Page 41 of Working for the Mob

On our way to lunch, I dragged Art and Lucy into a bookshop. I didn’t make them stay for long, and we soon were able to stop for lunch at a sandwich shop. We didn’t talk about what happened at the hardware store. Instead, Art asked us about improvements we could make to the café, and Lucy rattled off a list of items she wanted to bake.

I sat and ate my French dip.

The next store Art took us to resembled a warehouse more than a hardware store, but he and Lucy picked out a model from the store’s catalog. Art really listened to Lucy’s input on what she wanted in the stove. And Lucy described more specifications than just aesthetics.

Her recommendations centered around control of the heat in the oven. She even explained that she needed enough room to place a pot of boiling water in case she wanted to control the humidity; I had thought Lucy knew how humidity impacted her hair.

They planned the delivery date for the weekend, which meant that Lucy and I would be baking another week with our kitchen’s oven. At least Jamie had been stopping by in the afternoons to help Lucy bake while I worked at Art’s office.

I pulled my coat up once we left the store as a frigid breeze whipped our faces. The wind sped through the buildings much stronger than in East Lannington. After a long day out, I was ready to go home and be by the fireplace, even though we ran dangerously low on chopped wood. I could only take solace in the fact that my feet would’ve hurt a lot more had I not prepared them for today.

When I turned in the direction of the train station, Art argued that he had one more stop that he wanted to make in the city. He headed south, past midtown and through Broadway.

Lucy recognized landmarks first. “I know where we are. Madame Levie’s is just up here,” she said. We had arrived at the shopping district.

Shops and boutiques lined the street, with dressed mannequins in each window.

“Can we stop at Madame Levie’s?” she pleaded with Art. “Please? I just want to browse. The new winter line should be out by now.”

An uneasy expression came over Art’s face, and I thought I knew why. Shopping with women was one of the things men hated to do. I thought he was about to tell her no until he simply said, “Lead the way.”

As we walked through the Garment District, I eyed each shop we passed with envy. I didn’t know whether I actually wanted to go inside Madame Levie’s. Although Art had reimbursed us for the ingredients for the bread, we had already spent most of the ten dollars he had given us the previous weekend. Would I be able to visit a store knowing that I couldn’t afford anything in there?

Lucy felt the same longing as we passed each shop. She pressed her face against the glass of an adorable boutique, until I dragged her away.

We arrived at Madame Levie’s cute shop, nestled between two corner stores. A painted sign with pink letters said “Madame Levie’s” above three identical mannequins in the store window. Two of them wore full ensembles, including winter coats.

However, the mannequin furthest on the right wore a devilish black dress. A midnight one-piece, sleeveless, crepe dress that stopped just above the knees. I knew I would turn heads in that dress. Hell, a dress like that would be scandalous in a place like East Lannington.

“Genny,” Lucy called to me. She held the door open for me. “Are you coming?”

I reluctantly stepped inside, knowing that I couldn’t buy anything. I held the door for Art, and he entered as well, although his eyes lingered on the storefront.

Rows of dresses lined the walls of the boutique; every type you could imagine. Cocktail dresses in the front, with work appropriate dresses in the back. In between hung everything in between, including Sunday dresses, winter coats, formal wear, stockings, flats, heels, and undergarments.

Sequined cocktail dresses drew Lucy’s attention immediately, while I perused the back of the shop for clothes to wear during the week. I didn’t know the next time I would be invited to a party, but I knew I’d be working this coming week.

Art followed me to the back, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his head down. He was close behind me when an elderly lady waddled out of the backroom.

“Oh my, it’s a ghost!” Madame Levie said, once she walked in the room. The boutique owner always reminded me of an owl, with her thick glasses and short neck. A burgundy shawl draped over her shoulders, on top of a royal blue gown.

Her high-pitched voice said, “Lucy Baker, I haven’t seen you in here for months.”

Lucy squealed, ran over, and hugged Madame Levie tightly. “Madame Levie, I am sorry I haven’t been here sooner. I’ve been out of town.”

“Found another boyfriend, no doubt,” Madame Levie said, and surveyed Art up and down, as though admiring a racehorse. “I dare say you found quite the catch.”

She held her hand out for Art to kiss, and he looked at me, panicked. “Am I allowed to leave?”

Madame Levie didn’t miss the exchange.

“Oh, you’re with Gwendolyn?” she asked, and smoothy brought her hand back while I flushed.

“Genevieve,” Lucy said.

“No,” I said, emphatically. “No, no, no. We’re not here together. Actually, he’s with both of us.”

“Howbohemian,” Madame Levie said, impressed. She raised her eyebrows with an unnerving smile.

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