Chapter 1

Chicago was never bad from the beginning, no matter what my mother says. My engagement wasn't bad from the beginning either, no matter what my father says. Things have just taken a little bit of a hit since the crash of the stock market. Poor Roy has been slaving away all day and night in that awful mine just so we're able to eat.  But it’s not bad, we have a home and we have each other. The apartment isn’t much, just a small studio, the kitchen is no bigger than a closet, but we have somewhere to eat and sleep that’s all that matters.

Now that Roy has agreed to let me look for employment I’m feeling more optimistic about the future, like back when we first moved here three years ago. I was in Pennsylvania living with my parents, just turned twenty-one, and I was out with my friends when I met Roy Anderson, a welder at the time. He was everything I had ever dreamed a man of being; tall, big, strong, assertive, husband material. Within the two weeks he was staying there he convinced me to come back with him to Chicago where he had a big welding job lined up. So I did, I packed up, told my parents I loved them and followed the love of my life to Chicago. It was great the first year, we bought a beautiful apartment and Roy proposed but then the stock market crashed and life had to be reevaluated.

Don't matter, it will get back on track in no time, I just have to find a job. For about a week now every morning, I’ve been reading through the newspaper over a cup of coffee, my eyes scanning over multiple jobs, I’ve circled the ones that seemed like good possibilities; do you know how hard it is for women to find a job in 1929? You’re more likely to own a Mercedes-Benz at that rate. I’m keeping my chin up even if I’ve been hit with no after no, rejection after rejection because I can feel it, things will be looking up soon. Roy left for his late shift, his dinner packed in a metal pail, and I left for more job hunting.  It was January now, and the winter hasn't been the nicest to us, but I was well adjusted by this point. I pulled on my mittens, and light pink peacoat before trudging down the cold steps and into the crisp Chicago air.

Chicago was well on its way to being a very busy city but it still had a comfortable small town feel to it. Three years here now and I’m confident I know the best shops for clothing, food, and a decent shoe shine. Most of the businesses I was inquiring employment from the owners knew me but still couldn't supply me with a job. Excuse the language but it was utter bullshit, just because I was a woman didn't mean I didn't know how to work, I like working, there was only so many times you can clean a six hundred square foot apartment or do laundry. By the time I had finished another five inquires it was nearing nine o’clock in the evening and I was empty-handed and crushed. Now I’m cold, hungry, and still jobless and of course, I only have enough money in my wallet for a coffee. Roy will get paid tomorrow and I gave him all of our dinner to get him through the night. There was a small coffee shop around the corner called The Green Door Tavern. I’ve never been in it because it used to be a bar before the passing of prohibition. Tossing my paper in the trash I stuffed my hands in my packets and made my way to the coffee shop. The nightlife of Chicago was just as busy if not busier than the day time. All kinds of life walked along the sidewalks, businessmen, homeless men, prostitutes, mysterious men in trench coats asking me if I wanted to see some watches.

I felt my concern ease as I walked up cement steps into the warm shop, it clearly still looked like a bar, multiple round tables, a bar counter, there was a small stage in the back where four men were working around something, I’m guessing they’re musicians, maybe they’re performing tonight. That was one thing I learned about Chicago, music was a huge influence of the city and loved by all. So were cigarettes, and alcohol. Even cops weren't oblivious to it, alcohol was still being sold in the alleys, in basements of businesses, speakeasies were easy to find if you knew where to look. My eyes glanced over the interior of the shop, it wasn't old at all about ten years I believe the sign said outside, and it was much larger in the inside. It was fairly packed for a Friday, only spot available was at the bar which I didn't mind. I draped my coat along the back of the stool before carefully climbing up into it, my eyes glancing over the life of the bar, mostly men, it smelled of smoke which was a common smell throughout America. There were a few ladies that seemed to be serving drinks, other than that, it was men, some in suits with pockets watches, others looked like miners or welders. Blue collar men usually looked the same, dark clothing to hide stains, their sleeves shoved up to their elbows, dirty hands and some kind of a bowlers hat.  

“Coffee miss?” a rough voice asked behind my shoulder. I swivel my self around to look at the large bartender, well in this case coffee tender.

“Yes please,” I replied while reaching into my purse for my crumpled dollar. He quickly shook his bald head as he filled up a mug of hot back coffee.

“On the house, Sweetheart.” I couldn’t help but feel the pinch of guilt, the guilt of how grateful I was to not give up my last dollar.

“Thank you so much, Sir,” I replied while pulling the warm mug closer to my body.

“I’ve never seen you in here before,” he noted while picking up an old rag and began to clean some mugs. “After the crash, no new faces really come through here, all regulars.”

“I’m looking for a job,” I explained, blowing air on the steaming cup.

“Your man take it hard?” He asked, his head nodding towards my engagement ring.

“He was a welder,” I continued while twirling the small gold band around my finger. “He’s in the mines now, it’s enough to get by but still.” I looked up and smiled at the bartender. “I want to help where I can.”

“Well you picked a good night,” he explained, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a toothpick before he placed it between his teeth. “The Smooth Talking Daddies are here tonight.”

I glanced over my shoulder to the band that was getting set up on the stage, they looked like regular men I would see on the street. The young man on the drums barely looked old enough to be out this late, he had a very clean face, maybe he was too young to grow facial hair. His coat jacket was hanging up behind him leaving him in his button up and tweed vest, I could make out the cold chains of a pocket watch, he had the popular slicked back helmet hairstyle. Talking to him was an older gentleman who was leaning up again his bass, his thinning grey hair was short but noticeable under his black fedora. Across the stage in the back was an African American holding the shiniest trumpet I’ve ever seen. Louis Armstrong was so popular right now I wasn’t surprised to see him. Next to him was a more pain stricken looking man holding a saxophone. His hair was parted down the middle and greased down with no hair out of place, his eyes were hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses but I could make out the annoyance on his face as he listened to the man holding the guitar talk to him. All these men were wearing the same suits, they’re different from more business men’s suits. Darker, ironed to perfection, each of them had the noticeable gold chain for their locket watch, wrist cuff Kong’s, their shoes were so shiny I could probably see my reflection and they were all shaved. They were probably in the business of alcohol, judging by their looks.

