Did You Miss Me?

@noneedfornamecalling

"You know what they say. What doesn't kill you..." Private & Highly-Selective Newsies OC RP Blog

23 posts

noneedfornamecalling

the-daily-mischief:

A small smirk glanced upon her lips. “What are you insinuating, Mr. Russo?” She said, her gaze not breaking his. “That you talk freely without judgement or that we don’t talk?” She started to stand from her seat, not bothering to pay for the bill. She just assumed he would pay for it. After all, he was the one with the famous boss that everyone knew about.

“Whichever suits you best, Miss Lorelli.” Tony replied, though as much as he enjoyed the game, his patience wasn’t going to hold out forever. Either the bait would hold, or he’d move on. It’d be a shame, though. She looked like she could be a lot of fun without all those layers in the way. She slipped from her seat, and the movement alone brought them closer. He smiled at her, entirely without innocence.

Because of his work, he didn’t need to pay, but he didn’t like to miss an opportunity to flash his wealth, especially in front of a prospective, ah…company.

Withdrawing his wallet, he tossed down a few larger bills for the barkeep. “It would be a shame to be without your company, in any measure.”

the-daily-mischief

“It’s still early.” Mischief replied while glancing a bit at the money before looking at him. “Perhaps you can take me the long way home, then?” There was a bit of playfulness in her voice. She would enjoy getting home late and making Agnes listen to all of the details of her lucrative business meeting that turned into a night of leisure or perhaps pleasure with a handsome man.

“Perhaps we happen to get lost on the way back?” She arched one eyebrow with that smirk that she was known for. “Unless you have another idea.”

noneedfornamecalling

“You are a woman that tempts the imagination, Miss Lorelli--it would be a crime to not have ideas.” Tony offered her his arm, escorting her to the door of the bar. He would have to inquire about the bar--if this was her favorite haunt, he wanted to be nearby. Perhaps he could purchase it. No doubt the owner would be tempted by a large stack of bills, as any man would.

He replaced his hat as he moved with her toward the waiting Model K automobile. Once again, he didn’t mind showing off, and he imagined she would find it exciting to be in something of this nature. He considered it charitable.

“Mind your head, Miss Lorelli.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

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the-daily-mischief:

A small smirk glanced upon her lips. “What are you insinuating, Mr. Russo?” She said, her gaze not breaking his. “That you talk freely without judgement or that we don’t talk?” She started to stand from her seat, not bothering to pay for the bill. She just assumed he would pay for it. After all, he was the one with the famous boss that everyone knew about.

“Whichever suits you best, Miss Lorelli.” Tony replied, though as much as he enjoyed the game, his patience wasn’t going to hold out forever. Either the bait would hold, or he’d move on. It’d be a shame, though. She looked like she could be a lot of fun without all those layers in the way. She slipped from her seat, and the movement alone brought them closer. He smiled at her, entirely without innocence.

Because of his work, he didn’t need to pay, but he didn’t like to miss an opportunity to flash his wealth, especially in front of a prospective, ah...company.

Withdrawing his wallet, he tossed down a few larger bills for the barkeep. “It would be a shame to be without your company, in any measure.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

the-daily-mischief

“Ferris Bicycle Corsets.” Mischief said slowly as her investors looked on with a grin. She didn’t seem impressed about posing in the Ferrisbook of Living Models. The pay would be great and would afford her a nice apartment, “with female roommates of admirable reputation.” Of course she wouldn’t be allowed to live by herself. “Perhaps the Riverside Apartments would be suitable. Mrs. Finnigan is…reputable, that is, if I agree to–”

There was no agreement. It was already agreed upon and Mischief was to nod her head and follow orders.

Mischief took a shot of her whiskey after the meeting, slamming it down onto the table. “And the bastards told me that I’m no longer to be called ‘Juliette Lorelli,’ oh no, that’s too ‘foreign,’ and too close to my mother and father. It’s Juliette Sonata now.” She pushed the glass aside and frowned. “I shouldn’t have signed the stupid contract.”

the-daily-mischief

It was all work. Didn’t anyone do anything besides work? She nodded slowly, listening only half interested in the Bianchi family. She never heard of them, so they must not be as known as he imagined. “Well, consider me honored to be hand picked by such an…” What was the word she was thinking of? Perhaps the whiskey was getting to her. “illustrious organization.” She hiccuped behind her hand. She needed to slow down or the night would be over too fast.

