Putting down her fountain pen and rubbing her eyes, Emily sighed and considered adding a good glug of whiskey to her coffee. There was so much work still to do. It wasn't that she ever thought setting up and running a crew would be easy; it certainly wasn't- but every step forward was rewarding. Before she picked up her pen again, the office door swung open. Alan Garrett strolled in with a newspaper under one arm and a briefcase in his hand. There was a tell-tale bit of powdered sugar on his lapel. Emily knew it was powdered sugar, because she knew for a fact that Alan wasn't into coke. She raised and eyebrow smugly, but decided not to say anything as he plopped down in the chair across from her. 

"Alan, I see you've been busy about town today. Anything I should know about?"

Shaking his head, her Right Hand propped his feet up on the coffee table and unfolded the newspaper.

"Not a damn thing. The new book maker are still setting up shop, the new office building is a week from being finished, and-"

Glancing down, he noticed the white mark on his dark suit lapel.

"-that is definitely not powdered sugar. It's...drywall dust."

Emily rolled her eyes, smirking.

"Right. Ok, well, I'm about ready to take all this and chuck it in the "fuck it" bucket. Please tell me you got a reply from the mayor's office on those building permits."

Alan nodded.

"It's all in motion, Em. Everything is coming together fine. You really need to relax. See a film, do some jogging."

He sat back and rattled the newspaper as he began to scan the stories inside. Emily briefly glanced up at the paper. The headline read something about Luke Appling setting a new record for the White Sox.

Sitting back, Emily thought for a while as she continued to stare at the paper blankly. A minute or two later, she leaped from her chair, pounding her fist onto the desk top.

"Baseball! That's it!"

Alan, who had nearly jumped out of his skin at her outburst, looked at the front of the paper quizzically.

"That's what?"

Emily came from around the desk and perched on the front of it.

"I've been trying to think of something to do- some kind of outing to get the crew out and socializing. Something we can all do to relax and take a breather from all this madness of setting up. A baseball game! I haven't ever seen a game, but I'd like to. Let's go to a game. In fact, let's invite Lee and Ari and everyone. I'd be willing to wager they could use a break, too."

Alan seemed genuinely surprised at the idea, but didn't have time to get a word in edge-wise. Emily was already flipping through the phone book and jotting down numbers.

The next morning, invitations including game tickets were hand-delivered to each HQ in Chicago. The game would be the next afternoon at Comiskey Field, and Emily had reserved an entire section for the crew leaders, hands, and any associates that could make it. She even arranged for a catered meal of authentic ballpark food that would be served right in their seats. Of course, she then had to spend the rest of that day looking for exactly the right outfit to wear. What exactly does one wear to a baseball game anyway? 

Levey was sitting in his office going over the newspaper. It was only about an hour before the market was going to open and he had a good feeling about oil today. All signs were pointing to a stock split in American Standard. That's when Margie dropped an invite, which had clearly already been opened, onto his desk.

"Can I come? I'll be your arm candy Mr. Posner."

Not for the first time the girl tried to bat her eyelashes at him. He sighed and put down the paper, picking up the invite to see exactly what kind of ball he had been invited to now. Some dinner or fundraiser, some no-name, looking to make something. But not this time. This time it was the perfume that hit him as he read the note.

"A ballgame huh? Well I haven't been to one of those in years. Yes, you may come Miss Paige, but not as my arm candy, find yourself a date."

Margie gave him a pout then and left the room, not quite swinging her hips. He watched her go, he was human after all, but nobody was going to be his arm candy, not until he found his firecracker of a redhead.

"Gotta take the afternoon off..."

He picked up the phone.

"Orchid, hey listen we just got invited to a ballgame this afternoon if you want to come. Free food, and Miss Paige is coming, so if you say yes, I'll just shut the office for the day. How about it? You know what, don't answer, just come, office is closed."

He smiled and bounded up out of his chair. He scribbled a quick note and then made his way downstairs. Handing the note off to one of his running boys, he peeled off three dollars and handed one to each of the boys.

"Office is closed today boys, go see your mother's I'm sure they will be happy to have you home for a day. Or go play some ball, whatever you want to do."

He shrugged his jacket on then and made his way outside. Today was going to be a good time.

"How much longer, Ruth?"

Emily called from the bathroom out into the bedroom of her hotel suite where her assistant Ruth was laying out the specially procured outfit for the ballgame. The older woman looked at her watch, again, and called back.

