|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 0:21:04 GMT -7
Ideals are peaceful. History is violent - David Ayer . . . James Barnes was first introduced to life in the mafia almost by accident. After the stock market crashed in '29, everyone in the country was hurting. It wasn't so much an issue of pinching pockets and rationing expenses, but an overwhelming realization that someone was making a real living if they had two cents to rub together for luck. Between Barnes' parents, they were pulling ten dollars a week, if they were lucky. And they were rarely lucky. No one was soliciting a two-bit lawyer like his dad when they could barely afford daily bread, and each month the school cut his mother's salary more and more. Still, they were never as worse off as Sarah Rogers and her boy, cause no one was hiring a single Irish mother like her. In the summer of 1931, Barnes got his first, real job; as real as any job an eleven-year old could find. He'd station himself at the cabstand across the street from his family's little apartment on Franklin, and wave down taxis for those who could afford not to walk. He'd get tipped a penny, which always went straight to buying groceries or, when he could sneak it, a piece of candy for him and Steve. He never made much or did much, other than kick rocks and run his throat raw, but once in a while he'd get a visitor at his cabstand. And once in a while, he'd see them. At first, he had no idea who these towering giants were; in their long, black coats and tipped hats. But they fascinated him. They weren't like anyone else in his neighborhood. He'd catch sight of glittering rings and jewel-studded belt buckles and thick gold wrist bands holding paper-thin platinum watches. They'd wear silk suits in the morning, and suede coats in the evening, and they always tipped him a little extra with a wink. As a poor, eleven-year old, James wanted to be just like them. He started tucking his mom's nice handkerchiefs into the breast pocket of his hand-me-down shirts, and he'd tip his cap just so to the side, and he'd try to square his shoulders the same way these powerful, wealthy men did. He'd tell Steve all about them, but he quickly learned not to say anything around his parents. "They're bums," His father would yell, jabbing a finger at articles in the newspaper about violence and gambling in the streets. "You're gonna get in trouble!" But nothing his father ever said stopped him from wanting to be one of those guys. And nothing ever could. . . . 1946. Brooklyn. The swing band plays long and loud upon the brightly lit stage of The Pandemonium; the beat vibrating across the dark, glossy floorboards and stirring the liquor in their glasses. The club is packed and smokey, much like any Friday night. Ladies drape themselves across the red velvet seats, laughing soundlessly to the coy pursuits of admirers. Those with liquid courage already bubbling through their veins take to the dancefloor; swinging back and forth in each others arms to the crooning of the torch singer. She sings about money and whiskey and love, all the things Scott Argent sells at his fully stocked bar. He watches from the balcony above the stage, an expensive glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other. His white tuxedo nearly glows in the reflection of the stage lights, but no one notices him or his ice blue stare. He puffs on his cigar absent-mindedly, leaving a peppery taste in his mouth. "Sir." A man in black speaks as he approaches from the left. Scott doesn't reply or shift his gaze from the crowds below. Smoke circles dance around his head as he waits. "Don Giamatti requests your presence." The bodyguard informs, hand crossing behind his back formally. Scott taps his cigar on the banister, loosening ash, and inhales deeply through his nostrils. "Have a bottle of red wine on the table by the time I get there. Giamatti's favorite." He instructs, setting his own glass down long enough to smooth his white jacket. "Yes, sir." The bodyguard replies and swiftly turns away, disappearing back down the stairs before Scott lifts his glass once more. He takes one final glance around the room, spotting the robust Italian reserving a private corner table just beneath the golden lights, before he turns away from the banister and makes his way down from the balcony. He discards his cigar and his glass and buttons his jacket smoothly as he crosses the room. "Don Giamatti." Scott smiles at the man like he's an old friend, rather than a shareholder. Giamatti is wearing a white tie with his grey, pinstripe suit, but it does nothing to make him look any less huge. "Scotty." The Italian man replies, throwing his hands out wide in greeting. He doesn't rise from his seat, and Scott didn't expect him too. Not with two beautiful young women sitting on either side of him, glasses of red wine clutched in their skinny hands. "Looks like we're doin' well tonight." Giamatti tells him approvingly, hands settling back down onto the shoulders of his guests. "We always do." Scott replies curtly. "Have a seat, have a seat." Giamatti waves his hand towards an empty chair like it's his club. Scott takes the offer nonetheless, and sits in the red loveseat. His bodyguard hovers nearby, but Scott doesn't give him a second glance. "Where's that daughter of yours? I half expected to see her on that stage tonight." Giamatti smiles like he's enjoying his own private joke. Scott leans back in his seat and crosses one leg over the other. "She's not up to any trouble, I hope." "No more than usual." Scott replies, giving a tight smile. "She's around here somewhere." "Well it's probably for the best." Giamatti shrugs a little. "A young lady like her doesn't need to hear our business." "What about them?" Scott asks, tipping his chin pointedly towards the two young women hugging the Don's sides. "You have a point there, Scotty. Why don't you two go freshen up." Giamatti shoos the pair, but not before giving each a ripe smack on the ass. Scott watches them depart before resettling his gaze upon Giamatti's round, red face. The Italian taps out a cigarette and places it onto his lips, only remembering to offer one to Scott at the last second. Scott shakes his head silently, and the Don shoves the pack of smokes back into the inside of his jacket. "Now, where were we?"
