“How do I let you talk me into these things?” Dora asked as they crossed Canal Street, careful to look both ways for traffic before heading toward a placed called the Crescent City Speakeasy. It was just a few blocks away, but the summer sun was so intense that Dora already felt sweat soaking through her Chanel blouse. She should have changed into something more breathable, but she hadn’t wanted to give up her newly found persona.
“Because you love me,” Evie said cheerily. “And we always have fun. Admit it. Without me, all of the stories you’ll end up telling in the nursing home would involve something you watched on that morning talk show, Live with Kelly and Ryan.”
Dora snorted out a laugh. “You know I don’t watch morning talk shows.”
“But you would. Eventually, one day when you retire, that’s where you’d end up if not for me pushing you. I know it in my gut.”
“Thank the heavens I have you to save me then,” Dora said, meaning it. The scenario Evie had painted was far too relatable. While it was true that Dora didn’t watch daytime television, she feared she would end up a boring person with nothing else to do if she didn’t have Evie in her life. She turned and smiled at her friend. “Promise me we’ll still be having adventures when we’re eighty. Like I want to be traveling across Europe watching you pick up fifty-something hot Italians to entertain us over dinner.”
“Dor, by the time we’re eighty, I’ll have you trained to pick up your own Italian.” Evie winked and practically skipped across the street as Sunshine pranced beside her, the two of them acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Dora admired her friend’s ability to really live in the moment. For the life of her, Dora just wasn’t that girl. And until they found out what happened to the evidence they were looking for, she feared she’d be wound so tight that she’d be doing pirouettes down Bourbon Street. Or she would if she had any dance ability at all. Instead she’d probably end up flat on her butt in a puddle of questionable liquids.
“This is it,” Evie said excitedly as she fluffed her pink hair. “Come on. Let’s get our parade on.”
Against her better judgment, Dora followed Evie into the speakeasy. The club was a long, narrow, open space with eclectic art and various pieces of velvet furniture lining the walls. There were a few tables toward the back along with a small bar area. Dora had trouble imagining it full of patrons at night. The space was a little small for that. In fact, it already felt filled to capacity with the dozen or so older women milling about.
Dora still didn’t know why she’d agreed to Evie’s outlandish request. It was a bad idea. And the moment Dora spotted Myrtle sitting on a velvet green couch that had a scalloped tufted back, her heart sank. They couldn’t even use their aliases. They’d already told Myrtle their real names. Dumb, she thought. They needed to be smarter if they were going to get through this evidence hunt without Marco or the police finding them.
“Oh, good. You’re on time,” Flora said, striding toward them. She called out to the women gathered in the club. “Ladies, these are Gertie’s nieces I was telling you about.” Dora noticed Flora had changed and was now wearing bright floral leggings and a long T-shirt that had two sunflowers right over her saggy breasts, making the blooms look like they could use some sun to tilt them up toward the light.
Dora swallowed a snicker and had the insane desire to give the older lady a wardrobe makeover. Then she chuckled as she wondered exactly when she’d turned into a fashionista? Probably the moment she’d put on the fabulous Chanel clothes and felt more beautiful and confident than she ever had before.
Dora pulled back when a woman with hair dyed in an auburn shade moved into her space and attached both of her hands to Dora’s arm. “This one is perfect!” she exclaimed. She wore a white linen suit and bright red heels, making her by far the most put together woman in the room. “She’s going to make the most wonderful Scarlett. Don’t you think, Myrtle?”
Myrtle turned to Dora and smiled. “She sure will. All she’ll need is a dark wig and a corset to synch her waist. She has a glint in those striking dark eyes and a strong jaw that just screams Scarlett O’Hara. And that haughty confidence is already there.” Dora frowned, wondering if Myrtle was complimenting her or insulting her again. Myrtle asked, “What do you think, Evie?”
Evie’s mouth was hanging open, but as soon as Myrtle spoke to her, she closed it and studied Dora. “You know, once she has a low bodice on, I can definitely see it. But why do you want her to dress up like Scarlett?”
“For the float, dear,” Flora said impatiently. “The theme this year is famous couples in literature.”
“You’re kidding!” Evie clapped her hands together and squealed. “I can’t wait to see who her Rhett will be. Someone tall, dark, and handsome, I suppose. Is he a bad boy in real life, too? Because I’m going to be super disappointed if he isn’t.”
“Evie,” Dora warned. “I can’t be on the float.” She said the words, but as she heard them come out of her mouth, she wondered why the heck not? Once she was dressed up like Scarlett O’Hara, no one would know she was really Dora underneath. Besides, dressing up and riding in a parade was so far out of character for Dora no one she knew would expect it from her. Still, the guilt was right there under the surface, telling her she shouldn’t be doing anything other than looking for that flash drive.
