Dollface: A Novel of the Roaring Twenties by Renée Rosen

at his beautiful body, his lips and eyes, and I knew I had it bad. “No one knows I’m seeing you.” I didn’t tell a soul, not even Evelyn. I was afraid she’d slip and say something to Izzy and that it would get back to Shep.
    It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of losing Shep, but rather, I was just afraid, period. I had no idea what Shep would do if he found out I was seeing someone else. And I did understand Tony’s concern. Tony may have been a tough guy who could take care of himself but still, Shep was a gangster.
    •   •   •
    A few nights later, Shep took me back to his apartment for the first time. Moonlight flooded in through the bay window, casting an ambient glow over the mahogany furniture, the Tiffany lamps, and the plush Persian carpets.
    “This is some place you have here, Shep. It’s beautiful.”
    “I’m glad you like it.”
    As if by magic, the Victrola cranked out a soft jazz number and the candles seemed to have lit themselves.
    Slowly Shep came over to me. I was breathing hard and standing motionless while he unbuttoned my dress, slipping it off my shoulders and down my hips.
    He reached for my hands, brought them to his lips. “You’re beautiful, Dollface.” Taking a step back, he studied my body, his eyes moving from my shoulders to my flat chest and down the length of my body. “You’ve got three-diamond legs.”
    I glanced down. “I have what?”
    “They’re rare.” He started at my ankles and slid his hand in the opening between my shins, making my insides tingle. “There’s one diamond.” His hand rose up to the opening above my knees. “There’s two.” And ever so slowly he inched his hand up higher, slipping his fingers through my thighs as I trembled. “And here’s diamond number three.”
    Then he kissed me and led me to his bedroom.
    Afterward I was quiet, staring at the ceiling, feeling a little sad, or maybe disappointed. Making love with Shep wasn’t what I’d been expecting. With Tony, he didn’t let up until I was dizzy and my ears were ringing and my legs were too weak for standing. But with Shep I hadn’t reached a climax. I kept waiting for it, but it never happened.
    He did hold me afterward. Oddly, with Shep, that part—the cuddling and the kissing—was in some ways just as satisfying.

A GANGSTER’S GIRL
    S aturday nights could have been tricky, but as luck would have it Tony had a standing poker game, and by ten o’clock, he was either broke, passed out or both. That freed me up to go out with Shep. No excuses, no explanations required.
    It was a damp rainy Saturday night. I had been seeing Shep again for almost six weeks when he took me to dinner with some of his friends at Legends down on Monroe and Dearborn. I’d passed by that restaurant hundreds of times, wondering what kind of people could afford to dine there, and now I was about to find out. The interior did not disappoint. There was a harp serenade as you walked inside and a fish tank, big as a bathtub, loaded with lobsters. The waiters all wore tuxedos and carried silver trays with folded monogrammed towels strung over their forearms. It was crowded when we arrived with customers waiting a good hour or more for a table.
    “You think you can fit us in?” Shep reached into his pocket and held out a fifty to the maître d’. “There’s six of us. We’re just waiting on the other girls.”
    “Of course, Mr. Green.” He smiled and bowed slightly.
    Was there anyone Shep couldn’t sway with money? I wasn’t sure if I found this trait of his annoying or incredibly sexy.
    “Good.” Shep tore the bill in two and slapped one half in the maître d’s palm. “You get the other half when we get the table.”
    Shep’s buddies busted out laughing but I was still shocked that he’d torn a fifty-dollar bill in two. Meanwhile the maître d’ made the people at the front table move, and a buxom woman eyed us, saying we had some nerve. Her companion whispered something that