Queenie

“That sorta depends on how much you pay, and uh. Well, you know, what I’m doin’, I’d like to know if I should bring a gun or not.”

          ❝Payment will be discussed after the job is completed; a direct reflection               on whether I think you did well, or not. After all, I hardly know you -- can               I trust you?❞

Michael panted after his rant, eyes narrowed in a look of barely-contained anger.

           A grin followed the brunette’s words as she glanced over the fresh coffee stain covering the stranger’s front. That must be painful -- looks hot, too. Although, Julia can’t be sure that the faint steam rising from his shirt was from the coffee and not that his pure rage had him literally boiling. Nonetheless, her gaze raised again to meet him in the eye, ❝That’s not a good look. I’d suggest you change.❞

magistrx

        ❝You’re in my spot.❞ She spoke with the same steady tone as she set the now empty shot glass on the bar, gesturing the tender for another. After any hard day -- or any day, to be honest -- this is always where Julia ends up, sitting at the bar and metaphorically washing the blood of her hands. Same spot. Same drink. Same time.

           ❝That all depends ----                 Are you still interested in the job?❞

“I don’t ever recall promising you any fuckin’ money, bitch. You must have the wrong fuckin’ man.”

           ❝So, you’re telling me there’s another Jimmy                De Santa at this address who owes me                 money?❞

Absolutely love this movie

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                       ❝Is that vodka?❞                                                       ❝Yeah.❞                     ❝Are you Russian?❞                                                   ❝Yeah.❞                                                                            i. ii. iii. iv.