The streets are filled with people that have places to go, and people to see. There is a hustler on every corner, trying to get the drop on anyone that looks like they have a plug nickel to thier name. The wind isn't so bad during the day, but you can understand how the city came by it's famous nickname. This is Chi-town, the place that Legends are born, and are as quickly forgotten.

A fierce wind slaps me in the face as I step out of the airport, sort of a weclome to your new home kind of moment. I look around the crowded walkways for a moment, and start off walking toward the heart of the City. Only a few blocks into my walk, I hear the sounds of a scuffel coming from an alley to my right, I just keep right on stepping. This town doesn't like people nosing around into matters that don't concern them, and it's surely one of the fastest ways to find yourself on the wrong end of a business decision. I decide to stop and lean against a nearby building, watching the alley from a distance. Shortly two well dressed men step from the alley, each one looking as crisp as new money. They take a survey of the area, and start off in my direction. I pull out a smoke and strike a match against the side of the building, the smoke is thick in my dry mouth. I exhale it right before they arrive. The moment is tense, but thankfully they don't let me linger too long in the uncomfortable silence. The older of the two gentlemen speaks first, his heavy accent marking him as a life long native of Chicago, "We couldn't help but notice that you kept walking after our friend had a rather nasty fall in the alley there." 

His eyes bore into my own as I replied calmly," that it was none of my affair, and I only stopped to enjoy a smoke before moving along." I pulled another long drag from my cigarette and exhaled the smoke to the side. "I am just a guy down on his luck, and figured maybe Chicago might be just the town to turn my luck around in",  I offered a bit too eagerly. My voice started to sound smaller in my own ears, I could only hope that these guys didn't pick up on the nervous feelings that were starting to build up in the pit of my stomach.  I took the last pull off the cigarette and crushed it out on the sidewalk, as I became painfully aware of how scuffed my shoes had become.

The younger man leaned over to his companion and spoke something in a low voice, his words were unheard by any save his companion. With a nod from the older man, he addressed me in a clear voice, "Be at Mel's tonight at 7, and ask for a table without a view, and a glass that has no bottom."

Then the two turned and walked away into the crowd like drops of rain merging into the sea. I was left shaking as I tried to light another cigarette, my normally steady hands betraying my efforts. I looked down at my pocket watch, only three hours to find Mels in a new town. I would have to work fast, if I was to keep my appointment with fate...

It a typical Chicago evening, in that nothing she passed as she walked down the street was typical at all. Most of the city's occupants didn't see what she saw because they chose not to. The scuffling in the alleyway had to be a cat, and the sick sound of someone emptying their stomach after being punched so hard to make them woozy would be at worst the drunken homeless, spitting up a night on the sauce.

Alexandra did not live in the world of the average citizen. She was not blind to the elderly lady waiting to cross the street, her purse such an easy target. It had not been too long ago when Alex herself would have snuck by and lifted the old bag's wallet. But she'd moved on to bigger and more lucrative business. Her own winehouse in the city posed as a front smuggling in all sorts of stolen art and antiquities from Europe. Sometimes she wondered if it made her a despicable human being, but today as the steady clicking of her stiletto heels on the sidewalk filled her head with a mindless tempo, today it was just business as usual, and if she didn't steal that art, someone else surely would.

She heard the commotion in the alley, and like the gentleman walking opposite her on the walk, continued on her way without taking a second glance down the dark street cove. He stopped to smoke a cigarette. She stopped to check the road before crossing the street.

Far enough away to remain inconspicuous, but still close enough to hear and always on the lookout for information, useful or not, she stopped when the conversation started, pretending to have dropped her bag. While bending down to pick it up, she heard the invitation to Mel's and having been given similar directions when she was - as they say - fresh off the boat, she smiled to herself.

"Good luck kid," she muttered under her breath, as she straightened herself and smoothed her skirt.

And she meant it.

The after five crowd had made it's way to the concrete walkways, each person lost in personal thoughts of the evenings events. The air had taken on a more meaningful chill as the sun began to sink behind the tall buildings of the skyline. The smell of exhaust and the roar of passing engines signalled the start of the evening rush hour, and was accented with the occassional angry shout from motorists who felt they had been some how wronged.