“Hey, Kevin think you can fix me a shot!” A man shouted as he came bouncing down the steps towards the bar, earning the attention of the bar. He leaned himself up against the counter next to me where I couldn’t stop my eyes from running over him. He was tall, if I were to hop down from my seat he’d easily be two heads taller than me, he was thin but not lanky, he looked strong, his square jaw looks like it was made from iron. It was already noted by the pinstriped suit and his dark slicked-back hair was part of a questionable crowd that shouldn't be messed with. “And another cup of coffee for this pretty lady here.” He added while reaching into his pocket to pull out his money clip. I couldn't help myself when my eyebrows shot up when I saw the size of the wad of money in his hand. He quickly unraveled a five tossing it onto the counter.

“Sure Jimmy!” Kevin said, at the end of the bar, I looked over to see Kevin pouring a clear liquid into a small shot glass, how could he be doing that in public? If the police saw this whole place would be shut down. Then I watched as he began to pour another cup of coffee, which made me realize I was the pretty lady getting the second cup of coffee.

“Oh, no thank you!” I quickly said, while looking from Kevin up to my buyer. “I’ll be up all night.” My buyer released a deep laugh, his lips stretching into a smile to show his beautiful white smile.

“That’s the point, Sweetheart,” he chuckled, taking the shot glass from the counter, next to my fresh cup of coffee. He quickly raised the rim to his perfect lips before snapping his head back and letting the liquid slide down his throat. “Ahh,” he groaned and smiled down at me with a crooked smile, as he lowered the glass back down. “Wish me, luck babe.” He said before he spun off to the stage to join the other musicians. My head felt cloudy at the sudden bold conversation with this man. Jimmy was his name. Hmm. Jimmy smelt good, like cigarettes and honey. I shook my head quickly before crossing my legs and swiveling myself to look back at the stage. I watched as Jimmy tapped his foot before the whole stage erupted with music, it was loud, very loud, but good. The whole room, everyone, was bobbing their heads or tapping their feet along. And Jimmy was a sight to watch as he danced back and forth his hand rocking the mic stand around.

“Well now, friends, let me tell you about this cat that I once met,” he sang. My lord his voice was like butter with just the perfect amount of roughness. The sound sent a shiver down my spine causing me to sit up straighter. “Smooth talker with an export cigarette.” A smile broke on his lips as he made a V with his fingers to his mouth like he was smoking. “I don't believe I ever saw him without a cocktail in his hand.” My eyes couldn’t help themselves as I looked over his body as he spread his arms wide. “And no-one swings as hard to the big bad voodoo band!” The room was dancing by this point. I don’t know when I missed it but the floor that was once filled with green circular tables were moved to the edges of the room so people could dance. If it weren’t for my bar stool I wouldn’t have been able to see Jimmy over the tall men and skirts flying around in the room.

“Now he strolls through the city like a big ol' alley cat. With his pinstripe suit and a big bad voodoo hat. I don't believe I ever saw him without a kitten on his hand,” I felt my breath hitch when his dark eyes met mine before he gave me a wink and gripped his mic tighter to his mouth. “And no-one swings as hard to the big bad voodoo band!” Oh my gosh, I felt hot, was I blushing? It was probably the coffee. “Hey, Mr. pinstripe suit. Hey, Mr. hi-dee-hi-dee-ho.” he sang.

I’ve only been to a couple of performances in my life, mostly just local artist in Pennsylvania. Roy was never a fan of music, called it a joke, not a real job. A real job was when men got dirty. I always thought it was fun, the pure joy the musicians had on stage and the joy they gave people from their performance. Singers were always smooth talkers too, confident when they talk.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” Jimmy breathed into the mic, a large noticeable smile on his face. “This next song will go out to that beautiful gal sitting right over there,” he huffed, as he pointed down the way over to me. My cheeks ignited as I watched various men and women look back at me, “who graciously agreed to dance with me, boys lets jump it off!” he shouted as the band begin to swing into other loud and lively song. The crows seemed familiar with the song as they danced around the floor. “When you hit the dance floor you gotta be Jumpin’ Jack”

“Jump on in, jump with your baby!” the other boys sang into their mics. It reminded me of home, the school dances we would have and everyone would be singing and dancing on the floor till they were sweating buckets or passed out.

“Like a wild train rolling up on your track!” Jimmy sang into the mic before he abandoned his position and began to dance his way over to me. My eyes went wide as he bounced up in front of me to grab my hand.

“No no no!” I cried trying to pull back but he was stronger and quicker.

“Come on baby!” he laughed as he spun me out on the floor. I couldn't help but grip tighter to keep myself from flying off the floor, Jimmy quickly yanked me back into his arms and we were off. Rhythm and dancing was something I gained from my mother's side, I grew up learning tap and when I hit high school it was common for this kind of dancing. I almost couldn't help myself as I began to shake my hips and legs to the rhythm of the band, and Jimmy was dancing along, our moves in synch with one another.  Roy and I have never danced together, he always said he was too big to dance, I just think he thought it was funny and strange. I would secretly dance around the house while I cleaned. I found myself smiling as I swung my arms into the air and kicked my legs out behind me, I wish I had worn a looser skirt. The drums began to take over the room as the crowd shouted in unison with the beat. “Hey!” I was startled when Jimmys large hands gripped my hips tightly and quickly lifted me into the air, my hands quickly gripped his shoulders as he swung me to the left side of his body before lifting me again to swing me on his right. I could feel him drop his arm quickly to lock behind my knees before he dropped me and used the momentum to swing me behind him.  I thankfully landed gracefully on my feet once again as we finished out the song. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ear I didn't realize the music had ended till I noticed the crowd around us was clapping, they were clapping for us for our performance. I just danced with a complete stranger. I tried to ignore the heat in my cheeks as I straightened out my skirt, and smoothed down my hair while nodding at the audience.

