The unease that this James would somehow expose her, maliciously or accidently, made Susanna's heart race the next few times she played at Marcie's. Her worried eyes were quick to scan the crowd for him, and somehow, he was usually there – but he never gave an outward sign that she was anything other than the boy she pretended. It was irritating that his presence seemed to make her fumble on the piano.

"Take five!" Ronnie said one night, between sets. Archie was wiping his brow from the hot lights around them, and Susanna slipped away to find some water. To her surprise, just beyond the stage James was standing there, with a bottle of soda water and watching her with a smile. He hadn't approached her since that first night, and so she had almost begun to believe he wouldn't do so again. Evidently not.

"Hey there," he told her. "Thirsty?"

"Golly, yes," Susanna said, taking it from him and conveniently forgetting the risk of his knowing her identity. "Thank you." She retreated into the cooler hallway behind the stage, unsurprised that he followed her. Her heart fluttered a little, which was surprising, and she hoped in the dim light would hide her blush.

"I brought my friend Steve tonight," James said, his tone casual. "I told him Marcie's has the best music in Brooklyn."

"That's mighty kind of you."

"Well, it's true. And the company's good, too – I set him up with a redhead at the bar."

Susanna gave him a glance, sipping at the water. "And what about you? Why don't you dance?" That she had noticed his not dancing went unremarked upon.

"Can't dance with the pianist while she – er, he – is playing with the band," James said with a laugh. "Anyway, we'd look strange, you and I." His expression stilled, and his blue eyes sparkled in the dim light. The chatter from the crowd sounds very far away, and Susanna swallowed. "Can I take you out sometime?" he asked suddenly. "As a girl, I mean."

"I'm not allowed to go with strangers."

"Then let's not be strangers. What's Suze short for?"

She tried to keep from smiling, but his own smile was too darned infectious.

"Susan? Suzanne?" he guessed.

She shook her head, her fingers tight on the bottle. "Only Arch calls me Suze," she said, unhelpfully.

James's eyes narrowed slightly, but the smile lingered. It gave him a teasing, mischievous quality. "I'll figure it out," he said, his smile twisting into a smirk that made her feel queer. "Then will you go out with me?"

"I think you didn't understand what I said. I'm not allowed to go with strangers. My parents have to approve of every boy that takes me out."

"I see." His head nodded gravely. "Can I meet your parents sometime, then?"

Susanna gave a hollow laugh. "For approval, do you mean? Ha! I've only gone out once, and for prom. Why risk getting thrown out of my house by the skin of your pants just so I can turn you down?"

James laughed too, only louder, and where hers had been humorless his was rich and seemed to brighten the corridor with the simple sound. "There's no fun without risk," he chuckled at last. "And anyway, I'm perfectly likeable. Your parents will adore me."

"I doubt that."

"Then let's make it interesting. If I get your parents' permission, I take you out. If not…you never have to see my face again. If you don't want to, of course."

Susanna thought for a moment, and then nodded. "I'm going to win," she warned him, and despite herself, she smiled.

"Sure, you go on thinking that," James teased, and flicked the rim of her cap. "I look forward to our date."

"I look forward to seeing the look on your face when my father tosses you through the hedge."

He laughed again. "Are you trying to frighten me away, sweetheart? I've got more moxie than that!"

"Sure you do." Susanna was about to add on a little more sassing, but the crackling call to return the band members to the stage could be heard from the club, so she passed James the empty bottle with a smirk.

"I'll see you 'round, Suze," he called after her. She merely waved back, and returned to the piano, where her feelings were a little less convoluted and a little more predictable. She tried to ignore Archie's glare.

However she tried, Susanna could not shake those blue eyes from her mind that night. She played worse than usual, was distracted as she walked home with Archie, and when she was finally in her nightgown, the scents of smoke and sharp perfume washed from her skin and tuckered down in her frilly bed, she could not sleep despite that it was early morning. In the silent house, it was too easy to hear James's laughter in her mind.

She punched her pillow and rolled over with a sigh. There was no use mooning over him. Handsome he may be, and charming – and completely inaccessible. He was not the type of fellow she could date. Her parents would pick up on it at once, even if he did manage to find her somehow.

If he could have been a little less handsome, or a little less charming, it might have been easier to anticipate the inevitable disappointment.


Several nights later, her disquiet still lingering, Susanna was laying on her bed and flipping through an old magazine, bored out of her mind. It was a Saturday night, and her parents stayed awake later than usual on Saturdays. She could never sneak away on Saturdays. It was the longest night of her life.