He stood there a moment trying to decide on his next move, when his eyes happened to fall upon a women that dropped her bag. Even through the traffic of people and cars, he could tell this dame had class. Her dress and high heels were examples of what all the right people were wearing this year, and her hairstyle alone probably cost more than the average joe's weekly allowance. He remarked to himself that she sure was a looker, and that's when he saw she was near a telephone booth.

Making his way against the throngs of people and jaywalking across the street, he soon found himself inside the booth, looking for a listing for Mel's. It took a few minutes, but he soon had the address and number written on a matchbook cover that he kept in his coat pocket. With the information he needed secured, his thoughts soon turned back to the hot number that he had been giving the once over too just a few moments before.....

Her little ruse had netted her little useful information and street rubble on the bottom of her bag. Alexandra brushed off the debris with a gloved hand, and rubbed her fingers together to remove any dirt. As if this tiny sequence of actions served as a signal to the Great Watcher above, the already cloudy Chicagoan skies opened up and unleashed a furious downpour, drenching her in seconds. Her formerly perfect coif now lay in dripping golden ringlets around her shoulders and down the back of her cream suit, like caramel melting on a sundae left in the heat a moment too long.

She muttered an expletive to herself and quickly searched to find shelter, noting the phone booth nearby. The gentleman she'd eavesdropped upon was now inside, but as the receiver sat on the cradle, she assumed he was using the booth for the same reason she intended to: cover.

Quickly, and without asking permission, she opened the door to the telephone booth, edged her way in, and pressed her back against the glass so as not to crowd her unsuspecting neighbor.

"Pardon me," she said, before biting her lip apologetically. Alexandra pulled the door almost closed, and without being indecent, bent down slightly and drew her legs up one at a time to remove her soggy, and most likely ruined, shoes.

"That came out of nowhere," she said idly, making conversation. "As it usually does when I forget my umbrella." Sighing, Alex reached her arms out the slightly open door and dumped a small puddle of water from each shoe. Not a particularly material woman, she didn't enjoy another pair of ruined pumps, and the cream and black saddle style heels were among her favorites.

"I'm Alex," she said, placing the shoes on the floor of the booth and removing the glove from her right hand before extending it to shake. Her eyes darted to the glass and upward looking to the skies. "I hope you aren't in need of a private phone conversation, otherwise I'll be swimming across the street in search of an open apartment."

A quick pray of thanks crossed his lips as the sky opened up on the city. She, the dame of his intentions, was making her way hurriedly toward the his phone booth. With a disarming smile he made space as she pressed into the now cramped confines. "I am Sterling, he said with a slight southern accent, as his eyes took in her every detail. Her perfume was the first thing he noticed, not the normal dime store scent favored by the local ladies. He turned his head slightly, to allow her a measure of modesty, as she removed her shoes and emptied them of water. He couldn't help noticing her shapely legs, and how the now soaked dress clinged to her form in such a revealing manner. Quickly removing his long top coat, he wrapped her inside it's dry material. "I fear she has seen better days, but it will keep you from taking a chill, and might I say it will also cut down on the number of men willing to drown outside our booth."

After a few moments of introductions and assurances that she wasn't keeping me from making any calls, I remembered that the time was quickly approaching when I would be expected at Mel's. Without warning, I scooped Alex into my arms, and pushed open the door to the booth. Quickly making my way toward the apartment building I had been standing against a short time earlier. "Pardon my forwardness Alex, but I live close by, and you are welcome to dry out there."  Bumping into the first apartment door loudly, I paused a moment before setting her down. " I guess my roommate isn't here to let us in", I said with an ease to my voice. Turning to the locked door, I smiled at how easy I pulled that lie together, before letting myself in with a set of homemade picks. I took one glance inside, before opening the door widely and extending welcome to Alex. As we made our way inside, I looked around to see who may have noticed our arrival, a smile crossing my face as the foyer was clear.

Closing the door behind us, I examined the room quickly for any pictures that might draw questions. Thankfully the place was sparsely furnished, and didn't seem like anyone had plans of staying here long. "Feel free to freshen up Alex", I offered politely, as I removed the coat from her shoulders. "The place isn't much to look at, but it beats catching your death in the weather."  After hanging the coat up on the rack behind the door, I sat down like I belonged here, my eyes dancing between Alex and the surroundings.

