Dollface: A Novel of the Roaring Twenties Read Online Free PDF Page A

clothes and I was the one the girls turned to for makeup tips. I had a knack for it and showed them how to line their eyes and apply their rouge. Even Helen next door, with her bad overbite and ruddy complexion, managed to look pretty when I was finished with her.
    “How’s this?” Evelyn turned to face me, holding the black grease-stick liner in her hand. “Did I make them even this time?”
    I tilted my head and studied her dark brown eyes for a moment. “Almost.”
    She frowned and looked again in the mirror.
    “It’s not bad,” I told her, reaching for the liner. “Let me just get the outer edges for you.”
    By the time we were ready to leave for the night, Evelyn and I looked right in fashion, just as long as you didn’t get too close to see a mismatched button here, a loose thread there, or the safety pins holding up our hems.
    We rode a crowded el car, holding on to the leather ceiling straps for balance until our stop at Lawrence, where we got off and walked over to Broadway. When we arrived at the Green Mill, the hostess stood in the doorway ushering us inside. It was early, but the place was already stomping. The Green Mill had the best jazz in the city and I’d heard it was the place to meet eligible men. That was a plus since Evelyn was still hoping to find a date for New Year’s. We’d barely gotten our coats checked and already a young man with a neat little goatee came over.
    “How’s about a dance?” he asked, looking at me.
    I could tell by the way he snapped his fingers that he had no rhythm. “Maybe later,” I said. “Mama needs a cocktail first.”
    “Well, let me take care of that for you.”
    Even though they weren’t the kind of fellas I was looking for—no flair, no charisma, no sex appeal—I never had a problem meeting men when we went out. Not like Evelyn. It was harder for her. Usually I’d bring the guys over and introduce them to her. That’s how she met Izzy Seltzer. She can blame that one on me.
    I wasn’t even finished with my first drink when Izzy came up to me, twisted his pinkie ring and said, “You’re a doll, you know that? A living doll.”
    He did have those movie-star looks with his strong jawline and cleft chin, but I wasn’t falling for his charms. He was just like that Tony Liolli, and something told me I couldn’t trust him.
    But Evelyn couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Who was that?” she whispered when he walked away. “Do you know him?”
    After watching her follow him around the room with her puppy-dog eyes, I finally went and got Izzy and brought him over to her.
    “What are you girls up to tonight?” he asked, turning toward me, looking at my mouth first and then my body and then my eyes.
    “Just out for a little fun,” answered Evelyn. “What about you? What are you up to?”
    “I gotta get a drink,” he said, still looking at me. “You girls need another?”
    Evelyn and I held up our full glasses.
    “Do you think he’s coming back?” Evelyn fretted after he’d walked away, craning her neck to keep an eye on him.
    “Relax. He’s just at the bar. And when he does come back, don’t act so eager.”
    Evelyn nodded, still looking at Izzy.
    “Just relax.”
    Izzy was skirting his way through the crowd with his drink in hand and I cringed when Evelyn waved him over. “Hey, Izzy!” she called out. “Over here!”
    So while Evelyn jabbered away with Izzy, I watched a group of loudmouths at a front table playing a drinking game that involved four cigarettes and three matchsticks.
    The one dealing out cigarettes saw me staring. “Wanna play?” he asked.
    “What’s the object?” It seemed to me that no matter what the outcome, they all took a drink anyway.
    “To get as drunk as you can, as fast as you can.” They cracked up laughing and started in on another round.
    “Sounds swell, but I think I’ll just watch.”
    As I fished an olive out of my martini, I looked up and noticed a short, round man coming through the doorway