Evie leaned forward, resting her chin on her upturned palm. “What about you, Henry?”
“Me? I’m going to write songs for the pictures. Real songs. Not that gooey bushwa Flo Ziegfeld likes,” Henry drawled.
“To real songs!” Evie toasted. “Mabesie?”
“I’m going to help the poor. But first, I’m going to eat every bit of this.” Mabel swooned. “Heavenly.”
Theta cocked her head. “What about you, Evil?”
Evie turned her glass around slowly on the table. What could she say? I’m going to stop having nightmares about my dead brother. I’m going to let the past stop haunting me like a vengeful ghost. I’m going to find my place in the world and show everyone what I’m made of. She’d felt it from the moment she stepped off the train at Penn Station, a sense that she belonged here, that Manhattan was her true home. “This probably sounds silly….”
Henry let out a loud, dramatic laugh, then shrugged. “I just wanted to get it out of the way, darling.”
Evie grinned. Oh, she liked them both so much! “Ever since I got here, I’ve had the craziest feeling of destiny—that whatever is supposed to happen, whoever it is I’m going to be, is waiting just around the next corner. I want to be ready for it. I want to meet it headlong.” Evie raised her glass. “To whatever’s around the next corner.”
“I sure hope it’s not a car bearing down,” Mabel joked.
“To the good stuff just out of sight,” Theta echoed.
“To Evie’s destiny,” Henry said and touched his glass to theirs in a satisfying chime.
Evie paused, her glass in midair. “I don’t believe it. Of all the gall!”
“What’s eating you?” Theta asked.
Evie slammed her glass down, sloshing champagne onto the tablecloth. “Theta, take my purse. It’s got twenty bucks in it. You might need it to bail me out.”
“For the last time, what is it?”
“Sam Lloyd,” Evie hissed. She marched over to where he stood, leaning against a marble column, talking up a blond with a red Cupid’s bow mouth.
“Excuse me, Miss.” Evie sandwiched herself between them.
“Hey!” the girl objected, but Evie stood firm.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“What am I doing here? I come here all the time. What are you doing here?”
“Who’s she—your mother?” the blonde said in a voice so high it could break glass.
Evie turned. “I’m from the health department. You’ve heard of Typhoid Mary? This fella’s got enough typhoid to start his own colony.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Holy smokes!”
“You said it. Just to be safe, you might want to burn those glad rags you’ve got on. In fact, you might wanna burn them on principle.”
“Huh?”
Evie raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Why, Sam, she’s charming.” Evie turned back to the blonde, leaned in close and whispered, “You see that fella with the mustache over there?” Evie pointed to the walrus man. “He’s so rich he could buy Wool and Worth’s and still have enough left over for a steak dinner. Why don’t you go get him to buy you a drink?”
“You on the level?”
“And how. He’s a real Big Cheese. Trust me.”
The girl smiled. “Say, thanks for the tip, honey.”
“We Janes have to stick together.”