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her by the hand and pulled her out of the room and back downstairs.
    Julian raised an eyebrow. “Are you just going to let your date leave with the first woman with a penis she meets?”
    Wil was still hiding behind Julian. “Now, now, Jules. Not everyone can have the same appreciation of the anal arts that you do.” She peeked around him to see what Smokey Bender was doing now. “Holy Christ, is that a weasel he’s putting in there?”
    “It’s someone’s mink stole,” Violet explained flatly.
    Julian grimaced. “Does Smokey reimburse for the cleaning bills?”
    Violet wasn’t paying much attention anymore. “So what do you both think of Moxie?”
    “She’s charming.” Wil stole a look to ensure that D.B. had not spied her from across the room.
    “I’m sure her husband thinks so too,” Julian said.
    “Oh, darling,” Wil said. “You can’t possibly think that girl is married.”
    “No?”
    “Absolutely not. She just wanted to make sure Vi here didn’t cop a feel.”
    “That’s what I was thinking too,” Violet said. “Her husband is awfully convenient.”
    Julian raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you just don’t want to believe it.”
    She sighed in frustration as she idly watched Smokey Bender launch a cocktail wiener across the room and the crowd rapidly part to avoid it. “I don’t know, Jules. There’s something about her that fascinates me.”
    “Her jugs, perhaps?” he asked. “After all, what can be more fascinating than a pair of perfect jugs?”
    “No,” Wil said. “It’s her ass, isn’t it? Wait, no. Her gams. I vote for the gams.”
    “Besides all that,” Violet explained, “I feel drawn to her.”
    “And her jugs, ass, and gams,” Julian added glibly. “Understood.”
    “Well, sister,” Wil said. “You only have tonight to make it happen. So why are you standing here watching some fella push hors d’oeuvres out his fanny? Go find her.”
     
    *
     
    2:40 a.m.
     
    “Where the hell did she go?” Violet asked herself in frustration. She and Clitty had been through every room in the house at least once and didn’t see Moxie anywhere. Based on how many people were milling about, however, she wasn’t close to panicking. It would have been easy to miss her in the crowd.
    Wil approached her in a room where people were gathering to watch a couple have sex on the floor. “Hey, Jules seems to have found himself a human almond frappe—all nuts and foam.”
    “Is that so? Is he somewhere shamefully lying about how much money he makes?”
    Wil propped her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m fairly certain he can’t be saying too much, what with that fella’s dick in his mouth and all.”
    “I suppose that’s a good way to avoid awkward conversation.”
    “And I found your gal while I was at it,” Wil said.
    “Tell me she isn’t trapped under a cluster of fornicators.”
    “Even better than that,” she replied blithely. “She’s downstairs singing a duet with Lady Dulce La Boeuf.”
    Violet stared at her in disbelief, searching for some sign that she was putting her on. “Seriously?”
    “I wouldn’t miss it, if I were trying to seduce her.”
    “Point taken.” She snapped her fingers to call Clitty, who—along with Wil—fell in step behind her, and headed downstairs. As they rounded the corner at the foot of the stairs, first she heard Moxie, and then she actually saw her. She and Lady Dulce were standing near the pianist, who was playing a song that Violet had never heard before. Their harmony was impressive, even if the lyrics weren’t.
     
    Don’t dare call me a flapper.
    Fitzgerald’s not my man.
    I’m wallowing in the crapper,
    because my stocks are in the can.
    Now I want to survive,
    though I don’t mean to be crass.
    It looks like to stay alive
    I’ll have to peddle my ass!
     
    Can’t bear to stand in a breadline.
    Hoover’s just not my guy.
    I’m living off of moonshine,
    How else will I ever get by?
    Now I want to survive,
    and don’t