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 15:44:15 GMT -7
Brown eyes looked around the room as she sat at the bar. Her long black hair pinned up at the back of her head, there was not a spot of dust on her dress. This was the life that she got for being the daughter of the owner of this club. Perfect clothes, hair and drinks on the house all night. What more could she ask for?
"Are you listening, Tessa?" a female voice huffed to her ear. Lu-Ann was sure that Tess was always in her own world when it came to being in this club. Well would could blame her, the girls life was perfection. Her father owned this club and it was the hottest place in town right now.
Tessa, aka Teresa, Argent moved her eyes from the dance-floor, where couples were slowly dancing to the singer on the stage, and to the blonde sat next to her. "Yes" she huffed out before grabbing her cigarette packet and taking one out. "You were talking about Brad" she nodded and looked around for a match to light the white stick in her mouth when she found one lighting the cigarette. One of her many admirers. She winked at the guy who then turned into a bumbling mess and knocked over his drink, before she put her eyes back on her friend who was going on about the boy who had asked her out the next night.
"I was asking if I should go out with Brad tomorrow night" Lu-Ann muttered and then moved her own dark blue eyes around the many admirers that Tessa seemed to have every night. She guessed it was something to do with the fact that every guy wanted to get into her father's good books and the way to do that was to make his daughter happy. When Lu-Ann knew that the best way they could make him happy was to keep away from the girl full stop.
Tessa pulled her red lipstick coloured bottom lip in between her teeth before she took a puff on her cigarette. She couldn't actually remember this Brad, but apparently Lu-Ann had told her that she had met the guy. Not much really stayed in her mind lately but she guessed that was down to the alcohol that she consumed while in the club. It was the only way her father could keep an eye on her. Especially when it came to him being here in the club. She moved her dark brown eyes away from her friend at that thought and looked up towards the balcony but he wasn't there. No doubt doing some business like he usually was. She sighed under her breath before looking back at the blonde haired girl next to her. "You should go out with Brad, it might do you some good to be less...uptight" she nodded once and took a puff of her cigarette once more and put the ash down on the bar. It would keep the guy behind the bar busy anyway.
She knew that her father didn't like her smoking and that's why she did it all the more, just to prove that he couldn't control her at every corner, even if keeping an eye on her in the club was actually walking into his hands. Tessa liked the free booze. It was the only place she would get the stuff free, even if people knew who her father was. She put the cigarette to her mouth once more and then motioned to the barkeep to get two more drinks for her and Lu-Ann, even if she wasn't sure what the stuff was. It tasted good, that's all she was worried about.
"I shouldn't drink anymore, my mother will be so mad when I get home!" Lu-Ann giggled but she took the drink anyway. Who cared what momma wanted right now. She was enjoying herself and that's all that mattered right now.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 16:24:21 GMT -7
"My point, Scotty," Giamatti points at him with a cigarette, smoke trailing from the tip. "Is that my family has been running these streets since the 20s. Back when Capone was running hell in Chicago." Giamatti places the smoke to his thin lips and drags in deep, his face somehow redder. Scott reacts with nothing more than calm consternation. When the Don gets angry, there's nothing to do but sit there with his mouth closed tight. Scott might own a few of the hottest clubs in New York, but at the end of the day he still has to put money in the Don's pocket if he wants to keep running his business. Sometimes, in order to stay on his good side, all Scott can do is let the man pour out all of his troubles on him. Not many people would have the privilege.
The Don breathes out smoke in a long, steady stream. "Now a few pricks are making trouble on my streets? Hijacking my trucks?" He jabs a finger hard against his own chest; a big, fat diamond ring wobbling from the force. "I should skin them alive." He throws himself back against the cushions of the red, velvet couch and grabs for his drink.
Scott runs his tongue across his lower lip, giving the Don a second to breathe and giving himself a moment to put his words together. "It's nothin' you can't take care of, Giamatti. A couple wise guys thinking they can join the big dogs? The city will swallow them whole." He replies, draping one arm across the back of his seat. Giamatti huffs out a breath that could be agreeing or disagreeing, but remains silent for a long moment more. His knee bounces up and down frantically as he fumes about the current state of operations in his head. Scott lets him, and sips at his glass of wine.
