Prohibition is the law of the land, but Nellie needs cash - after socking a gangster in the face, she's got ten days to make it right. Frightened and caught empty-handed, Nellie turns bootlegger.
She accepts a job from her sly friend Lola to pick up...
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TUESDAY, MAY 12 1925
I'm running late when Felix knocks—I've only just finished getting dressed and outlining my eyes. But I set the brush down and rush to the door anyhow.
I open it to find no trace of the Felix I saw in the garage the day before. He's wearing a smart gray suit and he's combed his hair perfectly.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Ha-ha," Felix says, and he joins me inside.
"I'm nearly ready."
I use my silly little mirror to finish smudging makeup along my eyes. Felix stands in the center of the room with his arms crossed. I scowl at myself in the mirror—at my bland hazel eyes and light, lifeless hair—but most of all at the flush that's creeping up under my layer of makeup.
I fetch my pearls and drape them over my neck, then follow them up with my shawl. "I'll finish in the cab," I say.
After snatching my evening handbag and my newly returned shoes, I'm ready to go. Once I lock the door we descend down, into the night.
We have to walk to a busier corner to find a cab. Felix offers his arm and I take it. He is supposed to be my date for the evening, after all.
"Did you go out and buy something just for this party?"
Felix glances down at me. "Yes," he says, "I thought I should look sophisticated."
"You look very handsome," I tell him, and he's so terribly pleased I wonder that I haven't noticed the small streak of vanity in him before.
I wave down a cab and we climb inside. We could have probably borrowed the Müller's family car, but I didn't want to be associated with it, considering the job we are about to accept.
I give the driver the address and then settle back into the worn seat. Felix makes do with the small amount of space for his long legs and it doesn't look terribly comfortable.
"You look lovely Nellie."
I tell myself it's too dark in this cab for him to see me turn red. But why should I be embarrassed? It's just a statement. We've been good friends for months.
"Thanks," I say, "I try." And speaking of trying, I needed to finish up my makeup.
I pull out my compact to apply a layer of lipstick. "All the gals will think you're mysterious, if you don't want to talk."
Felix mutters something that is definitely not in English and worries at his collar.
"Just try not to be a cad. We'll make the rounds, say hello, and take our leave."
He nods and I stow my lipstick. That was a little unfair of me. Felix is rarely a cad, if ever. I brush on a little more mascara, give my lashes a few test blinks and find him staring at me.