Surprised by the bold turn of events, but similarly grateful for a place to dry out, Alex let Sterling remove the jacket, and thanked him politely for allowing her to use it.

"Thank you, kindly. It wouldn't have been too much longer before the chill got to me."

She studied the small, spartan space without judgment. She'd started small too, refusing to live off the family funds and desperate to make her own way. "This reminds me of my first place, actually." Alexandra moved toward the open window opposite the doorway. The view wasn't spectacular, but off in the distance she could just make out Lake Michigan over the rooftops, and the radiator under the sill began to warm and dry her clothes.

"It was west of here," she looked to Sterling with a smile before returning her gaze out the window. "In Cicero. Not a bad town, but my apartment was right above this little pub. It was noisy, and there was always someone sick out back, or getting roughed up for an unpaid debt." With a slight laugh to herself, her eyes wandered up to the ceiling nostalgically. "I had a window, but a lot of good it did me. All I could see was the brick wall of the apartment building next door."

The shoes in her hand now found a resting place atop the radiator, and she realized for certain that they would never fit right again. Perhaps she could have them fixed up enough to donate.

The jacket to her suit had dried somewhat, but her wet hair did nothing to help the back of her outfit. It took very little investigation to find the apartment's bath. "Do you mind?" and of course, her polite 'savior' didn't. In front of the mirror, she removed her other glove, fixed a smudge of mascara around her eyes, and rung out her hair into the sink. "Your accent, Sterling. I hear it slightly," she said while looking in the mirror deciding what to do. The door to the powder room had been left ajar intentionally. Sterling had been polite, certainly, but Alex found herself in an unfamiliar apartment with a stranger. And while she dressed the part of the upper class, Alexandra had not lost her street smarts. "I've tried for ages to hide my own. Not southern mind you, but its taken me a while to weed it out. Yours though, is very light. Where are you from, may I ask?"

The rain continues to beat the pavement like a gumshoe hot on the heels of a criminal mastermind. The lone window in the small apartment has long since lost it's view, only reflecting the yellowish light of the now operational street lamps below. Somewhere in the house, the faint tick tock of a grandfather style clock can be heard.

I smile as her soft voice floats back to the living area. "I'm from the Big Easy, but came to the Windy in hopes of changing my luck."  "I know a doll like yourself must be used to having a better layout, but the rent was priced right." Just about the time that I planned on laying it on thick, the clock rang the hour of six. I knew that I only had an hour to get to Mel's, and as much as this dame had my attention, I knew that being late wasn't an option.

I moved to the coat rack behind the door, sparing one glance toward the bathroom. I smiled as I noticed the door ajar, yeah, this dame knew all the angles alright. "I am going to trust you to lockup, I have a lead on a job that I cann't be late for." "It was very nice to making your aquiantance, and feel free to share a booth with me again sometime."

I open the door to the small apartment, looking around to make sure the coast is clear, and right before I close the door I remark," I wouldn't linger too long, my roommate gets a bit grumpy when he isn't expecting company." With a smile and a slight shake of my head, I make my way towards Mel's, with the thoughts of what might have been keeping me warm on another chilly Chicago night.

"Trusting," she thought to herself as she heard the apartment door close behind her, but the advise Sterling left was sage. Alex didn't want to have to explain to a roommate why she just happened to be in his apartment unaccompanied. Looking in her bag for something to help with her hair, she lamented at only having a small barrette on hand, and not one to complement her current ensemble. With a sigh, she pulled her hair up into a twist, fastened the barrette and straightened her jacket before leaving the powder room for the radiator to collect her shoes.

Mostly dried out by now, the soles of her pumps were still wet, and Alex cringed as she stepped down into the cold, leather shoes. She'd be lucky to make it out to the street before having a heel break, taking her ankle out with her. Sterling had made it hard for her to look around the apartment lobby when he escorted her into the building, but she hoped for a payphone downstairs. Trekking back to the phone booth would only saturate her more, but she needed to call a cab, a car service or Drew to get a ride back to the Wine House just a few blocks away.

But now, as she stood alone in the apartment, able to take in her surroundings without distraction, suspicion and alarm started to settle in. Why would he knock on the door? Why wouldn't he just use his key right off the bat? And even then when he did unlock the door, he seemed to fumble with the key as it took longer than normal. Too busy trying to keep herself from dripping all over the hallway carpeting, Alex hadn't noticed Sterling picking the lock. Now she wondered.

