Chapter Text
The Tip-Top Club was his. So it seemed fitting to pull directly in front of it to announce his arrival. Valets scurried about as Thomas stepped out of the coupe roadster, and he tossed the keys to his favorite one.
“Give her the usual treatment, Scott,” he instructed. The valet nodded and set about to his task to shine up the brand new 1947 white Jaguar, one of the only ones in town. Mr. Hiddleston took the care of his vehicle very seriously.
“Yes, sir, right away.” Scott hopped in the driver’s seat and pulled the car around to begin his tasks.
Thomas had chosen this evening as it was the debut performance of a new singer, Ella Craven. He made it a point to be aware of the goings-on in his legitimate businesses, having to depend on them to act as cover for his…not so savory business dealings. It was easy to launder money when liquor flowed like water.
The hostess greeted him immediately at the door and led him to his reserved table, front row, just off center. Thomas had been informed his new singer was quite easy on the eyes, a judgment he liked to hear. And seeing as this was his club, he would see to it personally. The waitress brought him his usual, a Jameson on the rocks with a glass of water.
~~~
Ella stood behind the curtain, ready for her first number. It was a duet with one of the established male singers of the club, James. A duet with him was the best way to usher her in, the club manager believed. And she was grateful she wouldn’t be alone. She took a deep breath as the emcee announced her name and the trumpet began. The curtain pulled back before her. The spotlight was already hot on her face.
~~~
And there she bloody was. Her dark red dress hugged her curves, gliding up and over her breasts. Her long dark hair was pulled to one side and curled impossibly. Her fair skin was free of any flaws, and her full lips painted with a daring shade of red. Thomas clenched his jaw, processing the vision on stage. Whoever had made the decision to bring her on was certainly due for a bonus.
The whistles and hollers of the club patrons, mostly male, could be heard over the small orchestra. Doing her best to keep her composure, she raised her eyes to the spotlight, but not before searching out the elusive Mr. Hiddleston she had heard so much about. And there he was- front row, almost directly in front of her. There was no mistaking him. His legs splayed out from under the table, his long fingers wrapped around a tumbler of amber-colored liquor. Ella watched him look her up and down slowly, like he was minutes away from devouring her whole. He licked his lips and a shudder ran through her.
Ella froze looking at him. His blue eyes pierced her. They threatened to go right through her. She wasn’t sure how, but she managed to get the lyrics out.
Summer time,
And the living is easy
Fish are jumping
And the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy’s rich
And your Ma is good looking
So hush little baby,
Don’t you cry.
As her verse ended, she avoided his gaze as long as she could. Looking over to James as he sang, vamping it up for the audience. Ella closed her eyes and swayed her hips to the music. She could feel Mr. Hiddleston’s eyes on her, willing her to turn around to him. But she avoided him again. Her second verse began before too long, luckily.
As the song finished, Ella and James bowed to the audience, then to each other. He took her hand and kissed her fingers before walking off stage, leaving her for her follow-up solo number. She felt exposed and more vulnerable as she took her place center stage than she ever had on any stage. It had nothing to do with experience, for she had leagues of it. No, it had a great deal to do with her most rapt audience member.
Thomas had a hard time focusing on her actual performance as she began. He was too busy staring at her lips, watching them wrap around her words as she began singing. The piano brought her in slowly.
I look and stare so deep in your eyes
I touch on you more and more every time
When you leave I’m begging you not to go
Call your name two, three times in a row
Such a funny thing for me to try to explain
How I’m feeling in my pride is the one to blame
‘Cause I know I don’t understand
Just how your love can do what no one else can
As the string section dropped, she wrapped her hands around the microphone stand.
Got me looking so crazy right now
Your love’s got me looking so crazy right now
Got me looking so crazy right now
Your touch got me looking so crazy right now
Got me hoping you’ll page me right now
Your kiss got me hoping you’ll save me right now
Looking so crazy in love
Got me looking
Got me looking so crazy in love
How she got through the rest of the performance was beyond her because of what happened next. She looked down and caught Mr. Hiddleston’s eyes. Only this time they wouldn’t let go. The lyrics fell out of her mouth on their own accord, only because of all her rehearsal. Ella sang the second verse directly to Mr. Hiddleston, and watched as he shifted in his seat, his eyes growing darker and his jaw clenching.
Ella drew her performance to a close as best she could, her sultry ending drawing out her last breath. The entire room applauded and shouted to her. One patron yelled out, “I’ll make you go crazy, baby!” She blushed a deep red, and Thomas cut his eyes to the vulgar man. His thoughts were interrupted when the club manager came to his table.
“So Mr. Hiddleston, what do you think of our new performer? She certainly is a hit with the other lads, eh?” Christian asked with a smile. Thomas turned his head to address him, but pointed to the stage. His jaw set and his nostrils flared.
“You are to see to it that Miss Craven is sent to my office the moment she makes it off that stage. I want to speak with her immediately,” he told his manager.
Christian popped up from his spot beside Thomas and nodded. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll get right on it!”
