He set the remainder of the books on an empty spot next to the TAs and slipped away. By the time she realized he hadn't told her where to go or what time to meet-and, more importantly, that she didn't want to go anywhere with him anyway-Chas was gone.
"Wear something that shows off my legs my eye," she muttered, already considering what she could wear that didn't. Because pretty much everything she owned did.
Then she smiled. What was she worried about? She wasn't going anywhere with Chas. She had other plans.
"That is an adorable chapeau. " Chelle reached to finger the velvet roses adorning Macey's headband-like scarf. "I love the detail. Where did you get it?"
"It's a new place I found called Cookie's. " Macey gave her companions directions to the shop, figuring Temple's aunt could always use the business, then looked up and down the street again. "Have you heard from Flora? Is she coming?"
Macey, Chelle, an
d Dottie were standing outside the front of the Palmer, which rose twenty-five stories above them in an elegant brick structure. Although the entire hotel had been renovated and expanded over the last three years, it had remained open during the entire time. But now that the work was finished, there was to be a gala to celebrate the largest hotel in the world being completely redone.
Flora, if she was coming-for no one knew for certain-was late, and they'd been waiting for nearly thirty minutes. Automobiles and taxis bogged down the street, pulling up to the curb and stopping traffic. The bellmen were non-stop, assisting jewel-and-fur-clad women and fashionable men from their vehicles and beckoning them into the hotel. The sounds of loud, excited conversation and jazzy music spilled into the evening air every time one of the doors opened.
The sun had just sunk below the city skyline, and the last bit of pink-orange in the sky was fading. Streetlights were already on and the bright lights from Joony's Vaudeville and the uptown B&K motion picture theater blinked enthusiastically from opposite ends of the block. On nights like this, Chicago was colorful, well lit, and boisterous-a far cry from one-cross-street Skittlesville. Macey loved the vivacity and the activity. She felt as if she belonged here.
"I want that lady's boa," Chelle murmured into her ear as a woman climbed out of a dark red Cadillac. "The pink feather one? With the sparkles?"
"Darling. And it would look so snappy with your coffee-colored frock. "
"Right. The one with the seed pearls. Yes. " Chelle smoothed her perfectly straight brown hair, tucking the short strands back so they flipped forward in a perfect curl around her ear. "And look at her shoes. "
Chelle was a little taller than Macey, and rounder in the hips and bosom, but she knew how to dress fashionably to suit her body type. She worked at Field's Department Store and got great discounts on the best clothing, which she, in turn, passed on to her friends. She was the one who'd introduced the Simington Side-Lacer to them as an alternative to binding the breasts, as the most trendy flapper dresses required, and for that, Macey was eternally grateful.
"It's chilly out here. " Macey pulled the smoky gray velvet wrap closer around her shoulders and throat. She was wearing a calf-length slip of sheer pink material over a short opaque under-dress with slim shoulder straps, and the ensemble-though very fashionable-was little protection against the cooling April air. Her shoes were a soft dove color, and she'd clipped a black bow with jet beads onto each one, and wore gathered gray gloves. The outfit had cost an entire paycheck, but she'd been saving it for a special occasion. And this was definitely one.
"Here comes Al," someone said behind them, and Macey looked up.
"Oh my God. . . that's Al Capone!" hissed Dottie needlessly as she grabbed at her two friends' arms.
Sure enough, the infamous gangster had just stepped out of a sleek black automobile. Rumor had it the vehicle was armored, which wasn't a surprise since his colleague and former boss, Jimmy Colosimo, had been gunned down only a few months ago.
Capone was dressed in a white suit with a black shirt. A red tie and red and black spotted handkerchief added color. His hair was slicked back, and he didn't wear a hat, so his jowly face and heavy brows were fully evident. He was a solid man, stocky and yet surprisingly graceful. A cadre of men in dark suits surrounded him and kept the rapidly gathering bystanders at a distance as their boss laughed jovially with one of his companions. He paused on the sidewalk to jest with three other men who'd alighted from the same vehicle. Macey vaguely recognized them from pictures in the paper, but she didn't know their names.
"Mr. Capone!" A flashbulb popped. "Is Johnny Torrio ever coming back?"
"Hey, Snorky! Are you going to meet with the new mayor?" called another voice. Laughter spattered through the audience, for everyone knew Capone and Mayor Thompson were already very cozy.
"Mr. Capone! What do you think of the city council meeting about banning smoking on the street?"
The gangster gestured to the crowd at random, his cigar clamped between two thick, powerful fingers. "Now you don't want to get me talking about business tonight, boys. I'm here to have a good time-and check out the competition. " He laughed and breezed on into the hotel.
Macey shivered, a chill lifting the hair on her arms. She couldn't believe she'd been less than ten feet away from one of the most dangerous men in Chicago.
"How much longer should we wait for Flora?" Dottie was standing on tiptoes, presumably hoping
"I left another message at her boarding house earlier today," Chelle said. "Said we were going to meet here at seven. Her landlady said something about her being at work, though. It's quarter till eight. She must not be coming. Let's go in! I wonder if that lady will tell me where she bought her shoes. "
"Yes. Even though we have tickets, Ben warned me it could get too crowded with crashers, and they might have to stop letting ticket-holders in. " Dottie took one last look up the street, frowning. "That's too bad for Flora. I hope she at least got the message. That landlady of hers is a real bitch, and always drunk to boot. "
Macey felt more than a little guilty as she followed her friends inside, but they couldn't wait on the sidewalk all night. Then a spur of excitement nicked her as she stepped into the hotel lobby.
Crowded with people, the space nevertheless didn't feel close because the ceiling was so high. Graceful arches painted gold with art deco designs rose three stories above them. Red upholstered chairs and sofas were arranged in clusters throughout the lobby, the tables between them laden with massive vases of flowers.
"Ben said to go toward the north-side dining area and find the powder room. There's a cabaret in there, if you know the password to get in. We do. " Dottie's eyes gleamed and her smile was bright. With her light blue eyes and shiny blond hair, she was an interesting mixture of sass and innocence.
"We do?" Chelle asked, dragging her attention away from a woman in a red dress with gaudy makeup and a feathered turban. "Wait. There's a cabaret in the powder room?" She giggled and tucked her hair behind her ear.