“Sounds like you’re a shoe-in for his position.” She stared at him, her eyes narrowing as though she was examining and critiquing every part of him. “What do you do when you’re not making important decisions and hiring females for parties?”

noneedfornamecalling

“Oh, I’m making important decisions about females and how to entertain them.” Tony said without missing a beat. He could see she was getting bored. Bored, and she wasn’t drunk enough. Yet. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent host, Miss Lorelli.”

She wasn’t impressed by power, it seemed. It would hold no standing if she genuinely didn’t know who the Bianchis were, so the tactic would have to change. It had been a long time since he’d had to think on his feet this way. Usually the power was enough. The name was enough.

“Poker, sometimes. Drinking most often. Desirable things more often than not, but that’s not appropriate to speak of in front of a lady.”

the-daily-mischief

“That remains to be seen, Mr. Russo.” Mischief said before taking another sip of her drink. She continued to watch him with great interest. To say that she found him handsome and mysterious would be an understatement. She was drawn to him because he excited her and scared her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the slight fear was almost exhilarating.

“Poker, drinking, things that would make a lady blush if she didn’t grow up around a rag-tag group of boys.” She focused on her drink, smiling as she remembered the Newsies fondly. “You’re in luck, Mr. Russo. I’m not blushing.” She downed her drink and pushed her glass aside. “So don’t censor yourself. I can assure you that I’ve probably heard worse.”

noneedfornamecalling

“I didn’t take you for a faint woman. I’m glad to find that I was correct.” Tony smirked as he watched her continue to take him in. She’d pushed her glass aside, so he’d taken that as a hint that she was finished for the time being. Leaning his elbow against the bar, he took her in much the same way.

“I was raised to not be crude in front of a lady.” He replied. “It’s best that I keep myself censored. In public, at least. In private, is another matter entirely.” Tony’s head tilted to the side. “Would you like to continue this conversation, in private?”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

the-daily-mischief

“Ferris Bicycle Corsets.” Mischief said slowly as her investors looked on with a grin. She didn’t seem impressed about posing in the Ferrisbook of Living Models. The pay would be great and would afford her a nice apartment, “with female roommates of admirable reputation.” Of course she wouldn’t be allowed to live by herself. “Perhaps the Riverside Apartments would be suitable. Mrs. Finnigan is…reputable, that is, if I agree to–”

There was no agreement. It was already agreed upon and Mischief was to nod her head and follow orders.

Mischief took a shot of her whiskey after the meeting, slamming it down onto the table. “And the bastards told me that I’m no longer to be called ‘Juliette Lorelli,’ oh no, that’s too ‘foreign,’ and too close to my mother and father. It’s Juliette Sonata now.” She pushed the glass aside and frowned. “I shouldn’t have signed the stupid contract.”

the-daily-mischief

It was all work. Didn’t anyone do anything besides work? She nodded slowly, listening only half interested in the Bianchi family. She never heard of them, so they must not be as known as he imagined. “Well, consider me honored to be hand picked by such an…” What was the word she was thinking of? Perhaps the whiskey was getting to her. “illustrious organization.” She hiccuped behind her hand. She needed to slow down or the night would be over too fast.

“Sounds like you’re a shoe-in for his position.” She stared at him, her eyes narrowing as though she was examining and critiquing every part of him. “What do you do when you’re not making important decisions and hiring females for parties?”

noneedfornamecalling

“Oh, I’m making important decisions about females and how to entertain them.” Tony said without missing a beat. He could see she was getting bored. Bored, and she wasn’t drunk enough. Yet. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent host, Miss Lorelli.”

She wasn’t impressed by power, it seemed. It would hold no standing if she genuinely didn’t know who the Bianchis were, so the tactic would have to change. It had been a long time since he’d had to think on his feet this way. Usually the power was enough. The name was enough.

“Poker, sometimes. Drinking most often. Desirable things more often than not, but that’s not appropriate to speak of in front of a lady.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

noneedfornamecalling

the-daily-mischief:

There were butterflies in her stomach as he looked at her. He was handsome. Incredibly handsome, but he was charming. He didn’t try to impress her, at least he wasn’t to her knowledge. Yet there was something about him that kept her guard up. That could easily be broken down with alcohol. She shrugged off the butterflies.

