held open a black curtain, split down the middle. “Welcome to Oz.”
Lily crept onto the astounding scene. Suited men and dolled-up women were sidled up to tables of cards, craps, and roulette. They held cocktail glasses and cigarettes on long black filters. Smoke rose from the corners of their mouths.
From reports of raids in the paper, Lily had learned a great deal about backroom gaming halls. She had just never envisioned stepping into one herself.
“You all right from here?” the hostess asked.
Lily intended to voice her thanks, but might have only nodded before the curtain dropped, leaving her on her own. She had to remind herself why she had come.
As she ventured through the room, dealers in bow ties and vests conducted the festivities. Cheers and laughter flowed in waves. Phones sat on a table near a wall chalked with betting odds. To the side, a bartender prepared drinks at his post.
While flapper fashions had largely disappeared from the street, viewed as too garish since the market crashed, rolled stockings and fringed dresses cut above the knee still flourished in this underground haven. Lily could have passed as a schoolmarm in comparison, yet that didn’t stop several men from leering.
It was difficult to imagine the Ellis she knew attracted to such a place.
Ironically, this was her last thought before she registered his familiar features. His hat at a jaunty angle, he stood at the head of a craps table, where he downed a swig of liquor. A waitress swooped in to relieve him of his glass as the surrounding players submitted their bets.
Ellis tucked a cigar stub into his mouth and scooped up the dice. From the corner of the table, a stylish woman called something to Ellis, prompting him to hold the dice out for her. She blew on his hand for luck, seductively enough to make Lily blush.
At last he rolled.
“Snake eyes!” declared the dealer. The crowd collectively groaned, and a cane-like stick was used to rake all the cash into a mound.
Lily had sacrificed so much, devoted such effort, to save every penny she earned. Her teeth clenched at the display of sheer flagrancy and waste.
Ellis lifted his gaze, passing right over her before cutting it back. He removed his cigar and stared as if doubting his own vision—who knew how many drinks he had consumed? Then a smile crossed his face, his delight undeniable. She had clearly become the only other person in the room.
And yet, this moment bore no resemblance to the reunions she had pictured.
He strode the full distance to where she stood, as she made no effort to meet him.
“Lily! How did… What are you doing here?” His blue eyes brightened, emanating with shades of the sincerity and warmth she actually remembered.
She worked to align her thoughts. “I was in town and heard you were here.” She was on the verge of opening her purse. She could simply hand over the letter. It was her primary reason for finding him, after all. But now…now there was more she wished to know.
“Is there a quieter place we could talk?”
He smiled wider, not catching the clip of her tone. “I’ll get my coat.”
• • •
The apartment building sat only three blocks away. On another day, with any other fellow, Lily would never have agreed to such an intimate setting. But Ellis was as eager to show her his new home as she was to gauge him further. She wanted to know just how far he had strayed from the man she knew. Or suspected she had known.
On account of the sprinkling rain, they had walked briskly from the Royal, providing little chance to speak until they arrived.
“I haven’t done much to the place yet,” he warned her, opening the door of his flat on the third floor. “Just moved in a couple weeks ago and been too busy to really jazz it up.”
She brushed raindrops from her hat and shoulders before following him inside, where he illuminated a standing lamp with a tug of its chain. After closing the door, he set his hat beside the phone on a small entry table. “Could I take your coat?”
“I’ll keep it on. Thank you.” She had no sense yet of how long she would stay.
He removed his own overcoat, doffing his suit jacket at the same time—a struggle due to the liquor, she guessed. “I know it’s not the best of neighborhoods,” he went on. “But it’s got a real kitchen and bedroom. Even its own bathroom