"Two hours till the ball park opens, ma'am."

"Good grief! Not much time!"

Emily poked her head out of the bathroom, curlers still still tightly rolled into her dark hair.

"Can you call Mr. Garrett and remind him that he's picking me up?"

Ruth nodded and disappeared into the living room. 

An hour and a half later, Emily stepped out of the front door of the hotel. For the first time in longer than she could remember, Emily wore a pair of cuffed pedal pusher denims and white Keds. A white blouse with black pinstripes looked like a feminized version of a baseball jersey, and fit her figure nicely. A black purse was slung over her shoulder, and she held a White Sox baseball cap in her hand. 

As Alan's car pulled up, she grinned and peeked over the rim of her sunglasses.

"Look at you, all awake and on time and everything."

Settling into the passenger's seat, Emily crossed her legs and pulled a compact from her purse and opened it, checking her lipstick. 

"Well I've never been to a game, I don't know that I find it entertaining. I just know that it's a hell of a lot more fun than staring at papers and blue prints all day."

They rolled away from the curb and Emily looked up with a glimmer of excitement. 

​​​​"I haven't had a hot dog in years." 

Fifteen minutes later, Emily strolled through the gates of Comiskey Park, wide-eyed as a girl on Christmas morning. Alan trudged a pace behind, not seeking quite as taken with the sights and sounds. An usher met them near the gate and greeted them very respectfully. Just as he was about to lead them to their section of seats, Emily spotted Leevey approaching. She waved and grinned. 

"Lee! Oh, you made it! I'm so glad you were able to come out!" 

Levey had walked his way from the cab into the ballpark. It was loud, then again, these things were always loud.

"Well I have to thank you for the invitation. I can't say I would have thought to bring a lady to a den of inequities, but I'm glad you're here all the same."

He smiled and gestured to the loud raucous sounds coming from just the other side of the ticket booth.

"So, where are we seated today? Also, where can I get myself a beer and some cracker jacks? No hot dogs for me sadly, though I hear they are the perfect ballpark food."

Motioning to the usher, Emily gathers her purse in her hands.

"I've never had the pleasure of taking in a game myself, so I suppose I'll have to risk the inequity; or perhaps take advantage of it."

With a glint in her eye, she gestured toward the usher.

"This way, my friend. Our section is ready and I understand there are stewards already in place to take orders for food and drink."

There was business to discuss, but it could wait for a few innings. Looking back over her shoulder, she looked for Alan. He was squinting against the sun and swatting at a stray mosquito. He clearly hadn't gotten into the spirit yet. Laughing softly, Emily grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along.

"Come on, let's get some beer in you."

He knew he was late, but that was alright. If there was one thing he was good at it was making a fashionably late entrance. The game hadn't started yet anyway, so it wasn't like he was going to miss anything really important. He had given Nyx a ring the night before to let her know what time to be at the stadium, and he counted on her to make her own way there. Closing up the shop, Aristocrat stepped out to the alley and to his bright yellow Lincoln K Convertible. You might think keeping a car like that tucked in an alleyway was just asking for it to be stolen, but the people in the area knew of his reputation by now and no one touched it. As he drove to the stadium, he thought of the night before.

"Look Ted I know what you're thinking. How can I sully my reputation in this city and these fans? You're a favorite after all I know. I'm not asking you to do anything real major, just throw a few easy balls in the way of their best hitters and you'll be raking in twice what you normally would for this game. No one would ever have to know, everyone has a bad game." Aristocrat smiled as he spoke to the starting pitcher for the Sox. If he was going to a baseball game, he was damn sure going to make some money while he was at it, and with the Sox such a favorite to win, it was going to be a hefty sum he could walk away with tomorrow. Everyone had their price no matter how honorable a person, and this pitcher was no different. He accepted and took the money and the game was all set. 

Arriving at the stadium, he parked and made his way inside only just catching a glimpse of the others. He followed close behind until they found the seats before he made his presence known. "Ladies and Gentlemen, fear no longer as I am here. It's going to be a wondrous game I have no doubt!" He took his seat without food or drink, preferring to keep his bladder empty so he didn't miss any of the game. He was actually a pretty big baseball fan, though the Sox were not his favorite. "I hope none of you put a bet on the Sox today. I have a funny feeling about the pitcher."