Idly she listened to the chugging of a car down the otherwise quiet street, and the sound of the television in the living room below where her parents were watching. If only they would go to bed early….and she could change her clothes and climb out the window –

The chugging of the car stopped. A door slammed. The neighbors must have visitors, she thought idly. She turned a page.

The doorbell chimed, and Susanna blinked in surprise, her eyes drifting away from the magazine. Her parents never had late visitors. Who could it be? She swung her legs over her bed and rushed to the window overlooking to the street. She didn't recognize the car in the darkness, and she pressed her nose to the glass to see below, where light was spilling from the foyer and into the street, around a tall figure with dark hair –

He had found her!

Her heart racing, Susanna dropped the magazine and rushed over to yank and the door, sticking her head out the landing to strain to hear. Even if James was going to get tossed out, she wanted to hear his voice one last time –

"Come in, come in!" Mother's voice was light and welcoming, and Susanna's mouth fell open. Tiptoeing very carefully, she pressed her back to the opposite wall, peering down the stairs to the sitting room. She could see the top of her father's head, sitting in his usual chair, and James as he sat down on the couch beside her mother.

She couldn't believe it.

"I just couldn't believe it," James was saying, his charming smile in full effect. "When I recognized you at the church social last Saturday."

What the – how did he know?

"My buddy Steve and I played for the Bulldogs for five or six years. Your Warriors kicked our trash every time we played against each other! I wasn't expecting to see you again after all these years, sir."

Father's laugh boomed in the room, and Susanna continued to stare. James knew about her father coaching baseball? He knew the team names? He knew that it was likely one of the only ways a stranger could be invited into their house? He knew about the church socials?

"Harry Feldman was your coach, huh," Father was saying. "A good man, and a good player – but he lacked the ruthlessness that makes a team work extra hard."

James chuckled. "That may be true, sir."

"He retired what, two years back?"

"Yes he did, sir."

"Have you heard from him recently? Haven't seen him myself for longer'n that. Retired myself eight years ago, this summer."

Their voices overlapped and turned to a distant hum. Susanna whirled around to press her back to the wall, her heart pounding in the darkness of the hallway as she blinked around. James there. He was in her house. He had found her. And he was charming her parents.

A split second, and she soared into the bathroom. Her curls were tousled from lounging on her bed, and in a jiffy tidied them up and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Her breath was a little short, stopping short at the top of the stairs, Susanna smoothed down her plaid skirt and tried to walk down with some dignity, her hand on the railing to keep from trembling.

The conversation stopped. Smiling benignly, Susanna asked innocently, "We have visitors?"

Her parents glanced at her, smiling, but it was James she saw. He was staring, and it was a good thing her parents weren't looking at him – a grin curled his lips, and he inclined his head ever so slightly, his blue eyes shining with admiration.

"Come meet James, Susanna," Mother said, gesturing her to enter the sitting room. "He played against the Warriors years ago."

"Is that so?" Susanna quirked her brow at James, but he appeared unfazed.

"What are the chances?" he asked lazily.

"It was at the church social you recognized Mr. Dickson?" Mother asked, turning back to their guest.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I didn't know you went to St. Francis's," her father said.

"That I do," James said with a laugh. "But I haven't seen you before – likely we go to mass at different times."

"We go at 8 a.m. every Sunday," Mother said with a simper. Susanna pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. "We haven't missed a day since that blizzard two years ago. Susanna plays the organ there, sometimes for all the masses on Sunday. Surely you've seen her, before." It was an innocent remark, her mother being perfectly friendly to a fellow Catholic and a baseball player to boot. Susanna flushed all the same, sitting primly on an armchair opposite the couch.

"Yes, I think I have," James said slowly, his eyes on her face as if to study her. "I do my best singing when she's playing the pipes."

Susanna dug her heel into the carpet, giving him as much as a glare as she dared.

"Perhaps we'll see you there, sometime," Mother said.

"I'd like that." James's smile never faded. "I'd best be off now; my ma is expecting me back. Thank you for letting me into your home, sir. It was a pleasure catching up on the teams."

Father stood, and shook his hand. Susanna stared as James took her mother's hand next. All she got was a saucy wink.

"Good night, James," Mother said, leading him to the door.

"Good night, Mrs. Dickson." And a moment later, she heard the car door shut, and the engine rev.

"Well!" Mother said, gliding back into the room. "What a nice young man."

Father had picked up the newspaper again, and gave a grunt of agreement. Susanna stayed a moment longer, just until the headlights of the car turned out of sight, and retreated to her bedroom.

But she couldn't stay still. She paced a little, and tried to forget that she had lost the bet to James.

A date. A date! Somehow she didn't feel much like a loser.