[right][sub]__________ π™ΏπšŽπšŠπš›πš• πš‚πšŠπšŒπš”πšŸπš’πš•πš•πšŽ πš‚πš˜πš’πš›Γ©πšŽ 𝟼𝟿 π™Άπš›πšŽπšŽπš πš‚πšπš›πšŽπšŽπš π™Όπš’πš—πš—πšŽπš—πš˜πš˜πš—πšŠ, πš†π™Έ __________[/sub][/right] Stars blinking like sneeze spray across the skyline. The thud of a taxi door being flung shut oh-so-carelessly, no consideration for how the metal may crunch closed in the street lamp half light. Winds guillotining through the slit of a dress. Ankles pooling and melting over the edge of kitten heels as they snapped across paving slabs that shimmered with a dewy nighttime sheen. Pearl stood at the foot of SoirΓ©e stairwell. Her face, pinched tight against the cold, was angled upward at the fluorescent signage as the hum of the ballast crooned away. The linear tubes winked at her overhead, casting an intermittent shadow that hugged Pearl from behind and caressed her cheek. She felt the chilling gnash of a breeze gnaw away at the residue of Sandy that clung and coated her skin. His fingerprints, overlapping with Tony's like muddied paw prints, reminded her that Little Pearly Girl was still hidden beneath her cloak of liquor and coke and "fuck yous." It was Little Pearl who felt fearful of the ghosts on Greet Street. It was Little Pearl that felt tears prickle as the stars above glinted like Sandy's wedding band. Little Pearl winced at the memory of Tony's bracelet tinkering in her ear as he gripped her neck. It was the Madam that gulped down the ball of fear that grew benign in her throat and it was the Madam, and maybe the Manhattan, that gritted her teeth as she climbed the stairs of SoirΓ©e. Her Mother's eyes stared back at her from the other side of glass panes in the door, narrowed and accusatory, so disapproving of her weakness. Moira wouldn't have allowed such a parasite to enter SoirΓ©e. She would never have let Tony Sangiovese and his meatheads accost her. Tony was a small fry compared to the men who buried a bullet in her Mother's skull. Pearl had to reestablish herself. And she had to do it tonight. The outing had given Pearl the clarity she'd so desperately needed. She felt anchored in her body again instead of clutching railings starboard side in uncharted waters. Seeing Sandy behind the bar, still ruggedly handsome and effortlessly charming, should've reminded her of the heartbreak he'd left behind. It should've rattled her already brittle nerves but instead something fierce had succumbed her. Was it her Mother's voice? Her determination to regain control? The anger she felt at a wife she'd never know laid up in bed waiting for her bartender husband to return home? Either way, Pearl was somewhat pieced back together. Cracked and tarnished but together. Roger was awaiting her return on the other side of the SoirΓ©e doors, his night shift in full swing. They hadn't crossed paths when she'd snuck out for her walk earlier and his baldheaded nod of greeting felt as close to "Welcome Home" as she'd ever get. The nod was stoic and solemn in an utterly emotionless way, arms folded across his ironing board of a chest. [quote] [i]"I'm fine, I'm fine..."[/i] Pearly sighed, waving a hand dismissively. [/quote] Roger's brows twitched and he twisted his body to let his Madam slink past like a cat returning through the flap after a night of skulking shadows and jumping fences. [quote] [i]"Come 'ere, Roge"[/i] Pearly purred, shrugging out of her coat and heading toward her office. [i]"We've got business matters to tend to."[/i][/quote] The two of them entered the office, the Madam took her rightful place behind her desk whilst Roger stood expectantly opposite her. She eyed him from over the desk, fingernails rapping rhythmically across wood. [quote] [i]"Tony Sangiovese paid me a visit,[/i]" she said tightly. [/quote] Roger nodded again. Just once. Morbid yet knowing. She searched his face for a sign of any remorse. Anything that may give an inkling of guilt for his absence, for allowing some schmuck to lay his hands on the woman that paid his wages and fed his kids. But, as always, Roger remained unintelligibly stolid. The finger raps had turned to taps, impatient as they knocked against wood. The smell of Tony's breath on her cheek, the immovable nervousness to be in her own home, the weakness she felt at Tony's mercy, it all bubbled, boiled and toiled within her. Little Pearly Girl sobbed but the Madam roared protectively as she slammed her palm down on the desk. The typewriter and the pen pot clanged as the desktop shook. Pearl's palm spanked the desk again. And again. The pen pot teetered then toppled over, spilling its contents like vomit across haphazardly strewn paperwork. Pens rolled scattered across the desk, sent to an untimely death as they plummeted to the floor. Roger stood, staring unflinchingly. [quote] [b][i]"He had his goddamn hairy ass hands round my throat, Roger!"[/i][/b] she bellowed, vocal cords straining against her pain. Her own fingertips hovered where his hands had been, just as they'd clutched at his grip all those hours before. Voice softening a few decibels as she took a short and sharp breath, she went on. [i]"My throat! Mine! Me! I've run the most successful whorehouse in Minnenoona since those girls were picking they noses in class. And in all them years, do you know how many times I've had someone grab me up in my fucking house?! I'll tell you, Roge. Let me tell ya. One. And it's one time too damn many!"[/i] [/quote] Pearl's words coloured the air blue, thickening the air like too much flour in cake mix. Roger still stood, phlegmatic. The only giveaway that he was even hearing her was his slow blinks and clenched fists pinned rigid to his sides. [quote] [i]"He says he's comin' back in a couple days, y'know. And I'll be damned if that wop gets that close again. So by the time he's back, I want twice the bodies in here. I want the best fists you can find me, Roge. I'm not kiddin'. I know you know people. Tony's got enemies all over these streets. Find they friends, friends that'd wanna chance to see him on his ass. Go fetch em. Bring em back here. And tell em if that greasy-haired hairy fuck even tries to put his hands on me again? You take em clean off."[/i][/quote] A silence fell. Pearl's bones trembled. Her eyes bore holes through Roger's skull, two hollowing beams piercing straight through him. His shoulders rose and fell with barely a sigh. [quote] [i]"And what about when the rest of the Family hear Tony's been roughed up at the local brothel, Miss P? What happens when the others come? And they keep coming?[/i]" [/quote] The Madam ground her molars together, faded ivory on faded ivory, ridges smoothing by the second. [quote] [i]"I need you to restore peace in my house, Roger. That's what I pay you for. I don't pay for your problems. I pay for your solutions."[/i][/quote] Pearl daintily plucked at her handbag and pulled out a silver cigarette tin. She slid a cigarette out and placed it between her lips, the hiss of a match head crackling as a glowing flame leapt forth to illuminate the tip. It was no cigar. But it smoked anyway and it filled her limp lungs with something. Her outburst passed them by like storm clouds on wind and she puffed grey into the space between them. Roger turned and purposefully left the office without another word, shoulders broad and door slam rattling hinges with finality. Once again, Pearl was alone. But this time, she didn't feel scared or vulnerable or fearful. Those feelings had inched away into the darkness as soon as she'd settled into her office chair. Little Pearly Girl had been put to bed. The Madam smoked her cigarette as she stared at the space in the carpet where Roge had stood. As she breathed in the nicotine and breathed out the remnants of rage, she told herself this would all work itself out. She wouldn't wind up like her Mother, face down on that very desk with a hole in her head. She'd sooner die than wind up dead.