“Of course, you can.” Evie turned to the women watching. “She’ll do it,” she said with a decisive nod. “For Gertie.”
Flora grinned, picked up champagne flute that Dora hadn’t noticed, and then lightly tapped the glass with a fork, creating a tinkling noise. The dozen or so ladies milling around the room stopped what they were doing and turned to Flora, each of them grabbing a glass of their own. “To our new Scarlett O’Hara. May this one stay firmly rooted to the float. We wouldn’t want her toppling off like Sissy did last year.”
Laughter broke out among the women. One of them called out, “Those men at the nursing home will never be the same again. I bet it’s the only… ah, pussy cat they’ve seen in years.”
A smattering of snickers filled the room.
“If she’d been wearing knickers, old man Jenkins probably never would’ve had that heart attack,” another one said. “Sissy is lucky the family didn’t sue. Heck, she’s lucky the city didn’t sue. Her coochie was broadcast over the live cam that is set up on that corner. It was the most action she’s seen since the eighties.”
“We’ll make sure she’s tethered to the float this time,” Flora said, her face tight. “We can’t afford another coochie incident.” She turned to Dora. “Please make sure you wear under garments, all right?”
“Um, in what world wouldn’t I wear under garments?” Dora asked, bewildered.
The entire room erupted with laughter.
Evie patted Dora’s arm and gave her a pitying look. “Give Dora a break, ladies. She’s a little on the straitlaced side. But with your help, we’ll loosen her up.” She gave Dora an exaggerated wink. “Now… who can we get to be her Rhett? Do we need to go recruit a hottie off the streets?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Myrtle said. “We’ve roped in Charles. He’s a doll. You’re gonna love him.”
“Excuse me,” a woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties said as she pushed her way through the small crowd that had formed around Dora. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her pencil skirt as her modest heels clattered on the rough wooden floor. Dora couldn’t help thinking she looked like a perfect replica of Nancy Reagan with a mix of old Hollywood and old money. “I thought I was going to be Scarlett. I already got the perfect shoes and told everyone on my Instagram page.”
“All three of them?” Flora asked as her lips twitched. Apparently there was no love lost between these women, Dora noted.
“Hey! I’m up to thirty now and I don’t want to disappoint my followers,” the woman insisted.
“Now, Karen. Just chill. You know Gertie was going to pick who would play Scarlett,” Myrtle said, her tone soothing as she rubbed her palm over the woman’s silk-clad arm. “And as much as I know you wanted to be Scarlett, I happen to know that Gertie was leaning toward someone who hasn’t had an AARP card for more than a decade.”
“I can be young,” Karen insisted. “That new night cream is doing wonders for my skin.”
Dora squinted at the woman. She did have nice skin. Her cheeks were rosy, and her makeup was flawless. She’d have to remember to ask the woman about her nightly regimen. If she looked half as good as Karen in her sixties, Dora would be thrilled.
“Oh, honey,” a sassy redhead in a low-cut dress called out from near the bar. “No matter how much plastic surgery you get, you’ll never trump youth. We need Dora to up our standing in the best of 2019 lists.”
Karen let out a shocked gasp and glared past everyone at the redhead. “I paid good money for these cheekbones.”
“I know you did, but next time maybe pay a little attention to the girls.” The redhead grasped her own breasts and pushed them up in a suggestive fashion. “You’d need an industrial pushup bra to compete with that young thing.” The redhead grinned at Dora and then ducked behind the bar and started grabbing champagne flutes.
“Don’t listen to her. It’s your knees that can’t take standing on the float for three hours,” Myrtle said. “Maybe if you’d already had that knee-replacement…”
“There is nothing wrong with sitting on a stool!” Karen practically shouted.
“You’re supposed to be tossing beads and dancing with Rhett,” Myrtle said, her tone gentle now. “Wouldn’t you rather be comfortable on one of the fainting couches? Being Scarlett is a lot of work.” Myrtle slipped her arm through Karen’s and tugged her back toward the bar where the redhead was filling the flutes with champagne.
“I think we need a glass of that,” Evie said, pointing to the bar. “I’ll be right back.”
Dora started to call after her friend but was interrupted when the group surrounded her and started fussing about how she should wear her wig and who was going to work on her dress so she’d look perfect for the big day a week later.
By the time Evie returned with the alcohol, Dora had been measured, groped, and scrutinized within an inch of her life.
“You look like you could use this,” Evie said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You have no idea.” Dora grabbed the glass and downed the contents in one gulp. Then she grabbed Evie’s and drank that, too.