“You are exquisite,” Jimmy whispered into my ear as he wrapped his arm around my waist, plastering me to his side. His voice and lips sent another shiver down my spine, making my knees wobble.

“Thank you,” I smiled politely before gently pushing away for my release. “I have to get going now.” I quickly began to make my way back to my abandoned coffee and purse, which thankfully was still in the same spot.

“You can't go now!” he cried, as he followed me to the bar. “The night’s just beginning.”

“My fiance will worry.” I lied, feeling the sudden guilt begin to eat at me.

“If he were really worried he wouldn't have let you out.” he pointed out, as I picked up my purse and began to shrug my coat back on. When I didn't answer immediately he quickly puzzled it together. “Oh, daddy doesn't know your gone.”

“Thank you for the coffee,” I mumbled before turning on my heel and quickly heading towards the door.

“Aww come on darling!” he cried as he followed me out the door to the cold night air. “You came all this way for something, not just a coffee at nine o’clock at night.” I quickly wrapped my arms around myself and kept on with my stride down the busy street of Chicago.

“I was looking for a job,” I admitted, while mentally smacking myself. “No one wants a women in their business.”

“I can get you a job,” he offered. I couldn't help it when I rolled my eyes and released a huff.

“No thank you.”

“You don't even know what it is darling.” he chucked, as he fell into step with me, his long legs easily kept up with mine.

“No.” I replied. “I know who you are.” I came to a sudden halt nearly knocking into his broad chest as he swiveled himself in front of me.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged. “Who am I?”

“You work for Scarn,” I replied. “With the suit, the hair, and I’m sure that nice Mercedes that was sitting outside is yours too.” I watched as his eyes took on a darker shade, and a wide smile spread across his lips.

“It don't matter how I make my money as long as I make it.” he replied. “Now if you’re interested in making some money, meet me at the Tavern tomorrow night at nine,” I bit the inside of my lip as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Wear something sexy.” With a quick kiss on my cheek he was turning around and walking back to the bar. “Thanks for the dance baby!”

Chapter 2

I went to bed hungry and ashamed, how could I let myself dance with a complete stranger; I just let him put his hands on me. I was more ashamed of how thrilled I felt, exhilarated, hot and bothered. I couldn't recall the last time I had that much fun and excitement go through me, or even the last time I danced, and he was an amazing dancer, we were in perfect sync.

Roy returned home early morning, drunk. I’m not surprised, he usually goes out right after work with his coworkers. He claims the alcohol makes it easier to sleep during the day. He slammed his money from work on the table and crashed down on the bed as I sipped my hot coffee. I usually ignore the lack of greeting but today it stings and I feel bitter. My eyes remained on the cash on the table, it looked like he spent a good portion on alcohol already, it wouldn't be enough for us to get through a week, well at least not both of us. Jimmy’s offer rang through my mind once more, I shouldn’t get wrapped up in the dangers of a speakeasy but the money motivated me and Jimmy intrigued me.

My day continued on like any other, I went down to the market for groceries, my brain racking any ideas of trying to get food to last. When I returned Roy was still passed out on the bed, his legs hanging off the side while he snored. I’ve got to get in the kitchen to make dinner to pack away for him before he wakes. My appetite was gone, my thoughts too busy fussing around the idea of going to the Green Door Tavern. I don't even know what the jobs entails. But it’s money that could make things not so difficult. I won’t have to do it forever, just need to save up some money till Roy can go back to being a welder. Okay Pam, are we doing this? We’re doing this.

Roy got up just around the time he needed to leave for work, he grumbled about his head throbbing and that he needed to go in to work early. I wasn't stupid, he was going to get a drink before work to ease his head. I remained silent as he grabbed his dinner, and left without even a kiss or goodbye. My cheek stung as I thought back to the kiss that Jimmy placed on my cheek, it was the first one I’ve had in months. I shook my mind of the thought and decided it’s time to get ready for work, I guess.

My closet was very small, maybe only a handful of outfits that I rotate through, I believe two of them were actually under two years old. My eyes ran over the pair of trousers I hide in the back, I haven't worn them since I moved here. They were a deep navy blue, that rose up beneath my breast, with wide legs that covered my feet. Rested on each side of my hip bones were three gold accented buttons. Trousers weren't frowned upon anymore, especially during the war when women were working in factories and such. I hesitantly pulled them from the closet along with a cream colored blouse. It was my favorite silk sailor blouse with short sleeves, with a drape tie in the front that started at the the low neckline. My nerves were churning as I got dressed, I haven't dressed this revealing since college, it was exciting. My hair never needed much work, I was graced with my mothers curly red hair, it hung below my shoulders sweeping across my collar bone. I applied poppy colored Besame lipstick to my lips and little to my cheeks. It was a Christmas present from my mother last year that I’m trying to make last. I quickly pulled on my coat and left the apartment, I’m afraid if I wait around too long I’ll change my mind.

I’ll probably be a bit early, but it was better than sitting around the apartment, I can get in a coffee to calm my nerves before I see Jimmy again. The streets are busier now that it’s Saturday, usually shows were going on, performances at the theaters. I hugged my coat tighter around me to keep from men calling out to me and picked up my pace a bit. The doors are propped open tonight letting the cool air into the stuffy bar, it’s packed with twice the amount of people than last night.  My eyes instantly went to the stage feeling a sting of disappointment when I saw it empty.

