Free Persuasive Lips by Sherry Silver Page A

. Always. Now what is it that ya need?”
    Chloe paced the room. As she passed by the wobbly-legged desk, she b r ushed against an old tin of pennies, knocking it over. They tinkled like a gentle metallic waterfall puddling o n the har d wood floor. The two women bumped heads as they squatted to pick up the coins.
    “ Can you get my paycheck from the Bureau next Friday? And deposit it in my checking a ccount? I’ll call in on Monday m orning a n d tell them…oh, something!”
    “ How ‘bout that your sister’s b a by has come early and ya have to go to Balt i more to help out with her old e r ones?”
    Chloe’s stomach felt like it jumped to h e r throat. She knew she h a d to keep up the charade f o r Mrs. Gr o gan of having a sister. “No! Not that! I’ll tell them my Momma took ill an d I have to go and look after her.” Chloe reached the last two pennies and plunked them into the can.
    Mrs. Grogan put a stubby finger on h e r fleshy cheek and b e gan ta p ping. “But where will ya go? To make a new beginning. Hollywood? New York? Io w a? No, not Iowa…” Mrs. Grogan clambered to her feet. “I know! Miami Beach!”
    “ Miami Beach?”
    “ Yes darlin’, of course Miami Beach. It’s eighty degr e es down there now don’t ya know. I’ll c all Paddy a n d let him know to exp e ct ya. He’s my late husband’s cousin. He owns a bakery, finest in southern Florida. He rents rooms out over top of the place. I’ll make sure he has a vacancy and if he doe s n’t, then he’ll just have to make one.”
    Chloe sat cross-legg e d on the floor, adjusting her robe. “Don’t you r e ad the newspaper, Mrs. G? The beach has been c ommande e red by the Army Air Corps for their boot camp. The hotels are being used as barrac k s, for heaven’s sake.” She rattl e d the pennie s , staring into the can.
    Faint rays of sunshine broke through the vicious storm clouds in Chloe’s mind. Miami Bea c h. Warmth, yes, oh to be warm again. Bakery, y um. But soldiers ever yw here? How depressing. Wait…sol d iers everyw h ere, abo u t to be sent off to war…scared and lonely men.
    Chloe stretched to reach the desk and shoved the tin can on top. She pulled herself up. “Yes! Mrs. Grogan, Miami Beach sounds…perfect. “
    The landl a dy plopped Chloe’s suitcase up onto the bed. She gra b bed an armload of clothes from the closet and tossed them o n the quilt. Removing the first dress from its hanger, she shook it out and rolled it into a tight cylin d er. “Ya get less wrink l es this way darlin’. I r e ad it in a m agazine don’t ya know. “
    As Chloe touched up her bruised face with pancake and rouge, the Andrews Sisters’ snappy song, “Boogie W oogie Bugle Boy” , drifted in from down the hall. She coughed while smacking a powder puff all over her forehead. None of this happened. I don’t exist. I ’ll just disa p pear into pa r a dise and e verything w ill be a ll r i g h t again. She turned to Mrs. Grogan. “How do I look?”
    “ I shoulda married Max Factor. The man is a genius don’t ya know. Ya ’ d nev e r guess what happ e ned tonight. Don’t fo r get your lipstick darlin’, and you’re good enough to dance at the White House.” S h e hung the empty hangers on the wooden closet rod. “I’ll leave ya to dress, dear, and I’ll go call ol’ Paddy. And then, when he says yes, I’ll order ya a cab.”
    “ The trains do run all night, don ’ t they?”
    “ Yes darlin’. Now you get ready quick and be on your way. “
    When Mr s . Grogan s tepped into the hallway, she hollered, “Girls, ya turn that racket off. I don’t care if ya don’t have your nursing classes tomorrow. We have rules in this house.”
    Chloe winced as she painted her scabbed l ips a deep wine color. Her fingers got caught in a snarl as she combed t h rough the carrot-colored strands of her hair. Satisfied, she packed her round makeup trunk.
    Chloe emptied out her desk drawer, packi n g her birth and baptismal