Ella watched the exchange from her spot and shuddered when Mr. Hiddleston pointed at her. It was clear something about her performance upset him. She was suddenly terrified at the consequence- she’d only just been hired, and was desperate to keep this job. Singing professionally was one of her dreams, and to finally have a break like this was one come true.
She stepped off the stage for her scheduled break and almost ran smack into Christian. He looked frazzled.
“You had better get yourself to Mr. Hiddleston’s office, as quickly as possible, Ella. He asked for you specifically, and he is anything but the patient type,” he warned her.
Her mouth ran dry and her stomach dropped.
“What? Why? I don’t understand!”
“Just clean yourself up and get into his office. This is not the moment to be wasting time!” Christian fussed at her. He knew too well what happened to those who didn’t maintain Mr. Hiddleston’s punctuality. Ella ran to her dressing room to freshen up. Terrified, she reapplied her lipstick with shaking hands. She nearly dropped her powder on the floor. She pushed down the tears. Ella did not want her first and possibly last interaction with her new boss to be marked with memories of her blubbering. Catching her breath, she smoothed her dress back down and headed out the door. The one with her name on it.
She took small, shakey steps in the direction of Mr. Hiddleston’s office. The light glowed from the slit underneath. A few more steps and she reached out to turn the handle. But her fear took over before she acted, and knocked gently. A deep voice from inside the office answered, “Come in, Miss Craven.”
Ella could have died on the spot. Her heart raced as she turned the knob, the bile in her stomach building and threatening to choke her. She pushed the door open to find her new boss relaxed in his chair. His fingers templed together, one leg crossed onto the other knee. His blue eyes boring into her.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Hiddleston?” she asked with apprehension as she stepped into the room.
“Yes, I did. Close the door, Miss Craven.”
Ella slid out of the entry and leaned against the back of the door. The lock clicked behind her. It was the loudest sound in the room. Thomas stood from his chair and moved to the front of the desk. He leaned on the corner and motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs across from him. Ella swallowed hard before moving further into the office to follow his direction. Her eyes traced the path of his long fingers to the plush chair in front of him. As she moved closer, his eyes burned a little more than before. She walked directly in front of him as she moved to her seat.
She smelled of lavender and a hint of whiskey.
Pre-show nerves, perhaps, Thomas thought.
“That was quite a performance this evening,” he began.
“Oh…thank you, sir.”
“How long have you been performing?”
“Since I was a child. I-I used to sing for my father’s battalion.”
Thomas was intrigued. “Oh? Your father is in the military?”
“Was,” Ella said softly. “He…he was a bomber in the Royal Air Force. One day he was sent on a mission to Dresden. And he simply…never flew back.”
Ella’s face belied her true emotions. She’d learned to tell the tales of her father stoically, not really wanting to call attention to it. It broke her heart when he was declared “Killed In Action.” At first she refused to believe it. But when he didn’t come back with so many of the other soldiers, she knew it had to be so.
Thomas paused. He was well aware of the sacrifices paid by men like Ella’s father. How well aware may have surprised more than a few- Thomas used a good deal of the money he made in his club to support the war effort.
He reached out and cupped Ella’s chin, gently pulling her face up. “I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Craven.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“I must ask though. What brings you to my club? Surely you’re able to take advantage of his pension, yes? Why would you want to sing for rowdy gentlemen like those you just saw earlier?”
Ella swallowed sharply. “I used to sing for my father. It reminds me of him when I’m on stage, and I think keeps a part of him alive. I want to do what I can to keep him with me, sir.”
She wasn’t just answering his questions. She was making her case to stay. Her panic had lessened, but hadn’t gone away completely. In a bold move, she blurted out,
“Please sir, I’m so sorry for my bold behavior onstage this evening. It’ll never happen again, I give you my word! I don’t know what got into me, I’m not that kind of girl!”
Thomas looked over Ella’s face. Her nerves and fear were written all over it. It was clear she wasn’t reading his intentions during this meeting. But he would certainly clue her in. He chuckled low in his chest as he watched hers heave rapidly.
“Oh, Miss Craven…I rather enjoyed your performance. I intend to see many more of them on my stage.”
“So…you’re not-“
“Firing you? My girl, no. You don’t come to own the most successful club in London making idiotic decisions like letting go one of your finest singers.”
Ella was able to breathe at the sound of those words. Her job was safe.
“Thank you so much, sir, you don’t know what this means to me. Truly.”
Thomas looked her up and down one more time. She was even more striking up close, her ivory skin in stark contrast to her dark hair and hazel eyes. Her dress hugged her in all the right places as she sat on the edge of her chair. No, he was certainly not letting her go anytime soon. He held out his hand and she placed her slim one in it. He brought it to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. A moment passed where neither said anything.
The silence was broken.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Uh- a drink, sir?”
“Yes. You must be parched after singing. And we need to discuss your future here at Tip Top. Let’s have a drink to your success,” Thomas convinced her. He stood from the desk and stepped to his private bar. Pulling down a bottle, he watched Ella in the mirrored back.
No, little lamb, you aren’t going anywhere. I have plans for you. And I intend to act upon every one of them…