Or tonight, her. Rather than come in full-blown drag like I’d figured she would—I’d expected the Ziegfeld Follies getup, complete with a sparkly four-foot headpiece—Zelda Fitzperil had come as in a smart three-piece suit with no shirt beneath the three-button vest. A man dressed as a woman dressed as a man in a cheeky nose thumbing at gender as a whole. The V hit just beneath her impressive cleavage—a magical combination of contouring and creative taping. The second Zeke put on falsies, he became Zelda, and Zelda was always onstage with a bottomless bag of jokes and an, Oh, honey, for us all.
Z smiled at me with luscious red lips, extending her extra drink in my direction. “You look like you need this,” she said.
“Thank you,” I answered in relief as I took the longest pull of her old-fashioned that I could manage, grateful for the chill of the glass in my hand.
Betty smirked. “What’s got you all bothered?” One of her dark brows rose, and she elbowed Z in the ribs. “Look, she’s flustered.”
“You mean besides it being a thousand degrees in here?” I said.
Z shifted in my direction, hip first. “Who’s the boy, Stell?”
“What boy?” I asked innocently.
Both of them rolled their eyes, and a laugh busted out of Betty. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody. He looks like he could work on a railroad.”
“All the livelong dayyy,” Z sang. “He could lay tracks on me all night long.”
“Me too,” Betty said, inching up onto her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of him. “Pound some stakes.”
“Nine-inch steel.” Z looked over everyone’s heads at Levi. “How big do you think his hammer is?”
“Fucking sledgehammer, no doubt,” Betty said before donning an accusatory look. “How come you didn’t climb him like a gym rope?”
“If I’d stayed any longer, I would have.”
“It’s about time,” Z said, three words of straight attitude.
“I’ll drink to that.” I nodded and waved in return when another of our friends caught my eye.
“You’re due. When was the last time somebody snaked your pipes? Dex at Under the Sea? If I remember right, you almost got arrested for rubbing your parts all over each other in the Washington Square fountain.” Z shuddered. “I don’t know how you were so drunk as to have any parts in that fountain. Should have been arrested on a health violation.”
“I’ve been busy,” I answered lightly.
“Busy wondering why Dex is dating Elsie Richmond instead of you?” Z laid a look on me.
I gave her one right back. “It’s fine. I couldn’t give a good goddamn who Dex is seeing.”
“Then how come he’s not here tonight?”
I shrugged. “I sent him an invitation like I was supposed to. I don’t care if he comes.”
Z snorted a laugh. “You are so full of shit.”
“We have a silent agreement that he won’t show his stupid face. Anyway, I’ve been busy. You two know better than anyone why.”
“Busy partying,” Betty amended. “And if you can’t get laid partying, you’re doing it wrong.”
“So maybe I’ve been feeling a little picky,” I said.
They looked at each other for a protracted moment before breaking into laughter.
I pinched the back of Z’s arm and twisted until she yelped and slapped my hand. “Ow, bitch. If that leaves a bruise, I swear to God—”
“We’re just concerned about your well-being,” Betty said.
“And the well-being of your vagina,” Z added. “I get Dex fucked like a porn star, but that asshole is emotionally bankrupt. What you need is a good old-fashioned nailing, and who better than the big, beefy sledgehammer? Get yourself a rail job.” We must have looked confused because she added, “A rim job with more steel.”
“Maybe for you,” I said on a laugh. “No steel is getting near this rim. At least, not without a lot more booze than I’ve had tonight.”
“Amen.” Betty clinked her glass to mine in solidarity.
“Amateurs,” Z said into her crystal glass before taking a drink.
“Where’s Roman?” I asked, surveying the crowd for Z’s boyfriend.
“Who the fuck knows?” Z said with a wave of her hand. “He’ll pop back up when you least expect him. Like herpes but cuter.” Her eyes hung on something behind me, something that had her both appraising whatever she saw and amused by its approach. “Chugga-chugga choo-choo.”
A glance in the direction of Z’s gaze knocked the breath out of my lungs.
Because Levi was winding through the crowd toward me.
He was all broad shoulders and corded arms, his chest wide and waist narrow. Thick forearms dusted with dark hair led to very large hands, which were wrapped around two drinks. A tilted smile accompanied a look that set that fire in my belly again. Another droplet of sweat rolled down the valley of my spine, and I wasn’t entirely sure it had anything to do with the temperature of the room.
“He is gonna fuck you up,” Z said into my ear.
That’s what I’m afraid of, I thought.
Levi climbed the few steps to meet us, and I stepped back to make room in the circle. He took up so much space, not just for his daunting size, but for the gravity of him, pulling me toward him like a black hole. I wondered if that gravity affected everyone or just me.
“Couldn’t let you go until I knew you had a drink in your hand,” he said, his voice rumbling and low. His dark eyes shifted to the glass in my hand. “Looks like you found one after all.”
Z snatched the drink from my hand with a smile. “Actually, that’s mine.” When my brow furrowed, she said, “What? You’ve got another one, thanks to your big, hairy wolf.” She swiped his second drink, put it in my hand, then extended her elegant hand in Levi’s direction. “Zelda Fitzperil. Who are you, and what are you doing with Ash?”
Levi took her hand. “Call me Levi, and Ash and I went to Columbia together. He owed me a favor.”
“Must have been some favor,” Z cooed and released his hand.
“I’m Betty,” she said with a wave.
“Betty Vance.” Levi raised his glass. “Vic Vance’s daughter. Man, my dad had all the Hell’s Bells records. Gotta say, I’m a big fan.”
“I’ll let old Vic know.” To her credit, she tried not to sound bored.
“What a gentleman,” Z said, sliding closer to Levi. “He brought you a drink, Stella, and I’m almost positive it doesn’t have a roofie in it.”
“Who needs roofies when you’ve got a smile like this?” Levi joked, laying a smirky, smoldering look on Z.
Z slipped her arm into the hook of his. “I like him.”
Levi looked pleased with himself. “Works every time.”
Betty rolled her eyes. “Come on, Z. Let’s go find Roman.”
“He’s not a lost puppy, Betty, even if he is a dog. Ten bucks says he’s doing lines off a toilet seat.”
Betty threaded her arm through Z’s free one. “Well, let’s go make sure he doesn’t end up facedown in the shitter, shall we?”