been. Marcus’s easy charm had quickly made him one of the most popular boys in Columbia’s freshman class. With a friend like him, the Barnard girls would overlook Lorraine’s Mafioso-ridden past in a heartbeat.
Looking at their photographs, Lorraine vowed that somehow she would get Marcus to forgive her. It wouldn’t be easy. Marcus had made it clear that he didn’t plan to let Lorraine explain herself any time soon. She’d have to find some other way to get into his good graces.
There was nothing Lorraine loved more than a challenge.
GLORIA
Sun-dazzled, Gloria reached for the glossy issue of Life magazine resting on the patio table beside her. At the last moment her hand latched on to her freshly mixed dirty martini instead.
She took a sip from the crystal glass and sighed. Even her family’s old mansion on Astor Street in Chicago paled in comparison to the luxury in which Forrest Hamilton lived on Long Island. A perfect turquoise pool filled the space in front of her, ringed by a white-marble-tiled patio. At the far edge of the patio, stairs led straight down to the beach of Long Island Sound, which was a deeper, more beautiful blue than the water of a pool could ever be.
To the right of Gloria’s reclining lawn chair was a sandy beach, where sunbathers lay under colorful umbrellas. And behind her was a broad white pavilion with wicker tables and chairs, where Forrest’s guests could grab a bit of shade after too much sun—it was unusually warm this fall. Still felt like summer. There was a bar in the pavilion, with a bartender who looked similar to but was an entirely different person from the other full-time bartender Forrest employed within his enormous villa. Gloria wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
The girls lounging on either side of Gloria were beautiful. They were both blondes, but one, who called herself Glitz, had nearly white dandelion-fluff hair, while the hair of the girl who called herself Glamour was a burnished gold. Glitz and Glamour wore scandalous Annette Kellerman swimsuits with plunging necklines and only tiny shorts to cover their tanned legs.
Gloria might have felt like a prude in her modest black swimsuit with its delicate overskirt, but on the other side of Glamour, Ruby Hayworth was sunbathing in an almost identical suit—only hers was sapphire blue. What was good enough for Ruby was good enough for her, Gloria decided.
Ruby let out a heavy sigh and put down the thin script she’d been reading. “Ugh, this musical Marty’s been bugging me to read is just horrible.”
“I don’t know why you don’t sign on to do Forrest’s musical already,” Glamour replied in her low, sultry voice. “You’d make him the happiest man on Long Island.”
“You wouldn’t have to do his musical to do that,” Glitz added with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows.
All four of them laughed.
A little embarrassed, Ruby just shook her head. “Marty says this is a very important time in my career. I have to consider all my options.” She dug through her canvas beach bag and frowned adorably. The girl probably even looked pretty when she cried. “Drat. I left the other script in my room, and I need to let Marty know what I think by tonight.” Ruby smoothed back her dark hair, still damp from a recent dip in the pool, and laced up her bathing slippers. “Enjoy the sun, ladies.”
Ruby made her way across the lawn, and Glamour and Glitz leaned close.
“I can’t believe the leash that husband of hers keeps her on,” Glitz observed, her lavender-blue eyes narrowed. “Forcing her to work on vacation! Wettest blanket I’ve ever met. And I’ve dated politicians,” she added dramatically. “I really don’t know what she sees in him.”
“A whole lot of green—that’s what Ruby sees in Marty,” Glamour said. She gulped down her third gin and tonic of the morning. “Her show needed financing and he needed a pretty dame. Bingo!”
“So she doesn’t love him?” Gloria asked. “She only married him for her career?” Gloria had only known the actress a few days but Ruby didn’t strike her as the gold-digging type.
“I should do that!” Glitz called out. “It’s as good a reason as any to shackle yourself to a man, eh, Glam?”
“Sure, but it only works if you have a career in the first place,” Glamour replied.
“Hey!” Glitz exclaimed with a pout. “I’m a model.”
“A model rube. You were in one magazine.”
“It sold out!”
“Only because those biddies from the Women’s Christian Temperance League bought all the