a story behind the ring?"

"There's a good one," I said. "It belonged to Amos Hargrove's wife. Ask him about her sometime, and bring a chair."

I walked straight through them, with the cart left behind in the lobby, and I did not look back.

My hands were shaking when I reached the corner.

A newsstand sat on the curb with the morning paper in a metal rack.

I stopped.

The front page had a photograph of me from the all-hands, in my smock, with the mop.

Under it, in letters an inch tall, "HARGROVE HEIR'S COWGIRL BRIDE: ARRESTS, DEBTS, AND A DYING MAN'S RING."

Below that, in smaller print, was a line that made my stomach go cold.

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