Levey sat, and placed a quick order for a beer and some peanuts before pulling out a pad and a pencil. As Aristocrat sat and mentioned the pitcher, Levey looked in his direction. Nothing of note, no injury, warming up, no pulled anything.

"Alright Aristo, what's the feeling?" he asked, still refusing to take his eyes off the pitcher.

Just then there was a beer in his hand and a bag of peanuts. He gave the steward a dollar for a tip and then nodded to Emily-Renfroe.

"Well, I must say I've been to quite a few games and I've never received service quite like this before."

Grinning, Emily arranged the baseball cap on her head neatly. 

"Well, how many games have you been to as the ranking leader and acting Godfather of a city?" 

Shifting her focus to Aristocrat, she settled back in her seat and waited for her own drink and popcorn to arrive.

"I didn't make any bets for this particular game. I want to learn everything I can. I've got a mind to make a different sort of investment where baseball is concerned. I hear it's the real spirit of the working folks on the South Side. So, naturally, I'm going to take an interest."

Enzo saw the tickets at the counter of the HQ. He looked around as seemed like most was at the game already., tapping his chin he took a ticket and stepped out to hail a taxi. Motioning his hand as he was a big White Sox's fan for most of his life growing up on the South Side. The taxi pulled over and he got in.

"Comiskey Field." Enzo said to the driver.

After making it to the park Enzo got out. Showing the woman at the gate his ticket she pointed him into the direction to go. Taking out some cash he had just made running small jobs for Miss. Renfroe. He made his way over getting a Chicago style hot dog, the only way to get a hot dog. 

Making his way down to the seats noticing a bunch of Chicago Higher ups sitting together. Enzo made his way to the other side sitting on the far side of the group knowing damn well that he is to low of ranked member in their society to be over there. Getting comfortable in his chair he sat back and watched the ball park game. 

Aristocrat could only chuckle at the obvious question. "The feeling? Well, I suppose you could say that....I've got a line directly to the man himself and it seems he's not feeling quite himself today. I think you'll see when the game starts just how much of a change it is. I would go and make your bets now if I were you." He smiled at Levey and nodded in interest to what Emily had said. He didn't know just what she was up to, but he was more than intrigued to know. Perhaps it was just one small step on their path to building a city grander than any could imagine. 

"I don't think it'll be a long game. I hope not anyway, I'm rather busy and I would hate to see it fall into late innings. Nine should suffice enough to be entertaining, don't you think?" He had gone to a few ballgames in his time, one of the longest going for seventeen innings. One thing he couldn't stand was when something went off schedule. 

Levey nodded and stood himself to go place a bet. It was easy to find a working phone, it was not as easy to get hold of it. Eventually one of his bodyguards wound up simply pushing the man out of the way.

On his way back he noticed a young man he recognized sitting, more or less by himself.

"Enzo! What are you doing way over there, come sit with us."

He patted the seat near him and then sat next to Orchid and popped a peanut into his mouth. He gave her a playful smile as he listened to the sounds of the game and then turned toward @Artistocrat.

"So, you in the habit of having a line to a lot of sporting events?"

Enzo looked over to Mr. Posner patting the seat next to him. He couldn't say no to one of Chicago's bosses that would be disrespectful. Making his way over to the seat next to Levey_Posner. 

"Oh I am sorry Mr. Posner, I was sitting over there because I didn't want to take a seat that might be for one of the other bosses. Plus I am just lower member or our society. Thank you for inviting me over."

He smiled at Mr. Posner. Taking a bit of his hot dog, oh how he loved a Chicago dog!

Levey nodded.

"I get the sentiment, but something you should pick up on real quick? Nobody is just a lower member in Chicago. You're either in, or you're out. If you're in, you're my family and that means I'll do everything I can for you. If you're out? Well hopefully then you're my friend and we can work closely together toward our common goals. I don't like to make enemies Enzo, I find them to be worth less than friends."

He took a sip of the beer in his hand and then motioned to the game.

"Enough about business though, you a baseball fan?"

Nodding in agreement with Mr. Posner. His words made him feel very welcome into this Life. Growing up in Chicago it was known about the Life of a Mobster, but Enzo never experienced much of it since his father tried to keep him out of that business. 

"I understand. I assure you I am all in." 

Smiling as he took another bite chewing it fast and grinning at Mr. Posner.

"Yes sir. I have been White Sox's fan since I was little. How about you Mr. Posner?"