Diva (The Flappers) - By Jillian Larkin Page 0,8

Clara wanted to say. She hadn’t spoken to Marcus since Gloria’s debut at the Opera House weeks earlier. Marcus had already broken up with her by that point. Clara had thrown herself into writing her articles about Gloria and convincing herself that she wanted as little to do with Marcus as he did with her. That she was better off on her own. By the time Clara realized she’d been wrong, Marcus was already engaged.

She imagined telling her friends that she missed Marcus terribly, that she’d made a mistake … but what was the point of making herself even more depressed? Were her friends right—was this new girl just a rebound? But then why had he asked her to marry him? A rebound was a weeklong fling; marriage was forever. And Marcus had decided that he wanted to spend his forever with somebody else.

So really, what good was it to talk about it now?

“What’s done is done,” Clara announced. She gave them all a wicked smile, putting on her bravest front. “What we really need to talk about are those stiffs next door.”

Vicious grins appeared on her friends’ faces. “What did you have in mind?” Arthur asked.

Clara and her friends had come to the Roosevelt that evening solely to attend the event next door in the hotel’s finest ballroom: the Grand Ballroom. No one at that party would have to pretend to be clever. Their party was being thrown by the Algonquin Round Table—Franklin Pierce Adams, Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, and more of the most brilliant literary minds Manhattan had ever seen. There was even a rumor the Fitzgeralds were home from Paris and would make an appearance.

But instead of letting Clara’s crowd in, the bouncer had scoffed. “Only real press are allowed to attend this event, Miss Knowles. Not baloney spinners like you.”

Clara had flinched at that. So what if the Manhattanite was known more for its celebrity gossip than its hard-hitting journalism? She’d still done real, important work there.

Hadn’t she?

So they’d stormed off in a huff and crashed this less-than-classy party next door instead.

“Did you figure out a way to sneak in?” Julia asked now, casting a glance at the wall as though she could see right through it and into the exclusive world beyond.

“Why bring ourselves to the party,” Clara asked, “when we can bring the party to us?”

Moments later Clara, Coco, and Leelee were in the corridor, gathered around two servers who had been working the Round Table event. Clara had spied the men steering carts piled high with covered trays toward the hotel’s front entrance.

“What have you got there?” Clara asked with a sideways glance.

Both men raised their eyebrows. They looked Clara and her girlfriends up and down. Oh, this was going to be eggs in the coffee. “Just some food,” the blond one replied, bashful.

“We can see that, honey,” Coco purred. “She was wondering what kind of food.”

“Um,” replied the other, a brunet with glasses, “shrimp, cucumber sandwiches, assorted cheeses …”

“Oh, I love cheeses!” Leelee exclaimed with a giggle. “Especially when they’re assorted.”

“Sounds much tastier than what they’ve got in the Terrace Ballroom,” Clara said, working hard not to slur. “The Round Table party—now, that seems like a classy bash.”

The blond chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it, doll face. Pretty soon all the guests are heading downtown to ride a yacht around the Hudson. We were just taking these hors d’oeuvres out to the car so we can meet the captain at the dock before the guests arrive. Some life, am I right?”

Coco gave him her most beautiful smile. “That sounds completely jake! Our girl Leelee has never been on a yacht before. Have you, Lee?”

“What is that? Is that some kind of boat?” Leelee asked, her already large eyes even larger with feigned wonder.

“What would Leelee do,” Clara said, touching the blond lightly on his wrist, “to go for a ride on an actual boat!”

“We’ll never know,” Coco said sadly.

The two waiters looked at one another. “Actually, the captain’s an old buddy of mine,” the brunet said. “So maybe there’s a way to find out.…”

While Leelee followed the waiters to a convoy of Packards parked at the curb, Clara and Coco dashed back into the ballroom to gather the gang. They could only locate Julia and an amused Nellie.

“It’s even swankier than we thought!” Clara exclaimed. “There’s a yacht!”

“A yacht whose captain just happens to be a mutual friend of our new waiter friends!” Coco added.

Nellie grinned. “Fantastic! Maxie and Arthur