“You’re back,” Kevin noticed as I approached the only open spot in the place. I carefully shrugged out of my coat and draped it against the back of the chair. “You taking Jimmy up on that offer?” I was aware that some men around me had their eyes on my butt I kept my chin up.

“If he’ll have me, yes.”

“Oh, I’d love to have you baby.” A rough voice mumbled in my ear. I carefully turned myself till I was leaning back against the counter of the bar, while Jimmy towered over me, all too close to my body. He wore a deep blue plaid suit, similar to my pants, the gold chain of his pocket watch noticeable as he stood there with his hands in his pockets, he also made it no secret as his eyes ran down my body.  

“Jimmy,” I nodded.

“First order of business darling, don't call me Jimmy,” he smirked as my eyebrows knitted together. “Look at that as more of a stage name, if you will. Call me Jim.” Jim didn't suit him better. “And I never got the privilege of learning yours.”

“Pamela,” I replied. “Pam is okay.”

“Well Pam,” he murmured, as he grabbed my right hand, “I’m very glad you came back.” He lifted my hand to just a breath away from his lips. “And dressed up I see.” He placed a gentle kiss that sent shivers down my spine. I slowly looked up from my hand to see something different, just for a moment, something soft in his eyes, and then he winked at me. Ugh, I thought as I yanked my hand back just as he let out a small chuckle, “C’mon, let’s get you settled downstairs.”

I grabbed my jacket and followed Jim towards the back of the club. We headed down the iron stairs, pushing through a large metal door that opened up to what should have been a basement but by the looks of it, this was the speakeasy. Set up similar to upstairs but larger, there was a stage in the back were I noticed Jim’s band members were getting ready, down here they had booths along the wall so there was room for a large dance floor. There was bar in the back that actually looked like a bar with alcohol and liquor on shelves and various glasses. The bartender was skinny and kind of creepy looking, with red hair. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and buttoned over it he wore a black vest.

“What will I be doing exactly?” I asked, as we made our way up to the side of the bar.

“Waitressing, cocktailing, shot girl.” he replied, as he grabbed my coat from my arms and hung it up. “You’ll have to get rid of that,” he added, gesturing to my engagement ring on my finger. “The more you show, the more available you are, the better the tips.”

“But I’m not available.” I explained while I fumbled with the small band of metal on my finger.

“They don't know that,” he sighed, before reaching out to snatch the ring off of my finger, and quickly tucked it away into his coat ignoring my protest. “Tsk tsk. You'll thank me, now why don't we introduce you to the band.” I bit back the nasty response on my tongue and followed behind him toward the stage. “Boys this is Pam, be gentle.” The boys laughed in unison with their singer before the saxophone player stepped forward raising his hand quickly.

“Dwight Schrute.” he said, bluntly. My eyebrows knitted together as I gently placed my hand into his, I watched him as he shook it once then quickly dropped it.

“Yeah,” the drummer snickered as he pushed Dwight aside and stepped forward. “I’m Ryan nice to meet you,” he smiled, with a quick wink.

“I’m Darryl,” the darker skinned man who was holding the trumpet said, with a small nod. Next was the guitar player who stepped forward wearing a large white smile.

“Andrew Bernard, madam.” he greeted, with a sweeping bow.

“And that’s Creed.” Jim mumbled low in my ear while gesturing to the older gentleman in the corner holding a bass. “He’s.. different and we’ll leave it at that.” Jim gripped my shoulders and began to pull me away from the band members and back towards the bar. “Only job is to serve the nice people of this joint, tips are yours to keep, just keep the customer happy. Pretty simple, right?” he asked, while leaning across the counter to retrieve a black serving tray. “Just be careful some might get handsy.” he added, while placing the tray into my open hands. “Luck darling.” he said, before turning and leaving the basement abruptly.

Jim’s POV

Luck darling? What the hell was that Jim, do you suddenly not know how to act around pretty girls. But that was no pretty girl, she is the most beautiful women I have ever set my eyes on. The moment I saw her yesterday I was hooked, putting my hands on her was maybe too forward but worth the chance of touching her. Even over the skirt I could tell she was soft and delicate, my lips still burned thinking of the kiss I managed to place on her cheek last night. I’m surprised she didn't slap me. Then today she comes in wearing those pants, that just seemed to love her in all the right spots, and on her lips was a poppy colored lipstick. I couldn't help the twinge I felt in my chest as I thought back to my late grandmother, sweet Nana, she always had a beautiful garden of poppies. The way her pouty lips look in that color is really testing my control tonight. God dammit, Halpert. I stepped outside into the cold air placing a cigarette between my lips and lighting it up. Why the hell did I hire her? We don't even need a waitress. She’s going to be more trouble than this whole job is worth, Scarn will get antsy and want to meet her. Hopefully she’ll hate it and quit. I took a deep inhale letting the smoke and tobacco fill my lungs till I could feel my nerves die down. I’d be lying if I said her quitting wouldn't upset me. It’d be for the best, for sure. With another deep drag I pulled my watch out and checked the time.

“Shit,” it’s showtime. Flicking the cig down to the ground I quickly stamped it out before heading back inside. The coffee shop was now closed, all the tables empty as the real entertainment and party begins down stairs. I quickly made my way down the iron stairs, pushing the door open and entering the buzzing basement. There were about thirty to forty people already in their seats with drinks in their hands. My eyes automatically started scanning for her, she was practically glowing in the poorly lit room. She was easing her way through the room with a tray high in the air with a dozen or so drinks on it. She was a natural.

“Jimmy,” Ryan called, pulling my focus from my beautiful poppy flower. “You ready?”

