"...She appeared at the Grand Casino late one evening, dressed in a gold silk gown, her hair twisted inside a matching turban, escorted by Gotti and a coterie of his friends. She spoke very little French and almost no Italian and as a result seemed sullen in comparison to her companions, smoking steadily, rolling her eyes when autograph seekers approached, scanning the room nervously for more when they disappeared.
It was a sweltering, humid evening. Eva arrived later, after a dance competition that she had entered with an Argentinian polo star. Lamb was doing rather well that evening without her.
Valmont was waiting at a table on his own, watching for her. From where he was seated, off to one side, he had a clear view. He saw Eva enter, pausing at the doorway, surveying the scene.
Her eyes rested on the centre craps table, where Gotti was attempting to impress his new lover by placing higher and higher bets. Eva watched as he urged her to blow on his dice for good luck; Kay Waverley, in all her golden glory, hung from his arm, distracted and bored.
There was something about Eva's face, her level of concentration, that stuck Valmont. Her energy had always been mercurial, uneasy and agitated. But right then, right there, she solidified. Her focus, on Gotti and especially on Kay Waverley, sharpened into a fixed stare. It was as if she'd suddenly spotted something she'd been searching for, for a very long time. He didn't realize it until much later, but in that brief, unguarded moment, Valmont observed a complete shift in Eva's personality. Nothing about her changed outwardly, but internally, a decision had been made. In that moment, she turned away from him, towards a separate, shadowy agenda of her own.
Rummaging in his coat pocket, he took out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. 'Look, I've always been straight with you, Dorsey. And now you owe me, quite a bit.'
'But it's different now. She's here now.'
He leaned in. 'How are you going to look after a baby on your own? Think about it. Once you get past the romance of it, what's it going to be like day to day? Where are you going to live? How are you going to make ends meet? Who do you think is going to hire an unmarried girl with a baby in tow?' He exhaled a long stream of smoke.
'Do you want to die in poverty and have your little girl do the same?'
'Stop it!' She turned her face away. 'It doesn't have to be that way.'
'No, it doesn't. Listen to me-I have a sister. Lovely, accomplished. Kingd. Married to a good man, a war hero. They have no children. But they do have a large house, money, and social position-something money can't buy.'
'Please!' She took his hand. 'Give me some time.'
'We haven't got time.' He shook her off. 'How do you think we've been living up till now? For God's sake! If I don't win tomorrow, we'll get kicked out-I can't even pay the rent.' He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.
'You don't have to give her up for ever,' he pointed out, calmer now. 'Just until you've got yourself back on your feet. You come to Europe with me and we make some real money. The casinos there are sagging with millionaires. And when we've had enough, we come back.'
He stroked her hair, pushing gently back from her face. 'And you, my dear, will have enough money to buy our own house with a garden, pay for good schools and beautiful frocks. You'll be a rich woman, able to give her anything she needs or wants. But nothing is free, Dorsey. You know that. Besides, she's only a baby. She won't remember who looked after her when she was tiny.'
'I will.'
'Maybe, but you owe me. I've looked after you for quite a while now.'
Excerpts from The Perfume Collector.
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