"Bring the girls back, would ya!" Giamatti shouts at one of his own men standing just to the side, throwing a hand towards him. The man nods, fixes the collar of his suit, and disappears back into the crowd to seek out the two pretty girls the Don came in here with. "It's about time we got some real entertainment."
"I couldn't agree more." Scott says, glancing to the side to watch as the two women return with big red smiles on her faces. Giamatti's mood lifts instantly.
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 17:07:45 GMT -7
"Do you think your father will ever get married again?" Lu-Ann asked as she looked over at Tessa, who was putting her cigarette out. It seemed like the dark haired young woman had finished it in record time, maybe she really was gasping for something out of life. But when it came to the Argent's, it seemed like they all were trying to do something for the rush.
Teresa shrugged up a shoulder. "Who am I to say whether he will or not" she wasn't really in the know-how when it came to her father's love life, not that she wanted to know. The last thing she wanted was for her mother's memory to be tarnished. Although there was sometimes women who would throw themselves at him but he just seemed to look away or put his concentration on keeping an eye on his daughter. Who, according to people who knew Scott, was the apple of his eye. There wasn't another person he loved and would protect with everything he had.
Lu-Ann went back to her drink. She knew it was some what of a sore subject when it came to Tessa's father and other women, even if it had been a long time, maybe three or so years, since Tessa's mother had died and yet the only other woman that caught Scott's eye was his daughter. It was said that Tessa was the only woman he needed in his life, just as long as she was safe then nothing else mattered, well apart from keeping this club alive. She put her dark eyes on Tessa, it seemed like she liked to constantly push the boundaries when it came to her father, there were rumours that she was out with all sorts of guys for the high. Maybe even for the sport of keeping her father on his toes and constantly reminding him that he didn't own her no matter what trouble she got in too. Maybe she took after her brother in that sense. It was no secret that Scott didn't get on with Tessa's brother. It seemed like the only person who did was the girl sat next to her. Lu-Ann's thoughts was then interrupted when someone spoke to Tessa.
"Take this drink over to your father, will you Tessa?" the guy behind the bar asked and then pushed the drink over to the owner's daughter. He knew it was his job but if he went over there while Scott was doing business then he was bound to be in trouble but if it was Tessa who took it over then it wouldn't matter.
Teresa sighed under her breath and then grabbed the glass of whiskey from the bar. "Duty calls" she said sarcastically and made sure that Lu-Ann had hold of her purse before she moved through the crowds. Her dress was silver, apparently that was the Argent colour or at least for the women in the Argent family, and when the light caught it it looked as if Tessa was shining. She finally found her father, he was in one of the corners. She sighed once more before slowly moving towards him and the man that he was sat with, who had two women with him. Tessa shook her head before she moved passed the bodyguards that were there. "I was asked to bring your drink over for you" she said and held the glass out to her father. "Johnny didn't want to disturb you while you were doing business" she said quickly before the barkeep could get into trouble. She gave the other man a smile before putting her eyes back onto her father. He hated the fact that everyone seemed to call her Tessa, especially when she was actually called Teresa, and would call her by her full name but she actually didn't mind it. After all Tessa was just a nickname that she had thought up.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 17:35:58 GMT -7
Scott glances upwards when a girl in her early twenties approached their corner seats; all silver except for her raven-black hair. The bodyguards let her pass without question, only Giamatti's men giving her lingering looks, and she came promptly to Scott's side with a drink in hand. It's scotch, his favorite. As much as he tolerates red wine for the sake of Giamatti's tastes, there's only so much he can drink before he feels like his whole mouth is coated in red. He takes the glass of scotch from her, shrugging off the excuse for Johnny. As much as he's sure that business had something to do with sending the slender beauty his way, he also knows that Giamatti has a special soft spot for Scott's daughter. As much as he dislikes the lewd attention she attracts, the big, fat smile that spreads across the Don's face tells him that Teresa is a card aptly played in sedating Giamatti's anger.
He debates whether he should fire the bartender, or give him a raise.
"Thank you, sweetheart." Scott replies to Teresa, taking a sip of the scotch to rid his mouth of the wine after-taste.
"We were just talking about you, Tessa." Giamatti grins, his own girls forgotten. Scott hides his cringe at that nickname, and continues to drink. "Now where have you been hiding all night? You are absolutely radiant, doll. You make that dame onstage look like a rat with legs." Scott glances to the side, eying the torch singer all in black. He didn't hire her just for her voice, but one vote of disapproval is nothing compared to the dozens of men drooling over themselves to get a flash of her long, pale legs. Scott glances away, and settles back into his seat.
