Read Bitter Spirits for Free Online Page B

today.
    Aida waited for a customer to pay his check, then stepped up to the register and rubbed the potbellied Buddha for luck. “Afternoon.”
    â€œMiss Palmer,” Mrs. Lin replied cheerfully. The kindly Chinese businesswoman was petite in height and round in girth, with pretty plump cheeks and loops of black hair pinned tightly above the nape of her neck.
    â€œAny mail for me today?”
    â€œMail and more.” Mrs. Lin lifted a small key that hung on a long chain around her neck and opened a lacquered red cabinet behind the counter, which housed tenant mail and packages. She retrieved two pieces of mail. The first was from a woman in Philadelphia; Aida had performed regular séances for her when she’d worked at a club there last year, and they’d since maintained a correspondence.
    The second envelope was from an address in New Orleans. The Limbo Room, a new speakeasy. The owner, a Mr. Bradley Bix, was interested in booking her later this summer. He would be in San Francisco visiting his cousin at the end of June and proposed to call on her after taking in one of her performances at Gris-Gris. If he was satisfied by what he saw, he would offer her a booking. He included a brochure printed with photographs of the club, intended for potential members; their annual fees were much higher than Gris-Gris and the photographs made it look nice. It was a good prospect, and she was happy to receive it, but part of her was growing weary of planning her next move when she was barely situated at her current job.
    Or maybe she was being too sentimental about San Francisco.
    A group of noisy customers approached the counter. Aida moved out of their way and turned to find herself face-to-face with someone familiar.
    â€œI said you had mail and more,” Mrs. Lin explained. “Mr. Yeung is ‘more.’ Been waiting for you the last half hour. I was going to send Mr. Lin to fetch you, but the kitchen is backed up.”
    â€œBo,” Aida said in surprise, greeting Magnusson’s assistant, who was dressed in another smart suit and brown argyle newsboy cap. “Mr. Yeung, I mean. What a pleasant surprise.”
    He politely canted his head. “Either is fine. And it’s nice to see you again.”
    â€œHow’s your boss doing?” she asked in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder at Mrs. Lin. The restaurant owner was making small talk with the customers at the counter.
    â€œMuch better. And no ghosts,” Bo reported. “Or at least, none following him. He sent me here to inquire if you’d be willing to get rid of the ghost in his study.”
    Aida’s pulse quickened as adrenaline zipped through her. “Oh?”
    â€œIt shows up mid-afternoon, so that’s why he sent me to fetch you now. If it’s not too inconvenient, I’ve got the car outside.”
    â€œRight now?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo he just assumed I would drop what I was doing and rush over there?”
    â€œTo be honest, people usually do,” Bo said with a sly smile. “He wants to hire your services this time. For payment.”
    Aida almost laughed. “I’m very expensive.”
    â€œHe’s very rich.”
    â€œI expect he is.”
    â€œHe’s impatient as a boy on Christmas and never invites people up to the house, so you should probably come. Let’s get going before everyone finishes their lunch and jams the roads.”
    Calling on a man in his home? Surely wasn’t a sensible thing to do, especially a man like
that
. But when did she ever shy away from a novel experience? And it certainly would be interesting to find out where a rich bootlegger lived.
    Besides, she could always use the cash, so she should probably go. The dimples in the small of his back had absolutely, positively nothing to do with it.
    â€œI can’t stay long,” she told Bo. Then she slipped her mail into her handbag and waved at Mrs. Lin, whose keen