Page 55 of Working for the Mob

A whiplash overtook me as he hopped in his car. A pot full of anger still bubbled inside me, but there was no one for me to aim it towards.

Lucy danced into the room in a one-piece green dress and matching felt style hat that brought out her eyes.

“Don’t I just look stunning?”

She looked marvelous. All eyes would be drawn to her tonight. A flower in a sea of brown leaves. I pursed my lips. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I could be wearing a more fashionable dress to Jamie’s as well.

“You look like Alice Terry,” I said, and Lucy swooned.

“You better get ready soon. The party starts soon,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. What do you wear to a speakeasy anyway?

I pushed past her, headed into my room, opened the closet, and my jaw dropped. I rubbed my eyes, just to make sure I was seeing correctly.

Dresses squeezed in from the left wall to the right. The closet must hold every dress at Madame Levie’s in my size. Every color, every style, every fabric. A red gown caught my eye and I pulled it out––I knew that Lucy owned the very shade of red lipstick to match.

The sleeveless dress came with a matching boa draped around the hanger; perfect for the weather tonight.

Art did this. Without asking me, he bought an entire wardrobe, worth as much as a year’s salary for most people. I couldn’t afford this.

“Lucy!” I called out, and brought my dress to her room, where she viewed her reflection in front of a standing mirror. “What is this?”

“Oh, that is gorgeous,” she said, and reached out to touch it. “He has incredible taste.”

“Art? Did you know he bought me this?”

“Of course. He helped Madame Levie to select you as many dresses as I picked out,” Lucy said.

“When?”

“While you were in the back trying on your Amish clothes. Did he not tell you?”

“No, he did nottell me. Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Oh, Genny. You shouldneverstop a man from buying you this,” she said, and grabbed the dress. She held the dress up to herself. “You’re going to turn a few heads in this.”

“We need to return them,” I said. “I can’t continue to do this.”

“Madame Levie doesn’t take returns,” Lucy scoffed, and I growled in frustration.

Lucy never understood. I stormed out of the room and flung the dress on the bed. Art had no right to buy me this dress. No matter how much I refused, he kept digging me further and further into his debt. It had to stop. And I needed to return all of the dresses.

Except for the red one, which I needed to wear tonight.

I searched my dresser for a slip I had socked away from the donation bag. I pulled open my underwear drawer to another surprise: the drawer was stocked full. Art had asked Madame Levie for ‘bloomers’ and I received much more than bloomers. Corsets, bandeaus, brassieres, garters, stockings, and of course silk bloomers stuffed two drawers completely full. Art bought me enough undergarments to run a cabaret.

“How did you get roped into driving us tonight?” I asked Henry from the backseat of his Packard. Being Art’s number two must be a lucrative position.

I let Lucy and her plate of scones sit in the front. I didn’t get in the way of any of their flirting.

“Roped into it?” Henry asked, in mock outrage. “I volunteered for this job. Chauffeuring the Baker sisters is a privilege.”

His ear-to-ear grin at Lucy said all the reasons why he considered it a privilege.

“I just assumed Art ordered you around like everyone else,” I said. I didn’t care how childish I looked with my arms crossed in the backseat.

“You know, Art’s really not all that bad,” he said, and I rolled my eyes. “Look at me.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.

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