The man stood beneath the street lamp on the corner of Fifth and Birch St. The sounds of the city could be heard all around, weaving and twisting between buildings, alleyways and parked cars for those who knew what to listen for and had the patience to interpret it. The city spoke in undertones of desire, loss, misery, excitement, loathing, envy and above all other things – danger of what was to come. The man could feel it in his bones as easily as he breathed in the night air but did not let it consume him in this moment. This moment felt special in some way, almost tangible and so material in nature that he felt he ought to be able to grab it. Instead, he took a long drag from his lucky strike cigarette and appeared to weigh in the atmosphere of his surroundings.

He had arrived in the city not two nights before and already so much had changed in his life. The things he had done within the past 48 hours would have shaken him to the core a couple of years ago. Now it felt as if they were just jobs that needed to be dealt with by a man and he had become that man. He wondered what his Da' would think of him now. A common paddy street thug dressed in a nice suit paid for with blood money and not a single honest day's labor to speak of.

Fuck.

It was a nice suit though and had been a gift from his new boss Sandberg. The custom tailored jet black three piece suit fit him like a glove and was made from silk, with a crisp white collared shirt and a matching jet black silk tie. The suit was adorned with cufflinks that would have cost more than several months salary when he was a younger man and then there were the lambskin leather loafers....No, Da' would not have been pleased with him.

He felt it again in that moment, the Catholic guilt creeping up the back of his neck. It had been affecting him more and more as of late. Almost as if on cue, another more subtle thought crept up into the back recess of his mind.

If I wasn't the one to take care of these jobs, another person would come along and do it for the boss and make a butchery of things. The way I do business brings a certain level of tact and professionalism to the venue.

He shook his head though at the thought. No amount of sane rationalizing was going to get him through this internal struggle. What he needed was a drink. And a strong stiff one at that and maybe a woman. Lucky for him there was a local watering hole right across the way. It looked a little on the shady side but then again he didn't exactly give off the “come fuck with me” kind of vibe.

Hopefully they'll have some good whiskey in there and not this cheap bathroom gin that I keep being forced to drink. Maybe I'll meet a woman worth a damn this time, maybe just maybe...

He started off walking across the street in the direction of the bar with the hopes that a stiff drink could take his mind off of his guilty conscience.

Lucy was heading down the street with a large pile of shopping items, her bodyguards were just a few feet in front of and behind her.  She felt safe in walking somewhat recklessly - vision obscured by all the items she had purchased - until the moment of impact.  Her things: jewelry, white satin heels, hair accessories, a veil and a box containing a wedding dress scatter about the ground.  

Lucy instantly begins to fuss, "I'm so sorry!"  She apologizes to the person she hasn't even looked at yet as she begins gathering her wedding items.  "I didn't see you, I hope you're not hurt!"

She is dressed in black pinstriped pants, a feminine white button down blouse, red suspenders and has a black barret on her flame red hair.  When her emerald eyes finally come to rest on Finnigan she brightens.  "I'm such a clutz." 

Her large, older Italian bodyguard (a man with a hooked nose and a large scar across it), comes up to her quickly - "You okay Miss Lucy?"

"I'm good Giuseppe, help our new friend up."

Giuseppe offers you a hand as she comes to her feet.  "I really need to keep my eyes in front of me."  She laughs.

Finnigan accepts the extension of a hand from the burly individual all the while adopting the posture of one who is attempting to be completely unstartled by a string of unfortunate events that had just occurred but in all actuality was completely shaken by them.

He responds sarcastically while dusting himself off, “No no, its quite alright. I enjoy being bowled over by random people all the time, it's exactly what I looked forward to when I'm strolling the streets at night. In fact...”

At this time Giuseppe flashes him a look that tells most men they have exactly 2 seconds to shut up before they are pummeled in the face. Unfortunately the gentleman in front of Giuseppe lacks the natural instinct most people have of what is or is not good for their overall health and begins to continue on due to his wounded pride.