“Oh yeah,” I replied, making my way to the stage I grabbed a full shot glass from a nearby table, I quickly shot it back feeling the edge die down. Rolling my shoulders back I approached my mic, pressing the cool metal to my lips. Andy was set up on a piano with the guitar strung up on his back, while Darryl, Dwight and Ryan took off with a dirty beat and Andy with a melody in the back.

“Well I’ve been living in sin for about a month. Something turn me ‘round, it’s something I just can't understand, the way I behave. Some people you can never save.” I tried my damndest to keep my eyes down but like a magnet they were attracted to a bright pair of green eyes. “In my right hand, I’ve got a girl in my ear,” I gave her a little wink, feeling thrilled as I saw a light pink reach her pale cheeks. “And in my left throwing back a beer. What can I say? Of me, you steer clear. When I driving down on Bourbon Street, yeah!” I closed my eyes and began to caress a hand down the side of the mic stand.  “Cause, every night we through this little soiree, gonna turn her head until she's mine, all mine.” My mind began to picture Pam’s perfect body lying before me on my bed, my sheets wrapped around her naked. “Every night I breed a new disaster, I might be right, I might be wrong try to get away and I will bring you right along, so!” I roughly shook my head to rid of the thought as I opened my eyes and looked over the smiling crowd. “Sit back, have a seat, sometimes salty, sometimes sweet hard to swallow, but fun to eat! You ain't never leaving Bourbon Street, come on!” I pulled away from the mic feeling that power and excitement I always felt when I perform pump through me. I was addicted to it, the thrill of performing.

“When I walk the street people step aside. Twirling my cane and smiling wide. Some would say I'm a carnal slave, I put my hands on what I crave.” Lifting my eyes I watched as Pam made her way through the crowd her hips swaying as she went. “I'm the mayor of this crazy town! Where the queens will party with the clown. Try to swim with me and you're bound to drown. Throw you a line while you're going down.” I stepped back letting my foot tap along with the rhythm before pulling the mic very close to my mouth, I lowered my voice an octave as we hit the final eerie bridge.

“Yeah, I know this street and I own this crowd, and my only companion is a lightning cloud. I seem real nice and easy to trust, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. I'm gonna lead you a path to self destruct. On this crazy train that I conduct.” I took a last deep breath my eyes boring holes into the back of Pam’s head as she laughed it up with Kevin. “And it's a one, two, three! Cuz’ every night we through this little soiree. Gonna turn her head until she’s mine, all mine. Every night I breed a new disaster I might be right, I might be wrong. Try to get away and I will bring you right along, so! Sit back, have a seat. Sometimes salty, sometimes sweet, hard to swallow, but fun to eat. You ain’t never leaving Bourbon Street!” There was only a beat of silence before the room erupted into applause. I released the mic from my vice like grip giving a small nod to the crowd, while turning back to the band and applauding them they do most of the work anyway. Hoping down from the stage I began to maneuver myself through the crowd, various hands clapping me on the back as I passed. My eyes were glued to their target, the gorgeous server leaning over the bar, brushing her over her shoulder revealing soft skin that was begging to be kissed.

“Looks like your fitting right in.” I said, as I stuck myself between her and a drunk sailor. I gave Kevin a quick nod sending him off to put me together a drink.

“Not that hard of a gig,” she replied, before she nodded towards the stage. “You really seem to enjoy that.” Kevin returned with my regular drink of choice, an Old Fashioned.

“I do.” I answered, before taking a big and bitter gulp.

“So why don't you pursue it?” she asked, her voice sounding of intrigue.

“I wouldn't enjoy it if I got paid for it.”

“You don't get paid for that?” Oh so naive, she hasn't pieced it together.

“Sweetheart, I own the place.” Technically. Scarn owns it I run it.

“Oh.” She replied, her eyebrows still knitting together with confusion. “Then how do you make money?”

“Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to.” I smirked. “Don't you have tables to check?” Anger immediately covered her curious face as she turned on her toes and marched off to a table. My eyes glued to her as usual.

“Are you always a dick to beautiful women?” Kevin asked me, as he polished a glass.

“She doesn't want to get mixed up with me Kev. You know that.” I mumbled, before swallowing the rest of my drink.

“Maybe she can get you out,” he added.

“No one can get  me out.”

Pam’s POV

I made it! I made it through my shift and it wasn't horrible, it was actually a lot of fun. I always assumed in the restaurant business you come across rude customers, I didn't even have one tonight. Everyone was happy, enjoying their drinks, the music, it was quite nice actually. I managed to have a few interesting conversations but the best part were the tips I made! I made total in tips eight dollars and thirty two cents, that’s plenty to feed me for the rest of the week if Roy were to use all of our money for alcohol. Oh god, Roy. He has no idea I’ve been out all night, or working, for that matter. I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, it was a quarter to five, I still had two hours till Roy was off, and five hours till church. Yes, after everything I still go to church, it would make my mother heartbroken if she knew I didn't go. It’s bad enough Roy and I aren’t married and still live together, we were supposed to marry as soon as we arrived in Chicago but there was always something, but there’s no way we could afford living here any other way. I’m sure it’ll happen soon, I hope.

“Alright miss, time for you to skedaddle.” Jim barked as he approached the bar where I was sitting. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes as I watched him hand me an envelope. 

“What’s this?” I asked, as I hesitantly grabbed it. 

“Paycheck.” Jim replied, his voice very dull, almost sounded annoyed. “We’ll be paying you every night, Thursday through Saturday.” Not opening the envelope I stuffed it on the inside of my coat and crossed my arms.

“Thank you.” I replied, curtly. “I’ll see you Thursday then.” I added, before walking past him towards the stairs. 

