Chloe by Lyn Cote Page B

being the maid to one could only be more interesting than a humdrum family.
    At the second agency, they carried out the same routine and were met with a similar response, except that this woman suggested Minnie apply at an agency near the theater district. She gave them its name and address and they set off at a brisk pace. Chloe felt more hopeful with each step. Another subway ride, and Chloe and Minnie entered another imposing brick building. Chloe paused outside the door of this agency and said a quick prayer for Minnie.
    Minnie whispered her own affirmation. “Come on, Jesus. I got to have a job soon.” She pushed open the door and Chloe and she entered. This agency looked a bit busier. All the chairs were filled and people milled around in front of the reception desk. While Chloe stood to the side Minnie approached the desk and asked to apply for a position.
    “You—” A man’s imperious voice suddenly cut across the crowded office, causing Minnie, Chloe, and several other people to turn. He gave Chloe an imperious motion. “You, the blonde, walk toward me. Please.” He snapped his fingers.
    Chloe nearly gave a tart reply, but then, curious, she looked the man in the face. There was something in his eyes that intrigued her. Or perhaps it was the slightly continental accent he had and his well-tailored brown suit. She walked toward him.
    “Turn,” he ordered, “and walk to the door again.”
    With a raised eyebrow, Chloe obeyed, feeling everyone in the room’s attention on her. But she was used to being on display and this man sounded like he had a reason. When she turned again, the man was beaming at her. He immediately strode over and handed her a gilt-edged card.
    “You’re just what I’m looking for.” He nodded as he took her hand, ignoring her surprised look. “A friend of mine is a couturier, just come over from Paris, and I’m helping her open a shop on Fifth Avenue. We need one blonde and one brunette model.”
    Chloe tried to say something but her mouth wouldn’t work. The man didn’t seem to notice. He turned to the secretary at the desk. “This is the girl I want. Get her information and then give her the address.” He looked at Chloe again and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then, at nine.” He bowed over her hand and walked out.
    Chloe stood there, still without a word to say.
    “Miss Chloe, this be so excitin’,” Minnie breathed into her ear. “You’re gone be a model on Fifth Avenue. That’s where all the swanky shops are.”
    “But, Minnie! I didn’t come here to get myself a job. I came to get
you
a job.”
    “Don’ you worry ’bout me. I’ll get my job, too. Now don’ you pass this up, Miss Chloe.”
    Chloe listened to the buzz of voices as everyone, heads together, whispered about her and her new job. Everyone stared at her.
Could I really do it?
    The secretary stood up. “Please come to the desk, miss. I need you to fill out a card and I’ll give you the address of the couturier.”
    Minnie gave Chloe a push. “Go on. We’ll both fill out cards this time.”
    Chloe couldn’t resist the I-dare-you look in Minnie’s eyes. It was the same look that had gotten them spanked more than once as children, and suddenly it was wonderful to see. With a grin, she marched up to the desk.

CHAPTER SIX
    T he noisy, boisterous chatter in the café bounced off the brick walls of the tiny basement it occupied. Kitty had met them when they returned from the final employment agency and had invited them to Greenwich Village for a very late lunch. The surrounding hubbub only intensified Chloe’s agitation. It reminded her of when she was a little girl and how she’d loved to watch the wide-hipped cook at Ivy Manor fry griddle cakes. The part that had intrigued her the most was when the woman had sprinkled water on the hot grease to test it; Chloe had loved watching the droplets of water dance on the pan. That was how Chloe felt now—like the water beads hopping,