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“So we’re in agreement. It goes down at 7.”
The man known only as Quarters simply grunted. After a moment, it was evident that any more substantive response that Crowbar was hoping for wasn’t coming.
He sighed. “I swear, you buncha palookas sometimes…”
“Ahem.”
Startled, both men suddenly looked over to see the bartender standing over them.
“Gentlemen, I am only going to ask once.”
* * CRASH * *
Rose grasped at her hat in surprise as shattering glass and tumbling bodies broke the quiet rhythm of her high heels clicking against the sidewalk. Two thugs in front of her picked themselves off the ground, fumbling with their clothing before rushing off in a panic.
Rose turned to face the recently broken window of the bar, only to be immediately struck by a vision in a black pantsuit. Perfectly coifed black hair enrobed her face, her dark skin shone through the jade accents around her shirt’s collar. Amber eyes seared the city streets with quiet fury after the men she’d thrown out. Carefully applied color adorned lips pursed into a stern expression, that only softened when she was content that the two men weren’t about to come back. Only after the tension left her arms did she notice Rose standing outside.
“I beg your pardon, miss,” she said, bowing her head slightly as she met Rose’s gaze.
Good heavens, her eyes were even more captivating up close. Rose blinked twice as she caught herself staring. “It’s no trouble,” she finally said. “A shame about the window, mind you.”
“It is not the first time that I have had to procure its replacement, nor do I expect that it will be the last,” she answered. “Have a lovely evening,” she said, retreating further into the bar.
As Rose watched the sway of the bartender’s hips, she was suddenly overcome with a craving for a quick drink. She looked at the marquee adorning the front of the small building. The Seamstress – Wine and Spirits. She smiled to herself as she reached for the front door.
The bustling mass of customers indicated to Rose that this was a well-known establishment. None of the patrons seemed at all perturbed by the scuffle that had just occurred, most seemed too engrossed in their own affairs. Or, given the display that Rose had just witnessed, it could be that they knew better than to get involved.
She simply had to meet this woman.
As fortune would have it, a vacant seat at the bar beckoned to her, and before the doorman could even ask for her coat, she was seated. Rose watched as the bartender finished preparing a cocktail for another patron. As she poured the mixture from the shaker, she caught Rose’s eye again.
“Oh, hello again,” she said, smiling for the first time since Rose had first seen her.
“Come here often?” Rose asked in what she hoped was a charming and flirtatious demeanor.
“Given that I am the proprietor of this particular establishment, I believe that it would be reasonable to assume that I do, indeed, come here often. Can I get you a drink?”
“Am I to assume, then, that you are the eponymous Seamstress? And I’ll take a glass of your house Sauvignon Blanc, if you please.”
“Certainly, on both counts. Kanaya Maryam, at your service,” she smiled as she reached for a bottle of wine behind her.
“Rose Lalonde. Charmed,” answered Rose. “Are altercations like the one I just witnessed common around here?”
“Not as common as they are known to occur elsewhere, but still more commonly than I would prefer,” Kanaya frowned as she poured the white wine.
“And just what did those two do to have summoned your swift and earnest wrath?”
Kanaya set the glass down in front of Rose. “This is strictly a peaceful place of business, and I have every intention of keeping it that way. Those men were conspiring to upset that peace.”
“Seems like an awful lot of fuss for two suits that were just talking,” said Rose, taking her first sip of the wine.
“It was not the first time I had encountered members of their organization.,” said Kanaya as she rested her hands on the bar. “They have been continually in pursuit of the reclamation of lost ground following the end of prohibition.”
“Organization, you say?”
“I believe that they call themselves ‘The Felt’.”
Roses eyebrows reflexively shot up.
Kanaya noticed this immediately. “I presume that you have heard of them?”
Rose opened her coat and began fishing for something in her inner pockets. “I happen to be in pursuit of some one who’s been on the run from them for weeks,” she stated.
It was Kanaya’s turn to lift her eyebrows. “Wait,” she said. “'In pursuit'?”
“I’ve been tracking him all over this city, but I still haven’t caught up with him.”
Kanaya blinked a few times. “You wouldn’t happen to be Rose Lalonde of the Lalonde and Co. Private Investigation Firm, would you?”
Rose smirked. “My reputation precedes me, but evidently not by much.” She finally withdrew a pad and pencil from her coat. “If there are any details of their plans you could share, this could help my investigation.”
Kanaya’s eyes suddenly sparkled. “The one in red mentioned meeting with several of their fellows at the docks at around seven o’clock,” she answered.
Rose finished her note and took the rest of her wine in one long drink. “Outstanding!” She emphatically placed the glass on the table and drew some cash from her pocket.
Kanaya collected the bills and noticed a business card among them.
“If you happen to remember anything else, we’ll be in touch,” said Rose. “And it was a delight to meet you.”
“Please,” said Kanaya, clutching the business card to her chest. “The pleasure was all mine.”
As Rose set off for the door, she stole one last glance at the beautiful bartender in her wake.
This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.
-end-