The ever-present breeze from the Lake blew Stella's long, dirty-blonde hair across her face as she stepped out of the airport in Chicago. Her flight from Vegas had arrived late, and dusk was settling over the sky.  Her coat was belted around her waist, and her favorite new hat was perched on the crown of her head.  She had over 10 grand in her purse- more cash than she thought she would ever see in her lifetime.  Best part?  It was all profit.  When Stella's "opportunity" arose to begin this life, she really thought she'd stil be scraping by and handing all of her cash to some big shot suit that would occasionally throw crumbs her way.  To her delight, Stella had already put down money on a nice condo around the Loop.  The cash in her bag was half earmarked for furniture, and the other half for clothes.  A girl's dream come true.

The line for the taxi pool was lengthy, but Stell wasn't in a big hurry. She hung back, a few dozen feet from the line, and went into her bag to get a cigarette.  Just as she put it to her lips, she felt a tug at her shoulder.  Spinning around, she saw a brutish man wearing black clothes yanking at her bag.  She froze in a panic, dropping the cigarette.  Without any idea what else to do, she tried yanking back.  

"Hey! What the hell!?"

Stella was no match for the man's strength.  The strap of her purse snapped and the robber stumbled back a bit, then gained his footing and took off.  Stella angrily stamped her foot on the ground. No one from the taxi line seemed to notice, or care, and there were no police in sight. 

"Damnit," Stella called out, more than aggravated, "Someone help!"

Gavin was smoking a cigarette and leaning against the exterior brick wall of his new favorite speakeasy. It had been a long week, first with his sister chasing him around "to be responsible" and then gallivanting around the country trying to impress Jack Mezzo and Spaceman. 

He was fucking exhausted, but a few points, a few cigarettes, and the night air had helped him feel normal again. His eyes traveled over the people as they walked by. Most of them picked up their pace when they saw him lurking near the edge of the alley, but he just smiled. Fortunately for them, he was feeling lazy.

"Damnit. Someone help!"

He heard the voice and whipped his head around, immediately seeing a good looking woman getting her purse snatched. The thug was running toward him, and Gavin nonchalantly stuck out his foot. The guy was big; he would have been a tall order for Gavin to beat in a fair fight. Unfortunately for the thug, he hit the ground hard and Gavin's fists were right behind, aiming for his head. A few punches later and the thug was rolling on the ground.

Gavin grabbed the broken snap and lightly swung the purse up into his hands. He flashed a roguish grin at the unknown woman as he took a cursory look inside. His eyes widened as he saw how much money was there. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced up at the owner of the purse.

"So lady. You got any connections I should be respecting right now? People in the business? Any business I can get into? Or is it more profitable for me to just take off like this other mook did?"

Stella had come to her senses enough to take off a pace behind the thug, trying to catch him.  What she would do if she caught up, she hadn't actually thought through.  Already a bit down the street from where he grabbed her bag, she was so intent on running after him that she nearly tripped over his suddenly-unconscious body crumpled on the ground.  Stella skidded to a stop and glanced up from the heap of failure to see a rather dashing young man nosing into her open bag.  His question made her chuckle a little as she snatched the bag from him, closing it and tucking it under her arm.

"I have no idea what 'business' you're talking about.  I'm...I work for my Uncle.  He's a...loan sh- uh, officer.  In Chicago.  I'm just...a teller."  

Her response sounded more like a question than an answer.  This was the first time she'd been asked so pointedly about her involvement with any sort of family or crew; and she'd never actually thought to ask what she should say.  Sheepishly, she cleared her thraot and looked to the left, then back at him.

"But thank you- for stopping him.  That was quick thinking.  A lot quicker than I thought, really."

She smiled a little and then straightened her shoulders, then stuck out her hand toward him.

"I'm Stella."

Gavin still eyed the bag, knowing he could steal it back- and seemingly seriously considering it. Her explanation didn't quite sound convincing, though; if she was connected, stealing from her wasn't worth the trouble. He grinned as he stuck his thumb back at the bar behind him.

"Name's Gavin. Buy you a drink?"

