“This is a real gas, dad, this place. This is Endsville, dad.”

 

epub or mobi, with many thanks to the anonymous contributor

 

Hazel has some nice rackets. She runs El Palacio for a smart money man who knows some other uses for a movie house besides showing movies. People who ask for reserved seats can arrange for a game, play a number, score, buy a girl who’s game, or some “sneak” for one who’s not, read the latest news, or report it—depending on their fancies—and accomplish sundry other illicit tasks. Besides these, Hazel occasionally makes the scene as “the unknown blonde woman” found in the husband’s hotel room when the wife and the private detective walk in. For this service, Hazel charges New York’s incompatibly married couples fifty dollars, which is cheap enough in a state where divorce is dependent upon one-half of the couple being caught in a compromising situation.

“I need to score, Hazel,” Tea says. “I’m all hung up.”

She stretches her feet out on the bed, kicks off a pair of soiled white mules. Her body bulges under the kimono. She reaches back for the gin bottle, swigs, brushes off some that runs down her chin, and sets it back. “Oooh, sonny, you’re such a serious little Latin. Look at your eyes.” Her own eyes slide up and down Tea’s lithe body, and her mouth makes a lopsided grin.

“How’d you ever get the name Hot Hazel, anyway?” Tea says in mock dismay. She reaches forward and pinches his chin. Her kimono falls open and Tea sees her breasts heaving like melons, the nipples awake.