"Don't let Vicky hear you say that." He tells the Don in a joke. Giamatti laughs a little, but his girls look less than pleased.
"Sir," Scott's bodyguard murmurs, approaching from the right behind Teresa and leaning down to talk directly in his ear. "There is a woman here asking for your audience." Scott arches a brow.
"Who?"
"She says her name is Margaret Carter."
"Trouble, Scotty?" Giamatti interrupts, noticing the hushed conversation.
"Excuse me, it appears I have another guest to entertain." Scott comments, rising to his feet. He sets the glass of scotch on the low, glass table, and buttons his jacket once more.
"Nonsense. Tell whoever it is that they can join us." Giamatti replies, waving a hand dismissively. The bodyguard looks to Scott for approval, who gives a somewhat reluctant nod in return. "And bring some more wine back with you." He calls out to the bodyguard as he departs.
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 17:59:06 GMT -7
Tessa smiles softly at her father when he thanks her for the drink. It was Johnny's idea to get him a drink not hers. She was too busy listening to Lu-Ann prattle on about Brad and whether her father would actually get married again. It was stuff that she had heard before but apparently this Brad was delicious. There was times when she felt like slapping Lu-Ann across the face and then drenching her in water just so that she would get off the ridiculous path she was on.
There was times when she liked to push the boundaries just to see how far she could push her father before he snapped. It seemed like it didn't really matter what she did, her father was always there to clean up the mess. Good ol' daddy. She put her dark brown eyes on the other man, the Don, when he started to speak to her. She smiled and then laughed softly, "Well someone has to keep the bar propped up" she said before nodding. "In fact that is where Lu-Ann is right now."
Lu-Ann Marshall was her oldest friend and they had been through everything together, but she was a girl that didn't seem to care whether Tessa's father owned a small shop or a popular nightclub, they were friends and that's what she needed in her life. A female friend, after all she was the only female left in her family. At that thought she looked over at her father and swallowed hard when he joked about Vicky hearing. "I'm sure she can take care of herself" she nodded once and then looked over at the bodyguard when he came to her father's side.
Tessa moved over slightly and then bit down on her lip as her father stood up. "Maybe I should leave you to it" she smiled and then looked over at the Don and gave him another smile and a slightly bow of her head. "It was nice seeing you again." It was business that Tessa didn't want to get involved with. Oh, sure Tessa knew how to handle herself. Knew how to handle a gun but when it came to her father's business, that was something she never wanted to handle. Tessa left all the talking to the grown up. It was better that way, especially with all the stuff that her father was in too. As long as there was a free bar waiting for the youngest Argent then she would always be happy to just sit on the sidelines and watch the men do the business. Although a part of Tessa was interested in what this Margaret Carter wanted with her father.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 18:52:41 GMT -7
Scott takes a seat once more, but a slight frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. He and the Don get along well most days, especially when Scott keeps his mouth shut, but other people have a habit of either being terrified of him or acting incredibly stupid around him. He doesn't know who this Margaret Carter is, but chances are she is a woman who could just as easily do both of those things. Fear makes people stupid, and Giamatti hands out plenty of fear.
"Take care of yourself, doll." Giamatti smiles a toothy smile at Teresa.
"Don't let Lu-Ann drink too much." Scott says as a parting remark, reaching once more for his glass of scotch. "She doesn't hold her liquor well." It's a warning for Lu-Ann as much as it's a warning for Teresa. He cares for his daughter, truly, but she has a habit of getting herself into unnecessary trouble just for the sake of trouble. Lu-Ann doesn't have half of the conviction to stop Teresa, and often times Scott doesn't have the power too either. All he can do is make sure she doesn't get in too deep and hope she doesn't resent him later. But she always does.
"Hell, send the broad this way too, then!" Don Giamatti chimes in gladly, and gives both of the girls on either side of him pats on the thighs. They've returned to drinking with big smiles, but Scott can tell they're rethinking their date with the Don. Scott is only lucky that Giamatti pays Teresa in compliments, and not offers. If that were to change, their relationship would quickly turn from friendly to ugly. Giamatti isn't the only one with power.
"I hope I'm not interrupting." A feminine voice breaks through his train of thought. It's soft, but strong; words lilted by an English accent that isn't all too common in these parts. Scott glances up at the same time as Giamatti, and both rise to their feet in the presence of the dark-haired woman.