Noticing a patrolman a few blocks away, who would no doubt have questions about the unconscious man, Gavin moved toward the door of the speakeasy, hoping the woman would follow him in. 

Stella noticed a slight change in his expression, and instinctively followed his gaze to see a portly police officer strolling down the block.

"Now they show up.  Yeah, how about a drink?"

With that, the pair slipped through the door of the club.  In truth, it was probably the nicest bar Stella had ever seen- including the ones her Mom used to drag her into for work.  Sure, those were seedy strip joints, but that was all Stella really had to go off of.  Luckily, she happened to be dressed for the place.  When the door shut behind them, she slipped off her overcoat and looped it over her arm.  Thankfully, upon inspection, Stella saw that her navy blue dress had survived the flight with minimal wrinkling.  The pearls left to her by her godmother laid neatly on her neck.  

"Take your coat, Miss?"  A voice came from behind.  She turned to see an old man in a coat check room. 

"Ah, sure.  Thank you."

She handed him the coat and her hat, and he returned a small ticket to her.  Stella then turned her attention back to the gentleman that had so kindly helped her get her purse back.

"Now that we're out of the streets, Gavin, it's nice to meet you.  Are you from around here?"

Gavin shook his head as he lightly took Stella's hand and lead her to a booth in the corner. It was the one he'd been at for the last few hours, but hopefully the waiter would neglect to mention that. He slid into the booth opposite Stella, grinning.

"Not from around here, no. In town on business with my sister, actually. I suppose technically I'm from Philadelphia now. What about you? You a local? Here on business?"

Stella settled into the booth, smoothing out her dress over her knees.  This was one of those moments that she had to mentally stop and take a breath- she was really on her own now. A young woman of only 22 could easily be eaten alive in this world- in this business- and Uncle Joe was always reminding her to be very careful of who she trusted. Gavin, however, seemed on the up-and-up.  Besides, if there was any problem with Philly people, why would any of them be hanging around so freely in Chicago?

"Originally from Colorado Springs.  Long story, but I ended up here in Chicago looking for bits and pieces of my past.  My Godmother was a businesswoman who had good friends here; that's how I ended up with Uncle Joe."

There it was- the moment that she might have said too much.  Anyone in the underground knew who "Uncle Joe" is.  Stella absently chewed on her bottom lip lightly and glanced around, trying to determine if anyone else was within earshot.

Gavin nodded at "Godmother", unsure which type exactly she was referring to- but at a certain point, it didn't matter. Uncle Joe... if she was connected, Gavin was vaguely aware of Tara mentioning a crewleader by that name in The Loop.

Then again, there were about a million guys named Joe. 

Gavin shrugged, dismissing his curiosity and focusing on the woman in front of him.

"So walking around with that much money. Is that the business you're in? Or some of that past you were digging up? I've gotta tell ya... that's not too safe, unless you've got some guards. Or, you know, me."

He winked as the server approached. Wanting to take it slow, and let his previous drinking catch up with him, Gavin ordered a simple lager. 

Stella hesitated a bit when the waiter looked at her. She'd never really drank much. 

"I'd like a glass of white wine."

The waiter nodded and turned away. Stella waited until he was well away from the table before answering.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I'm really new to all of this. That cash is what I've saved up from doing little gigs here and there. I just bought my first condo all on my own, so that money is for settling in. I guess I hadn't really thought much about protection. I guess I have a lot to learn."

She fiddled shyly with a lock of hair.

"I take it you're in the same business?" 

​​​​​​​​​​

Gavin nodded as he listened, hand twitching absently as he wished for a drink. Finally, the beer and wine arrived. Gavin leaned forward and clinked his glass against Stella's.

"Stick with me, pretty lady. Not only am I in the same business, but I'm also available for protection when needed. And hey, that's a lot of money for 'little gigs'. What's your specialty, if you don't mind me asking?

Lifting the glass, Stella blushed a little at his compliment. 

"Fine art, mostly. I studied it in school, so I am pretty helpful when it comes to 'acquiring' expensive pieces. I'm also learning con work. Joe thinks I'd be good with diversions and things like that."