“Hey,” he called after me. I glanced over my shoulder watching him as he struggled for words, his hand deep in his pockets. “Be careful out there, Beesly.” All I did was nod, before making my way up the stairs and through the empty coffee shop and out into fresh air. I almost forgot what clean air tasted like, it was incredibly stuffy down there. I kept my jacket clung tightly around my body as I made my way down the couple of blocks towards my apartment. It was dangerous and illegal for me to be out this late, the law stated I couldn't work past six pm and no earlier than ten am.  The idea of getting caught didn't scare me, the excitement of being able to eat was coursing through me. I rushed up the stairs of my apartment, quickly unlocking the door and entering the small home. First order of business was hiding my money, I made my way to the kitchen reaching up to grab the small teal teapot from on top of the fridge. A christmas gift from my younger sister Penny, Roy hated tea called it a “lady drink.” I pulled out the envelope from the safety of my coat, I emptied the bills into my hand quickly counting them, my eyes grew wide at the amount of a hundred dollars in my fingers. I quickly disposed of the cash into the teapot gently placing it back on top of the fridge and walked back to the bedroom. Changing into my nightgown I crawled into my cold, squeaky bed placing my head on the pillow, feeling the grin on my face grow. I’ve never had this much money in my possession. It was exciting. Jim mentioned dressing up more, maybe I could go get new clothes after church. Roy would be sleeping, he’s hardly notice my absence, even if he were awake he wouldn't notice. 

Sleep eventually came to me, only an hour or so till I heard the from door creak open and Roy stumble in. The scent of alcohol and smoke quickly filled the room as he made his way into our apartment. I kept my eyes closed and turned onto my side as I listened to him mutter under his breath, the sound of his boots falling onto the ground echoed the room, before his weight pushed down the mattress. I remained still till I heard his breath begin to steady before I carefully crawled out of the bed. I was surprised I didn't feel more tired as I began to get ready for church, I still felt energized. I chose a light powder blue tea dress to wear along with my lighter hosiery and tan shoes. My hair still had most of its curl as I pinned back half of it out of my face, and applied only a little of makeup. God knows the women at church love to talk about you if you're wearing too much makeup. Once I was already I quietly took so of my money from it's hidden spot shoving it into my small purse before exiting the apartment. 

It was warmer out today, a slight breeze in the air, but the sun had finally come out intime to match my mood. The church I go to was the only church in Chicago that has managed to keep it’s doors open. It was small, maybe 50 people attend at a time, just rose of benches in the white cathedral, and a small podium for the minister. I enjoyed going, I wasn't particularly close with the big man upstairs, more of the hopeful atmosphere. I made my way up the concrete steps before taking a seat in the back, second row from the door. Most of the church was already filled, with couples and their children mostly. I kept to myself mostly. Women always looked at you sideways when you did things without your husband, while men looked at you like an uncared for women. I found both assumptions ridiculous, you don't need a man in order to do things, and I was capable of taking care of myself. 

“Mind if I we sit here?” a deep accented voice asked from the side. I lifted my eyes from the front to pear up at the stocky man looking down at me. He looked very familiar, like I’ve seen him on news papers, or his picture plastered somewhere, he was older, maybe in his late forties. He was wearing all black, and I mean all black. A three piece expensive looking suit, head to toe black, even the cane he was carrying was a shiny black. “Is that okay?” he asked again, pulling me from my staring. 

“Oh my gosh, yes. I apologize.” I mumbled quickly while sliding further down the bench to let the man sit. 

“Thanks darling.” he smiled, while leaning the cane up beside him and resting his hands on his lap. “How is it here?” he asked, once he was settled into the bench. “First time to this church.”

“Oh, um good.” I stumbled. “Quiet, the minister is polite, no singing.”

“Oh thank god,” he chuckled. “You don't want me singing.” he paused again, before extending his hand out to me. “Michael Scarn.” he announced, though I already knew in the back of my mind. He looked of mafia, and smelled of trouble. 

“Pamela Beesly.” I replied while placing my hand in his, watching as he raised it to his lips to place a quick peck on my knuckles.

“Beautiful name Pamela,” he smiled, his grin I noticed two gold crowns.

“Sorry I’m late boss,” a familiar voice announced from the isle. Looking up over Michael’s shoulder my eyes went wide as I took I in Jim hurrying up the isle, wearing the same suit I saw him in four hours ago. “Got held up at the- Pam?” His expression looked similar to how mine felt, surprise and worry wrapped into one as his eyes flicked between Michael and I. 

“Oh, you know each other?” Michael asked. 

“Uh yeah,” Jim said, before clearing his throat and putting a hand on his while using his other to point between me and him. “We uh-um she’s the new cocktail waitress I hired.” My eyes grew wide as I looked around me making sure no other women heard him, they’re vultures they’ll just suck up this information, share with their husbands tell Roy. 

“Oh this is Pamela?” Michael asked, before turning back to me with a smile. “I’ve heard wonderful things.”

“Thank you sir.” I mumbled, before crossing my legs. 

“Well take a set boy.” Michael commanded,  offing him to take a seat next to me. Oh I’m sure this looks great, me seated between two men. Mafia men no doubt. There wasn’t a soul in this room who didn’t know who these boys were. Jim settled into the seat next to me, clearly as uncomfortable as I was. Silence rang between us as the minister began the prayer. I lowered my head, unable to close my eyes as I felt Jim lean towards me, his cologne quickly filling my senses. 

“So your a bible thumper?” he whispered, the brush of his voice makes me shiver. 

“I do it for my mother.” I replied. 

“Uh, mommas girl.” he chuckled. “I like the dress.” He added. All I could do was blush and straighten up as the mass began. It was unbearable, sitting between the two men. Michael seemed really interested in what was happening, and what the minister was saying. Jim seemed more rigid, glancing over his shoulder at Michael, his eyes resting on my face occasionally. I couldn’t stop myself from fidgeting through out the hour, various pairs of eyes looked back as us, where we sat. Finally if came to an end and I was looking forward to leaving immediately. 

