“I don’t kill so easy,” he said, laughing. “Like I said—the harder the struggle, the sweeter the conquest.”
“Molly? I’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready yet?” Rose’s voice echoed behind us, unnaturally loud.
Katz spun around. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Keeping an eye on Molly and making sure she gets home safe and sound,” Rose said calmly. She walked over to me, linked her arm through mine, and dragged me away. “Let’s go home now, Molly,” she said. Then she walked with me calmly out of that door and down the long, empty workroom.
“Thank you,” I stammered. “If you hadn’t come back for me, I don’t know what might have happened.”
“I hung around,” she said. “I thought he might try it. I’ve noticed him looking at you. He tries it with all the pretty new girls.”
“He’s disgusting,” I said, wiping my mouth with my hand and fighting back a desire to vomit. “The owner should be told. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”
“Mr. Lowenstein doesn’t care about anything except quick profits,” Rose said. “How often do you think he even shows up here? Hardly ever. And Katz gets the work done on time for him. That’s all he cares about.”
“I’m putting a knife in my skirt pocket in the future,” I said, “in case he tries it again.”
“He won’t,” Rose said. “He’ll go on to someone who’s easier. That’s one thing you can count on around here—a never ending supply of girls.”
“Not when we get the union going,” I said.
Rose chuckled. “Another redhead just like me. We’re all born fighters, Molly. I’m so glad you came here. We’ll show ’em; won’t we?”
“We’ll set the dogs on Mr. Katz!”
We linked arms and left the building smiling.
On Monday morning an old gentleman with a neat white beard came into our workroom. He wore a long black coat and top hat and he carried a silver-tipped cane. The effect was rather like an elderly wizard.
“Guten Morgen,” he said in German. “Everyone working hard. That’s good. Where is Katz?”
Katz came flying out of the back room at the sound of the voice.
“Mr. Lowenstein—such a privilege that you should visit us,” he said, groveling. “Everything is going well, sir. The order will go out today like you wanted.”
“Gut. Gut.” Lowenstein rubbed his hands together. “And think about taking on some more girls. Busy season coming up. I should have the new designs in the next week or so and then it’s full speed ahead, ja? A bonus for everybody if we get the first batch of new dresses in the stores two weeks before Christmas.” He rubbed his hands together again. “It’s cold in here, Katz. How can these girls do their best work if it’s cold? Get the oil stoves out, man.”
“Papa, are you coming?” A slim, dark-haired beauty made her way gingerly down the outside steps and poked her head through the door. She was wearing a fur-trimmed bonnet and a big blue cape, also trimmed with white fur. The cape was open and she wore a black velvet ribbon around her throat on which hung a silver locket, sparkling with precious stones. She posed in the doorway, conscious that all those eyes were on her.
“It’s too cold waiting out in the carriage,” she said. “Hurry up, please or we’ll be late for our lunch appointment.”
“Coming, my dearest.” Mr. Lowenstein looked up at her and smiled. “Sorry I can’t stay longer. Keep working, everyone. Good-bye.”
He waved and joined his daughter.
“How about some of us help you carry the oil stoves, Mr. Katz?” Rose asked, not wanting him to be able to wriggle out of it while the boss was in earshot. “Come on, Molly and Golda and Lanie. Let’s help him.”
“Very well. Come on, then.” He stomped into the back room and finally unearthed two oil stoves from a storage closet. We picked up one between two of us and carried them out.
“So that was the boss?” I whispered to Rose as we staggered out with the stove.
She nodded. “He might look like a nice old gentleman, but he’s hard as nails. When Gussie died of consumption right before he gave out the Christmas bonus last year, he wouldn’t even send the bonus to her family. And how do you think she got sick in the first place? Sitting in this damp hole, that’s how.”
“And that was the boss’s daughter, I take it?”
She made a face. “Letitia, her name is. Only child. Spoiled rotten.”
We set down the stoves and waited for Katz to come with the can of kerosene. I couldn’t get the picture of the boss’s daughter out of my mind. There had been something disturbing about her, something that made me uneasy. I thought some more, but couldn’t put my finger on it.