She's wearing a white, silk blouse and a black pencil skirt; the fabric hugging a curvy frame that makes the two gals sitting on the couch look like twigs. Her lips are painted blood red, and her dark brown eyes glitter in the golden light. She's smiling, but only slightly; the kind of smile that makes a woman look like she knows something you don't. The kind of smile that makes a woman look dangerous. She's flanked on either side by a man, who look more military than friendly. The taller of the two is blonde with an aquiline face, handsome. He looks like he's been picked right off of a farm, but his eyes say otherwise. They're dark blue and sharp like an eagle's, and a muscle jumps in his defined jaw as if he's seen something he doesn't like. The other is more relaxed, a sly smirk curving the edges of his mouth, but Scott recognizes a killer when he sees one. He's still got World War II written all over him.
This isn't just some rich dame hoping to be friendly.
"That is not a problem at all, sweetheart, not one bit." Giamatti replies, scanning the brunette up and down like she's a prized dish. The blonde man instantly focuses his steely gaze on him, and his dark brows press a little closer.
"You must be Margaret Carter." Scott breaks the ice.
"Please, call me Peggy." She replies.
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 19:20:30 GMT -7
Tessa gave the Don another smile when he said for her to take care. She mostly did, until she found something far more interesting to do rather than sitting around in a bar looking pretty. Although that really didn't take much work, if any at all. Another smile pulled at her lips as if she had her own private joke. When she was in the club she was mostly known as The Silver Woman, mostly because of the fact that she wore silver dresses. It was some family thing that Scott had actually explained to her but no doubt she had forgotten. Silver made her look good anyway.
Her eyes fell on her father when he warned her not to let Lu-Ann drink up the whole bar but even she could hear the warning underneath his words. There were times, some often than not, when she had to be carried out of the club. It was the only time that the bodyguards touched her. It was fun, she was young and free, and even Tessa needed to just take a step back from everything going on around her. The free drinks that she got at the bar was both a blessing and a curse especially when she drank so much that she would end up with a headache the next morning, that and her father staring down at her with concern in those eyes of his. Tessa always promised him that she wouldn't do it again, but she was back out the next night, drinking and dancing the night away.
She could see the look in his eyes now and she moved over to where he was sat and put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry,father, I'll make sure that she doesn't drink up all your Scotch" she joked before looking back at the Don. "My friend doesn't handle things like this very well" she admitted. Sad thing is that sometimes she has to drag Lu-Ann out to the club with her. The blonde is actually a shy girl and getting asked out is a big deal for her but sittings like this would just overwhelm the poor girl, how she ever ended up being Tessa's friend she would never know. Maybe they balanced each other out. But it was true what Scott said though, she really didn't handle her drink too well. Mostly because of the fact that she wasn't used to it.
Tessa was going to open her mouth to say something else but then a female voice cut in and she moved her brown eyes away from her father and over to where the woman was standing. There was no denying it, she was pretty but the two men standing beside her was the thing that caught Tessa's eye. The blonde, was definitely handsome but the other one, there seemed to be some smugness about him. Tessa liked him already. She cleared her throat and then was the one introduce herself first. "Teresa Argent" she said softly with a smile "But please call me Tessa" she glanced out the corner of her eyes as her father at that before putting them back on Peggy and gave her another smile.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 20:13:25 GMT -7
“It’s a pleasure.” The English dame replies to Teresa curtly with a small little smile. Scott watches her for another moment with brows furrowed close.
There are plenty of powerful women in New York. If there’s anything the mob values more than their money, it’s their wives, but very rarely does one like this walk into Scott’s club. There’s no doubt in his mind that her two lackeys are packing heat, and in the presence of Don Giamatti, that makes him a little uncomfortable. It wouldn’t be the first time a mob hit went down in a public place here in the city; he just doesn’t want to deal with cleaning up the blood.
“I’m Scott Argent,” Scott finally introduces himself, but makes no move to shake her hand. “This is Don Giamatti.” He makes a noncommittal gesture towards the Don, who adjusts his pinstripe suit at the introduction.
“Hard to believe we haven’t met.” Giamatti flirts with a Brooklyn swing.
“It’s not that difficult to believe.” Peggy replies coolly, regarding him with an arched brow.
“What can I help you with?” Scott says aloud before the conversation diverts even further away from the point. He takes a swig of scotch, and settles back down into his seat. Giamatti shoos his girls again, who leave with sour looks on their faces, before he too sits.
“Well it’s more of a question of how I can help you.” Peggy states, rounding the single remaining chair left at the corner table. She sits in it without an invitation, and crosses her legs like she knows she has all eyes on her. She places both hands on the arms of the chair, red fingernail polish matching the décor and her ruby lips. “But we can start with a glass of bourbon, on the rocks. If that’s not too much to ask.” There’s an edge to her voice that Scott doesn’t recognize, but he doesn’t like it either. He gives a stiff nod towards his bodyguard, who folds his mouth flat and disappears again.
