“I’d love to hear them,” Mabel said.
“I hope you’ll get to. Kid just needs his lucky break is all.” Theta held her wrap on one shoulder. “Showtime, dolls. Give the place a look like you’re too good for the dump. Just follow me.”
Theta sauntered past the tables, not deigning to look at anyone. Heads turned as Theta, Evie, and Mabel followed the host through the crowded tables. They were Shebas in their flapper finery, and they drew appreciative gazes. A few people recognized Theta from the Follies.
“Must be the duck’s quack to be famous,” Evie said.
Theta shrugged. “They think they know me, but they don’t.”
The host seated them at a table in a corner and handed them menus printed on heavy cream-colored paper. Mabel’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe these prices!”
“Believe it,” Theta said. “Make sure you like whatever you order, ’cause you’ll be nursing it all night long.”
“My mother would cast a kitten over the excess,” Mabel said guiltily.
“Your mother isn’t here.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Evie muttered.
A waiter appeared with a bottle of champagne and a silver bucket of ice. “Sorry, pal. We didn’t order bubbly,” Theta said.
“For the ladies. From an appreciative gentleman,” the waiter said.
“Which one?” Evie said, craning her neck.
“Mr. Samson at table fifteen,” the waiter said, indicating delicately with a nod.
“Oh, brother,” Theta said.
“What is it?” Evie couldn’t see too well in the dark.
“See that fella across the way? Don’t be obvious about it.”
The girls peeked over the tops of their menus. Four tables over sat a heavyset man with a very full mustache and the smug air of Wall Street success. “The one who looks like a walrus without a zoo?” Evie asked.
“The same. He’s one of those chumps who wants to feel like he’s young and exciting. Probably got a wife and three brats up in Bedford and thinks we’ll show him a good time. Oh, he’s looking at us. Smile, girls.”
Evie flashed her teeth, and the older man raised his glass. The girls raised theirs in reply. The man blew a kiss and motioned for them to join him.
“What now?” Evie asked through still-smiling teeth.
“Now it’s really showtime.” Theta knocked back her champagne and let loose an enormous belch that drew disgusted stares from people nearby. “Nothing like a good glass of giggle water to help a girl’s insides!” Theta said loudly and patted her stomach.
Across the floor, the older man’s glass hung in midair. He looked quickly away.
“He’s scandalized!” Evie said on a giggle.
“Now he can go home to his wife in Bedford and we can enjoy his grape juice in peace.”
“How’d you get so smart?”
“Hard knocks,” Theta said. She and Evie toasted and sipped the man’s champagne.
Mabel signaled for a waiter. “Could I have a Sloe Gin Fizz, without the gin?”
“What’s the point of that, Miss?” the waiter said.
“Tomorrow morning,” Mabel said.
“If you say so, Miss.”
“How’s Henry making out?” Theta asked, craning her head. Several tables away, Henry lounged in a chair wearing an expression of beautiful, bored elegance as he listened to the man with the parrot.
“He’s not really your brother, is he?” Evie said.
Theta smirked. “Now you’ve done it. People will talk.”
Theta was so deadpan that it took Evie a second to realize she was kidding.
“How did you meet?”
“On the street. I was starving, and he gave me part of his sandwich. He’s a real pal.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why didn’t the two of you…?”
Theta narrowed her eyes and blew out a thin stream of smoke. It felt to Evie as if she were weighing her answer. “We just didn’t go for each other. He may not be my real brother, but he feels like one to me. I’d do anything for him.”
Henry sauntered toward them and Theta scooted over to make room.
“What did I miss?” he asked. “Say, where did the champagne come from?”
“Lonely walrus,” Evie explained and giggled. She was already feeling a little tipsy, more from excitement and optimism than from the champagne. She liked Theta and Henry. They were so sophisticated—not like anybody she’d known back home. She hoped they liked her, too.