Just as Finnigan is about to continue on with his tirade of sarcasm, all thought leaves him as he notices Lucy for the first time. The red haired beauty stares at him through her emerald green eyes and for the first time in a long time the man feels completely exposed and at a loss.

His eyes drift away from the gaze that caught him unawares because of how vulnerable it made him feel.

GET YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN.

While gathering his wits, he notices the mountain of items spewed about upon the ground.

Lot's of earrings and necklaces, expensive shoes, a veil....and a wedding dress. This is a woman who was shopping for her wedding and of course the first woman that enthralls me so is soon to belong to another man. Well...maybe such a fine Irish lass has a sister and we Irish were never known for small families.

Finnigan responds for the first time in apparent earnest, “Yes...Yes you probably should keep those eyes in front of you...”

Giuseppe starts advancing upon Finnigan.

“....But! But! But... I feel the fault was as much yours as mine. They tell you to look both ways before you cross a street but maybe one should look for vision impaired women toting 20 shopping bags as well. Gods forbid a woman buy a modest amount of things on a shopping spree.”

Giuseppe is apparently not amused and takes a swing at Finnigan.

The man dodges the blow effortlessly if not comically and offers up a hasty laugh while putting his hands up in surrender.

Finnigan says, “Lady, will you call off your goon! This is not helping!” as he dodges another swing of the burly Giuseppe.

Lucy laughs so hard that she thinks she's about to drop her things again.  "ENOUGH GIUSEPPE!"  The poor guy was not much for allowing people near her or to talk to her poorly these days.  Frank and Tony really must have given him an ear full.  She'd have to address that later, but for now, it was a hoot to see an Irishman dodging her well meaning bodyguard's blows.

"I'm Lucy Fazzone,"  She said offering her hand as a car honked at them both.  Tony, a younger Sicilian bodyguard, came up and took some of her things.  "And I'm the lady who is going to buy you a drink.  I won't take no for an answer - after how my goon here,"  she mocked her old friend with the Irishman's words, "tried to rough you up.  And if you feel responsible at all for what happened, you can continue to entertain me with that wit of yours!  What a gas you are!  Now, lead the way!"

The dark brown haired man with a sly grin about him held up both his hands as if in mock protest and said, “No, no, no! That isn’t necessary Lucy,” as he eyed the seemingly endless train of bodyguards that accompanied the fiery red head, “I know better that to tangle with fire when I see it. It’s like me Da’ always said, Finn my boy! be careful around the ones with fire in their hair and hearts for it has been many a fool’s lament. And well you see my dear, Da’ didn’t raise no fool. At least not one fool enough to drink with the likes of such a sharp witted and lovely lady who keeps such dangerous company,” but even as the words left his mouth, one could almost tell that he was not fully committed to his own words.

The man had seemed to have recovered somewhat from his previous startled state and now began to get a good read upon the situation.

Christ Finn my boy, this woman is obviously sharp as a tack and a woman of means but you best be keeping your wits about you! You might be able to handle  yourself with the local muscle goon or two but not an entire train of them and boy does she seem to be in ample company! And she is obviously involved in some sort of wedding too! Careful Finn, careful…

The thought occurred to the Irishman that he hadn’t properly introduced himself to lovely young lady yet and it might be his exit strategy. He extended his hand in greeting and said, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Miss Fazzone, I’m Finnigan Debonaire or simply Finn for short. Perhaps our paths might cross again and hopefully under less chaotic of circumstances! However I believe I have a prior appointment elsewhere.  You have my deepest apologies for not keeping you company.”

The man retrieved his hand from the lovely lady, smiled at her with his devilish grin and started to turn around and walk away hoping his exit strategy was going to work...  

"The pleasure was all mine, Finn."  She said with a laugh.  "Another time perhaps!"  She called after him as he was departing.  Her bodyguards already gathering up her boxes and hurrying her along to her car and those awaiting her at home.