Scott looks back to Peggy, but eyes her two guards as he does with a hardened stare. The dark haired one is glancing towards Teresa, only barely hiding his interest. Scott reaches inside his white jacket for a pack of cigarettes, and taps the box onto the back of his hand to loosen one. “I’m not used to women coming to me with offers. Especially not ones with armed henchmen.” “Well perhaps what I have to offer will change that.” Peggy replies, glancing between Scott and Giamatti in a slow blink.
“And what exactly is that, toots?” Giamatti snorts, looking her up and down once more, but his gaze focuses intently upon her long legs. She’s wearing nylons, and it makes her skin look like silk.
“Guns.”
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 20:55:46 GMT -7
There was silence around the three of them and then finally her father introduces not only himself but the Don and there is something in her father's stance that actually makes her look over at the dark haired woman. The sad thing is that she's never heard of a woman walking into Scott's club and wanting to talk to him about whatever it was that they were going to talk about. Tessa can't help but smile to herself when Peggy asks for a bourbon. Well at least the woman knows what she wants.
She moves out of the way and then sits next to her father and glances over at him when he gets a cigarette out. Tessa reaches over and takes the packet from him before tapping the box and getting one out for herself. She could just about imagine her father sighing at the fact that she would be lighting up. He hated her smoking but whatever her father hated, she loved. She then looked around for some matches. Then realising that she had left her own at the bar with Lu-Ann.
Tessa took the cigarette from between her lips and rolled it around in her fingers. She would just have to light it when she got back to the bar. Then she raised her eyebrow when Peggy said about an offer. She bit down on her lip and then looked over at Scott when the dark haired woman said about guns. Tessa moved her brown eyes back over the Peggy, "My father doesn't do guns" she said before she could stop herself. She knew how to use a small hand gun but that was only protection that her father made her carry around with her but thankfully she didn't have to use it. But other than that Scott didn't have anything to do with guns. Or at least that's what she knew anyway. She pulled her lip in between her teeth and started to play with the cigarette in her fingers once more, she would have to go to the bar to get some matches.
Tessa really needed to take Lu-Ann home before she cleaned up the bar, or got hit on by some guy who was too drunk to stand up. She sighed under her breath before looking passed Peggy to the dark haired henchman and let her eyes linger on him for a moment before she moved her brown eyes back away and over to her father. It was his business, but guns.. That was a big no. For her at least.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 3, 2015 21:22:18 GMT -7
Scott's brows dart upwards when Peggy replies so bluntly. He and the Don discuss plenty of business in the corners of his club, where the music and the chatter all around them drowns out any possibilities of someone overhearing. But they rarely made deals out in the open like this. And they never, ever, made those deals with women. Right on cue, Giamatti lets out a bellowing laugh like a dying elephant, one hand slapping down onto his knee. Scott doesn't look so amused as he places his cigarette to his lips and flicks out a lighter. He lights it, silently, letting Giamatti make all the noise for the both of them. He barely notices when Teresa snags a cigarette from him.
"This broad's got balls." Giametti guffaws out, leaning forward to look Scott right in the face.
"Fortunately I don't, or else I'd be weighed down by my ego." Peggy interrupts Giametti's outburst, voice stronger than ever. She sets her sighs back upon Scott. "And perhaps you don't do guns, but you should." She begins, jumping off of Teresa's startled response, one manicured brow arched upwards. "It's no secret that since the end of the war, crime in Brooklyn has risen drastically. The pair of you together make up the biggest crime syndicate in New York, but even you have been victim of petty thefts and hijackings." She informs, well versed in the happenings of the Brooklyn area for an English girl. "How do you expect to run a business with small-time criminals are ripping you off daily?" Her dark-haired lackey snorts a little under his breath, just loud enough for Scott to glance towards him around the smoke of his forgotten cigarette. He watches as the man turns his eyes back towards Teresa, a glint in his stare that Scott doesn't like in the slightest. As the discussion continues, the man steps around the back of Peggy's chair towards Teresa, pulling a lighter smoothly from the pocket of his black slacks. He flips it open and flicks the flint in the same instant, and holds the flame towards Teresa's unlit cigarette.
Scott's jaw tightens.
"So what, princess? You going to sell us the guns we need to stay on top?" Giametti asks, but he's more than condescending.
Peggy doesn't even bat her eyelashes. "Precisely."
"Why us, then? You like our good looks?"
"You have the money and means. It's simple capitalism."
"How'd you get guns in the first place?" Scott interjects, turning his attention back on the woman. She glances towards him, head tilting slightly to the side. "You expect me to believe you just happened to stumble upon the business."