She takes a sip from the glass, reminding herself not to make a face. Wine was sort of new to her, as was most alcohol. She glances up at Gavin over the rim of her glass, curious to know more about him.

​​​​​"How long have you been doing...this work?" 

​​​​​​​​​

"Of course a woman like you has an appreciation for art. I can't say I'm much of an expert myself, but I've heard of some big payoffs there. You ever need an extra gun for a job, you let me know. Or if you need someone to plan or talk, my sister would probably be interested. She'd probably even talk to you about the art."

A roll of his eyes suggested that his sister talked quite a bit. 

"As for the work? I dunno. My whole life, in some ways. My father was a hunter, and he taught my sister and I, though I took to it more. But there were plenty of days bouncing around the woods where we wouldn't catch shit, and I'd have to go into town and steal. And after my father of died, there were plenty of fights to be had. You know how it is."

Glancing up at the woman in front of him, Gavin paused. Maybe she didn't. Living in the woods for weeks, barely surviving, fighting your way through shitty towns and villages didn't seem like it was something they had in common. 

"Been in Philly for a while now. Years, though it feels like weeks sometimes. It's a nice city- ever been?"

Stella found herself listening to his story with wrapt attention, and it hit her just how sheltered she had been for the better part of her life. She takes another sip of her wine before answering. 

"To Philadelphia? No. I haven't done any traveling outside of getting myself here."

She chuckles softly, maybe kind of sadly, shaking her head. 

"I grew up in a typical, middle class suburban neighborhood surrounded by the Rockies. It was beautiful to see  really. Everyone had a nice front yard where kids would play outside till dark; but not me. I wasn't allowed outside to play at all. I couldn't even go to friends houses to play. I didn't get it when I was a kid, but it all made sense later when I was older and found out my Dad was a rat and we were living under federal witness protection."

Stella's face grows serious for a moment and she looks Gavin in the eye.

"But I'm nothing like him. The more I learned, the more disgusted I was with the kind of man he was. He wasn't much of a father anyway. I'm better than him."

It was like a reflex  any time she mentioned her dad. There was always a fear in the back of her mind that someone might know him, or think that because he was a rat, she must be cut from the same cloth.

Gavin raised his beer and clinked it against Stella's wine glass.

"Well, you should come to Philly, then. Who knows? Maybe I'll even have my own place when you do."

Leaning back, Gavin listened to Stella's story. He was jealous, hearing about this ideal, mountainous life. For a moment, he wondered what he could have become in that other world... but his thoughts were redirected on hearing her dad was a rat. Gavin rested his hand on top of Stella's and looked her in the eye.

"Stella, I've got a good vibe from you. And I don't believe that someone's parents determines everything about them. Still, you might want to be a bit careful who you tell that to. There are some old school, superstitious assholes who think that being a rat runs in the family."

He leaned back, returning both hands to circle his beer glass.

"Don't worry about me, though. You're too pretty to be a rat. A cat, maybe, but a rat?"

He winked, taking a long drink from his beer. 

"Anyways... you blaze your own path, huh? If your old man drags you down, just cut the memory loose- be a whole new person."

Her serious expression softened quickly as he reassured her. There was something about his laid-back demeanor that put her at ease. Though such people were rare, Stella had always appreciated that. 

The wine glass was now half empty, and she could tell. Resolving to slow down, she pushed the glass aside a bit and tucked a few errant locks of hair behind her ear. 

"I'm sure my work will bring me to Philly quite often. There's a lot of good galleries in the area from what I hear. Lots of historical pieces, as well."

She grinned, slyly. 

"Perhaps I should visit soon. Maybe you and your sister can show me around." 

Gavin grinned as he finished his drink.

"Look me up when you get there. I'll be happy to give you an exciting tour. And my sister could give you a boring one that'll make mine seem even more exciting."

He stood up, cracking his neck. 

"Think we might have some trouble brewing temporarily. Look me up when you get to Philly. Race Street!"

Gavin leaned down and kissed Stella's cheek before she could make a move. A few seconds later he was heading out the door.