There were no pictures, though that wasn't out of place in an apartment occupied by two males. In fact, there were no personal furnishings at all, just the standard furniture one might find in an apartment for rent.

Or safe house.

"Son of a bitch." Cursing out loud and to herself for allowing herself to be led into such questionable surroundings, Alex made for the door. There was nothing she could do about the deadbolt, but she turned the lock knob on the handle itself and stepped out into the hallway. She was pulling the door closed when she heard voices on the stairs below her headed up. If only she had a tissue in her bag to put in the door to minimize the click as the toggle fell into place. With no choice, she let the door close praying that the voices on the stairwell wouldn't hear. She certainly didn't look like she rented a room here, nor did she dress the type to be visiting rooms 'for the hour'. Downstairs was the only way to go. 

For once she hoped she could make it without turning heads.

The men on the stairs were making their way closer and closer, and while Alexandra's life afforded her many luxuries, time was not one she enjoyed right now. With no other way out, and the men coming up the stairs, she was quickly running out of options. If the apartment she'd just left was what she suspected, then it could be very dangerous for her if she were spotted near the safe house of a rival family. She looked across the hallway at two other doors, and quickly at another door to her right. Four apartments per floor. Four. Four apartments, and one in particular she wanted to be miles away from.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath as she could now see the hats of the gentlemen up the stairs. With nowhere else to go, and time having run out, Alexandra pulled out the most powerful weapon in her arsenal: the art of being a woman.

Turning around and facing the door she'd just locked and shut, she ground her already ruined shoes into the threadbare hallway carpet until she heard the heel snap off. Then she lifted her hand and rapped smartly and loudly on the door of Sterling's so-called apartment.

"Allo?" she called out, allowing her French accent to emerge in full force. "Allo? Is zere anyone home? I'm here about zee ad in ze pay-pere. Allo?"

The gentlemen had now stopped on her level and she turned around to acknowledge their rather conspicuous trek up the stairs. In doing so, she made sure lean on her now broken heel, and allowed herself to fall gracefully and convincingly to the floor. "Merde!" she exclaimed in her native tongue, clutching her ankle and smiling inwardly as one of the men stood back, his arms folded, while the other moved quickly and knelt down to assist.

"You alright, Miss?" he said, while his friend looked on suspiciously. Alex feined a look of discomfort and nodded slowly, biting her lower lip as she did. "I sink so. My shoe, it is broke see? Ze rain caught me offguard, ruined my heels, and now I've come all zis way for nossin as ze man from ze pay-pere isn't home." She sighed and tried to get to her feet. As she'd expected, the white knight helped her to her feet. "At least it seems only my shoe is broken."

"Yeah. Thank Christ for that." Mr. Suspicious finally spoke and took a step forward. "Look lady, this ain't exactly Park Avenue, and I don't know what the fuck a 'pay pear' is, but you ain't got no business here."

"Pay-pere," she repeated, exasperated. "Ze news pay-pere. Zere was an advertisement for kittens, and my daughter, she is turning eight. I phoned ze number and was given zis address." Alexandra gave him a taste of his own medicine and looked down on him disdainfully. "Do you zink I came here for a garden party, you brute?" She turned her head away from the rude one and decided to look for something in her purse.

"Whatever lady," he said, and she saw him give her the once over. Twice. But the accusatory look that originally marked his face was now gone. She wasn't too keen on the look that replaced it; that of a sickly alley dog who'd just stumbled upon a discarded bone. "Someone gave you the wrong address, little lady, cause there ain't no cats in that room behind you. But hey," he ran his fingers through his greased back hair and sneered. "You can come up to my apartment. I'm sure we'll find a kitty to play with."

Alex spat at the carpet near his foot and curled up her nose. "Pig! You disgust me. Nique ta mere!" And with that she feigned indignation, put her nose in the air, and pushed her way past the two men who were now laughing uproariously behind her as she descended the stairs. She repeated her insult of "Pig!" and was met with calls of "Meow!" from behind. Had she not instigated the situation, she would probably have been offended. But as she reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the spartan lobby, she smirked. 

Men were so predictable sometimes.