"I have a connection within the Army."
"What kind of connection." Scott presses.
"A good one."
"That where you get your boys too?" He asks, waving his cigarette towards the blonde and the dark haired one, who had gradually returned to his spot behind Peggy.
"Government Issued right down to our shoes." The dark haired man retorts smoothly.
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 3, 2015 21:53:22 GMT -7
Tessa jumps when Giametti starts to laugh. Although she really should have expected it seeing as they never do deals with a woman, in fact she's never really seen a woman sat with them to do deals other than the girls that the Don brings with him. She's thankful that it's not her that gets approached to go out on a date with the man. He was something to do with her father and something to do with her father usually means bad news. Plus she liked the guys that her father would find very disappointing, the bad boy type. The ones who showed her how to have a good time without being asked.
She couldn't help but smile when Peggy said about the egos, it was all that men were known for. That and for showing girls a good time in the bedroom area. But she cleared her throat and then set her dark eyes back on Peggy when it seemed like she was trying to push the guns on the two men that she was practically sat in the middle of. Guns definitely was a business that she didn't want to get involved with. She wanted to keep as far away from that as she could possibly get. They had done good so far without adding any guns to the matter so why did they need to start now?
Maybe it was an argument that she would have to take up with herself seeing as it wasn't like her father was going to listen. Tessa was going to say something else when the dark haired man moved around the seat that Peggy was sitting in before he lit his lighter and held it out towards her. A smile pulled at her lips and she put the cigarette back to her lips before leaning in and lighting the cigarette. She took a long drag before blowing the smoke out and setting her dark eyes once more on him. Tessa moved the cigarette from her mouth and then bit down on her lip as she exhaled more smoke, this time from her nose, like a dragon as Lu-Ann would say, a smile pulled at her lips before she moved her dark eyes away and over to her father who looked as though he would have steam coming out of his ears if he wasn't careful.
So they both were from the Army, she liked the sound of that. "I like a guy who can hold his own" she said and then grinned at the dark haired man before she let her eyes fall on her father once more. He definitely wasn't impressed. No doubt she was in for a night of his yelling. If he didn't know his daughter by now then he never would. Tessa lived to torment him, it kept him on his toes. But of course it wasn't only him that she kept on their toes, she done the same to her brother. Although Graeme had her affection willingly, unlike with her father it felt forced. But for some reason she felt like it was all now going to change, that maybe, just maybe, Peggy might get them onside.
What would happen if that really was the case and was she actually worried? Don't know and yes definitely. But she guessed that only time would tell. Tessa put her cigarette back to her mouth and took a long drag, although right now she really needed something strong to drink at the same time. But that would have to wait til she really did go back to the bar.
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 4, 2015 11:38:47 GMT -7
The dark-haired man flashes a crooked grin towards Teresa, and Scott's frown deepens. He isn't blind to the subtle eye-roll his blonde compatriot gives in regards to the current situation, or the way that his hands are crossed behind his back like he's got something to hide, but it's the flirty one that makes Scott's skin crawl. He can tolerate plenty. A lifetime of serving drinks and trying to build a business while raising a family during the worst economic crisis this country has ever seen made that so. But the one thing he can't, and won't, tolerate are the jackasses that treat his daughter like any other dame in this joint. His daughter is no innocent flower, but Scott hasn't spent his life protecting her for nothing.
"Well I suggest you take your war boys," Scott says, a little louder than he's spoken the entire time, and fixes his icy stare back upon Peggy's face. "And your guns and go elsewhere." He dismisses with a scowl. Peggy regards him like she isn't all that surprised and like she's somehow amused. It only boils his blood. He rises to his feet and buttons his jacket, done with the conversation. "You'd be more useful to me on a stage, kicking those legs of yours." He takes one final drag of his cigarette before he squashes it in the crystal ash tray upon the table.
He doesn't even recognize that the big one has moved until he's getting forced against the back wall; his arm twisted tight against his back and his teeth biting into his cheek. Scott tastes blood in his mouth, but that's the least of his worries.
"You should learn some manners." The blonde snarls in his ear, his Brooklyn accent shining through.
Scott's bodyguard has drawn his pistol, barrel aimed right at the blonde's skull, but the giant doesn't even flinch.
"Hey, buddy, relax," Scott hears the dark-haired one speak up, and out of the corner of his eye he can see the GI with his own gun raised. His bodyguard looks flustered, and Giamatti's can barely reach inside their jackets before the Don stops them with a single raise of his fat hand. "They're just talkin'."
"Call your fuckin' dog off." Scott grunts out, but his words are muffled by the wall. The blonde twists his arm tighter, and Scott feels something pull in his shoulder.
