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!”