“How do you feel about lunch Pamela?” Michael asked, before I could get to my feet. “Well brunch, there’s is a very good cafe around the corner, amazing scones.” 

“Oh uh,” I paused thinking back to Roy he should be unconscious for a long while. “Sounds delightful.” 

“Lovely,” he smiled, while getting up letting me exit before him. With my head down I left the church, feeling my pulse pound behind my ear as I made my way down the steps. Jim walked past me heading to the Jim’s sleek Mercedes, I also noticed another suited man standing besides the Black Rolls Royce that was parked behind Jim. “You sit up front darling.” Michael said. Jim has a look of pain in his face as he opened the passenger door for me, I quickly slid in feeling my stomach turn as bystanders watched in awe. Michael slid in the back before Jim jogged sounds and took the driver seat. “So Pamela,” Michael began, as Jim pulled the car away from the curb. “What brought you to Chicago?”

“My fiance got a job here as a welder, till the market crashed.” I replied, trying to give as little detail as possible. 

“Ah,” he sighed. “Young love. What does he do now?”

“He’s in the mines.”

“Good man,” he commented. “Doing what it takes to provide for his lady.” My mind though back to the time where I went to bed hungry because he needed to support his drinking. Or nights he came home smelling of perfume and smoke. I wasn't dumb, I was aware of the women that lurked the mines and through the night, looking for needy men with money. “But you like to work?” 

“I do, I like being busy.” I said. It wasn't a total lie, I did enjoy the busy work. 

“That’s good to know,” he noted. “Women are really in the workforce, you know the stay at home cleaner and cookers of America. But you Pamela,” he paused. “You’ve got that fire about you.”

“Were here,” Jim said, breaking up the odd conversation, and leaving his side quickly to run and open my door. I eased myself out of the passenger seat watching as Michael and the mystery suit man walked up the steps to the cafe. Before I could follow Jim’s large had wrapped around the top of my arm pulling me to halt. A small gasp left my lips as he pressed his lips to my ear. “The less you say the better.” he whispered, before letting me go and escorting me towards the entrance of the cafe where Micahel was politely waiting, with a dark smile on his lips. A felt the little hairs on my neck rise as Jim’s words echoed through my mind. What was I getting myself into?

Brunch wasn't that bad, besides being a mob boss Michael was very polite, even enjoyable. He talked about his time as a child in Italy before his mother and father packed a small boat and sailed all the way here. They owned a pizzeria in New York, very Italian. Both passed away when we was twenty. So he packed his bags, sold the restaurant and moved to Chicago. He talked about his passion for coffee and how this motivated him to open the Green Tavern Coffee Shop. It was about five years ago when he gave it to Jim to run. There was no mention of his other jobs, or the trouble he causes.

“Alright,” Michael said as he got to his feet, tucking his wallet into his coat pocket. “I look forward to more time with you Pamela.” Michael smirked before he followed the other suit clad gentlemen to the black vehicle. “Jimmy see to it she get home safely.” 

“Right boss,” Jim replied by nodding his head. We both waited till Michaels car was out of view before I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. 

“I can walk home.” I said quietly, casting a gaze towards him. “I have a few errands to run.” I don't need a man that isn't my fiance accompanying me on clothes shopping. 

“Well I’m free for the rest of the day, I’m sure you could use some company.” He said, while shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes watching the road. “Besides if he finds out that I didn’t drive you home, it’ll be my head.” It was a joke but at the same time I’m sure the threat was very plausible. 

“Well actually,” I paused, feeling the familiar blush creep into my cheeks. “I was going to go clothes shopping.” I admitted. “You know, new job, new look.” I babbled. 

“I’m the perfect guy for that!” He laughed, I watched as he skillfully twirled the toothpick around his mouth with his tongue. “I know exactly what men want to see.”

“Seriously you don’t have to come.” I said, though a part of me really wanted the company. Next time I see him isn’t for a couple more days, and that’s while I’m working. 

“Nah, come on.” he ushered, placing his hand low on my back and pushing me along down the sidewalk. “There’s this italian boutique down the way, I got an in with the owner.” he smirked. The boutique wasn't far from the cafe, just a block or two down the road, and it was beautiful. Very itallian, vintage and foreign but beautiful. Hem lines seemed lower, skirts appeared shorter. “Trust me, you come to work in something along these lines, you’ll be swimming in money.” Jim whispered low in my ear as my eyes swept around the store. 

“Jimmy!” the older shop woman sang, her arms open wide as he pulled Jim into a tight embrace. “How’s my favorite singer!”

“Good, Mrs. Russo,” Jim laughed as he hugged the small women. I awkwardly stepped back feeling out of place of the intimate moment, they obviously have known one another for sometime, but she appeared quite older than him, in her fifties or sixties. 

“How many times do I gotta tell ya!” she laughed, while pulling back to smack Jim’s arm. “Call me Sofia! Now who is this gorgeous girl you;ve brought with ya?” she asked,a s her dark eyes gazed over me. “She’s too gorgeous for you Jimmy.”

“Tell em about it,” Jim laughed, as blush crept up the back of my neck. “This is Pamela, our new waitress at the Tavern.” 

“Hello,” I mumbled with a weak smile. I watched as Sofia’s eyes narrowed a bit as she took me in, it was obvious that the news wasn't something she liked hearing. 

“You taking care of her Jimmy?” she asked, her voice taking on a new tone of indication.

“Of course.” Jim replied, his voice low and assuring.

“You better,” she hissed, before a huge smile returned to her face. “How can I help ya sweetie? What do you need?” she asked, as she linked her arm with mine and pulled me deeper into the clothing store, I shot Jim a look over my shoulder his eyes had taken on that darker shade of green, the one when he was Jimmy and not Jim.