"Steve, sweetheart." Peggy speaks, voice calm and sedate. She rises to her feet fluidly, picking her black handbag up as she does. "That's enough. We're done here." Right on command, the blonde lets go of Scott and steps back, adjusting his blue suit jacket. As Scott twists back around, one hand pressed to his bleeding lip, the one called Steve gives him a hard look before returning to Peggy's side. She pulls a thin card from her purse and sets it upon the table. "Should you change your mind."
She loops one arm around Steve's and turns to walk away with him, giving Teresa a small friendly smile. "It was lovely to meet you." She says as she departs. The dark haired one lingers for another beat, gun still trained on Scott's bodyguard, before he suddenly points the gun away, both hands lifting in a mock surrender. He tucks the pistol into his black suit jacket and winks, before turning away to follow after the other two.
|
|
|
Post by Snowglobe18 on Aug 4, 2015 12:38:54 GMT -7
Tessa put her cigarette back to her mouth and took a long drag, before blowing the smoke out but she wasn't blind to the look that her father had on his face. She was never the perfect daughter who would've found a man by now and gotten married especially after the death of her own mother, she decided it was better not to put that much trust in a man. Even if she was actually pretty close to her brother, who had decided to become a cop and who she would make sure that she saw a couple times of week. He was the closest thing she had ever had to a perfect family. Her father's anger was the reason why she done everything she could to piss him off.
She then glanced over at said father when he spoke to Peggy about taking her war boys, and getting out of his club. Some how she really didn't seem surprised by the way that her father spoke to people who took an interest in his daughter. It was like he was trying to prove that he was going to protect her from all sorts of people. If only he knew what she got up too most of the time, although knowing Scott Argent he probably did know.
Tessa's mouth fell open when Scott said about the fact that maybe Peggy should be using her legs on the stage, other than what had been said about Vicky on the stage, she hadn't really heard her father say anything like that before so she really wasn't surprised when the blonde man behind Peggy was suddenly holding her father up against the wall, if there was anything Scott Argent needed, it was a good beating. Even if she was sure that the blonde haired man would likely kill Scott for the comment on Peggy. She stood up and dropped her cigarette on the floor before using her healed foot to stub it out.
There was guns pointed at the bodyguards and she slowly moved her eyes away from the dark haired man over to the blonde one, who she now knew was called Steve before she watched as he let her father go. Even Tessa knew that there was only so many times Scott could use his mouth before he got in to so much trouble that even he couldn't get out of it. Plus she wasn't sure if Graeme would actually help him out, not that he would ask.
She watched as Peggy put the card on the table before she looped her arm with Steve's and turned to walk away. Tessa gave Peggy a smile and a nod when she said that it was lovely to meet her, even if she wasn't sure that she meant it but either way she smiled and then put her dark eyes on the dark haired man who was putting his pistol away into his jacket and then grinned when he winked at her. She bit on her lip and watched as the three left the room before she turned on her father. "Did you really have to aggravate a woman?" Tessa shook her head and sighed. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days if you piss anyone else off"
|
|
|
Post by Ray on Aug 4, 2015 13:07:13 GMT -7
Scott glares towards his daughter. "Don't start." He doesn't need the extra commentary tonight, especially from the girl who'd been shamelessly flirting with that bitch's lackey. He pulls his handkerchief from the pocket of his white tuxedo jacket and dabs it at his lip, wiping away the blood pooling there. Luckily, the rest of the club didn't seem to have noticed the commotion at their end of the joint, and continued to dance along to the torch singer's wailing tune. He shoves the handkerchief into the pocket of his trousers and reaches for his drink, downing the rest in a single swallow.
"She's right, my friend." Giamatti comments, pushing himself upwards. Scott doesn't miss the casual way he picks up the card Miss Carter left behind, or that he tucks it away into the interior of his pinstripe jacket. "Women can be ruthless." He smiles like he's amused by the night's events, and Scott's never wanted to hit him more. "Well I think I've had quite enough entertainment for one night." He claps his hands together, and gives a nudge of his head to his two bodyguards who are hiding smug smiles. Giamatti steps around the table towards Teresa and takes her hand. "Lovely to see you again, my dear." He smiles, giving her a kiss on her knuckles. He releases her and straightens his tie, and Scott clenches his teeth tightly together.
"Take care of that lip of yours, Scotty." Giamatti points at him with a ringed finger, but Scott just stares at him with impatience. With a pat on his closest bodyguard's shoulder, he says, "Let's go," and leaves the mess and his unpaid bill behind.
Scott swears under his breath as soon as Giamatti is out of sight, and slams the glass down onto the table.
"More...scotch? Sir?" Scott's bodyguard asks hesitantly.
|
|