Jim’s POV

I watched as Sofia drag Pam towards the back of the store where I more sensual clothing waited. My fist was beginning to throb by how hard I was clenching it in mu fist, Sofia was wrong. Everyone involved with Michale gets hurt, or worse. Killed. I wouldn't have that happen, I’d give myself before a had was laid on Pam. That sounds appropriate, risk myself for a woman I’ve known for two days. I could already tell by Scarn’s church going, brunch having attitude he was wanting to still his talons deep in her. My skin was beginning to crawl at the thought of trouble, scamming, robbing that she could get into if she were to work directly for him. Pam was in the back of the store now, a smile on her face as Sofia put clothing after clothing into her arms. With huff I spun on my heel and walked out of the boutique suddenly in desperate need of fresh air. And a cigarette. Reaching into my coat I pulled out my silver container bumping one cigarette into the palm of my hand before placing the cutton butt in between my lips, then lighting it up with my gold lighter. My first gift from Scarn, when he first recruited me when I was sixteen. Told me no man is a man without a lighter.

I thought back to those days as an orphan stealing bread from the market while cleaning chimneys in exchange for clothes. Both my parents caught the tail end of the Yellow fever outbreak in New Orleans, so I packed my bag and headed North. Eventually I landed in Chicago, slept in ally’s, newspaper blankets. It was a very cold night when Scarn found me. A couple older men tried their hand at my hand made hut, I held my own till a knife was pulled out on me. I would've died in the streets if it weren't for him, took me back to his home off of 18th street, that was the first time in a year that I felt warm. He patched me up, and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. Be his right hand man and I would never have to beg again. I took it, like any hurt sixteen year old kid would. Ten years later, here I am, nice apartment on 16th street, nice car, all the money I could ask for and I get to sing as a hobby. But none of this is ever worth the work that is done in exchange. The drugs, weapons, alcohol, death, robbery, the list goes on. There is no place waiting for me in heaven, I have a first class ticket to hell, with Scarn driving the damn train. Dropping the cigarette to the ground I stubbed it out with the toe of my shoe before heading back into the boutique. Pam was standing at the counter with Sofia as her clothes got folded and inserted into a bag, both girls were smiling but I could tell by pams face she was uncomfortable. I’m sure she’s never spent this kind of money on clothes before. And she won't. I approached the counter, ignoring Pam;s gaze as she looked up at me, I’m sure trying to search my face for answers that I would never give up. 

“How much Sof?” I asked, reaching into my wallet and pulling out my money clip. 

“Thirty  bucks Jimmy,” she smiled, while extending her manicured hand out towards me. 

“Jim-” Pam started, but was quickly shot down by Sofia.

“Pammy, sweetheart,” she laughed. “A man offers to buy your clothes you hush.” Pam blushed as I handed her two twenties. 

“Thanks Sofia.” I replied, as I grabbed Pam’s bag and began to edge her out of the shop. 

“Any time Jimmy, take care of that girl!” she called as we left. We walked in silence back to the car, the only sound between us was our shoes against the payment. I was wrapped up in my own mind I almost didn't notice as she came to a halt in front of me, her small figure blocking the way as she looked up at me with a frown. 

“You’re not supposed to do that,” she suddenly snapped. “It’s not your job to pay for that, or take me to lunch and drive me home. None of that is your job.” My eyebrows furrowed for a moment as I took in her harsh words. 

“Don't you think I know that Pam?” I asked. “It should be your goddamn husbands job.” I retorted, before placing my hands down on my knees and lowering myself to her eye level, watching her green eyes bore into mine. “Well Pammy, where’s your fucking husband at.” I didn't need to be told that what I said was beyond harsh. The tears brimming her big eyes was the punch in the gut I needed to know that I was an asshole, and that I went way too far. 

“Thanks for the clothes.” she whispered, as she yanked the bag out of my hand and began to storm down the sidewalk, the opposite direction of my car. 

“Fuck,” I groaned as I lowered my head. Why do you have to be such a dick Hapert. Straightening up I glanced over my shoulder at her retreating figure, I can't have her walking home alone, the information would reach Scarn somehow. Groaning to myself once more I began to jog down the sidewalk towards my car, quickly I jumped in a revved it up before shooting down the street, just as her small frame disappeared around the corner. I speed my way down the street and around the corner before slowly crawling alongside her. Draping my arms along the back of the seat I leaned towards the passenger side window and shouted, “Get in Beesly!” But she continued to march on with her arms crossed, a frown on her face. “Please get in the car,” I tried, my voice softening as I tried to multitask between driving and begging her to get in the car. But she just continued to march on. “Come on Beesly, you’re going to make me say it?” Silence rang on. “Look, okay, I’m sorry. That was a fucked up thing to say and I shouldn't have said it. Now will you get your ass in the car before I get out and put you in.” she came to a sudden halt, causing me to slam on my breaks as she turned to face me, her arms crossed, noticeable tears remained on her face. 

“You wouldn't.” she pushed, holding her chin up high. 

“You wanna bet?” I asked, opening my hands open. I got nothing else going on, I could easily swing her over my shoulder and take her. I don't think I could take my hands off of her at that point. After a noticeable huff, and a moment of contemplating my threat she walked off the sidewalk and threw the door open before getting in the car. “Alright, where do you live?” I breathed, while pulling back out into the street. 

“12th and Main.” she replied, while fidgeting with her hands. Silence rang on as I made my way to her apartment, part of me wanted to take back routes, not in any hurry of getting her home, to a man who obviously doesn't love her. None, of your business Halpert. “Can I ask for a favor?” she said suddenly. Of course.

“Yeah,” I replied smoothly. 

“Can you take these to the bar?” she asked, gesturing to the bag of clothes. “I live in a studio so I don't have the space for them.” she lied. She didn't want her fiance to see them, to know what she’s been up to. 

“Yeah, I can do that Beesly.” I replied, as I can to a slow stop at the front of her apartment.