“I thought your boss wanted to hire me, not you?” Mischief said with a small smirk. “Unless you want me as a co-worker, which I would say the same, but I know nothing about you.” She took another drink of her whiskey and set it down on the table. “What’s your story, Mr. Russo?”

“My boss–our boss, if you accept–is a very particular man, but he trusts me completely.” Tony lifted a shoulder and gestured for another whiskey for himself, and one for Mischief. “I have a knack for finding good talent, but I can’t lie and say that I didn’t also ask you for selfish reasons.”

Then he spread his hands. “What is there to say about myself?” He smiled. “To know my boss is to know me, I’d think. You’re familiar with Alphonse Bianchi?”

the-daily-mischief

“Selfish reasons?” She raised one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Why Mr. Russo, I’m flattered.” There was only a half truth to it. She was partly flattered that a man such as Mr. Russo had requested her for his own selfish reasons, but at the same time, she was used to men attempting to flatter her with words of praise.

“I’m not familiar, but how about you tell me more about you then I can get to know Alphonse Bianchi. After all, to know you is to know your boss.”

noneedfornamecalling

“Perhaps so.” Tony replied, his own ego fluffed by the continued interest in him. Yes, his boss was an interesting man, and an incredibly dangerous one, but so was he--why did nobody seem to focus on him as the underboss?

He gave a small sigh as he settled back into his seat, prepared to regale Mischief on his various exploits and receive the expected praise. “Surprising that you have not heard of me, or my boss. The Bianchi family is a very well known and respected organization, spanning near centuries. It’s an honor to be invited to their gatherings at all.”

“As for me, the Don is my boss, and also my partner. He trusts me with the important decisions, even over his own son. I scraped my way from the bottom rung and made it all the way to the top. Well,” He amended, “Almost the top. When the old man is dead, then we’ll see.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

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the-daily-mischief:

There were butterflies in her stomach as he looked at her. He was handsome. Incredibly handsome, but he was charming. He didn’t try to impress her, at least he wasn’t to her knowledge. Yet there was something about him that kept her guard up. That could easily be broken down with alcohol. She shrugged off the butterflies.

“I thought your boss wanted to hire me, not you?” Mischief said with a small smirk. “Unless you want me as a co-worker, which I would say the same, but I know nothing about you.” She took another drink of her whiskey and set it down on the table. “What’s your story, Mr. Russo?”

“My boss--our boss, if you accept--is a very particular man, but he trusts me completely.” Tony lifted a shoulder and gestured for another whiskey for himself, and one for Mischief. “I have a knack for finding good talent, but I can’t lie and say that I didn’t also ask you for selfish reasons.”

Then he spread his hands. “What is there to say about myself?” He smiled. “To know my boss is to know me, I’d think. You’re familiar with Alphonse Bianchi?”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

A smirk slowly slid onto her lips, her finger going back to the rim of her own glass, tracing it idly. “It also takes a fool to not get everything in writing.” She had witnessed business transaction made by her uncle. When he thought he was going to take over the candy business, she had sat through many partnerships with distributors, negotiations, and contracts. Her uncle always advised her to read the small print. That’s where they’ll get you.

“If you could include the limits and details, as well as the deposit and total sum, I can look over it and see if it’s the job I want to take.” Of course, she was only doing this part to humor him. Depending on the small print, there was a 99% chance that she was going to take the job.

She stopped tracing the rim of her glass, her blue eyes continuing to watch him. “Why not get Evelyn Nesbit? I’m sure a man like you could easily get her.” She broke her gaze to some of the women whispering at the table next to them, their eyelash fluttering and their giggles trying to be masked behind their- hands. Infatuation at its finest.

Well, at least she wasn’t only a pretty face. Things like this were of course easier with pretty faces--they expected everything else to simply fall into place for them, and never knew any better when someone skimmed off the top. Mischief, however, wasn’t going to be that sort. That was fine, of course--things would be more interesting that way.

Tony seemed amused, but gave a small bow of his head to show he would acquiesce to her demands. They were of course reasonable business demands, and expected in all other areas.

“I will have it drawn up for you and brought by your boarding house by tomorrow evening.” He finally relented. “As for Ms. Evelyn Nesbitt, I find her a boring young woman with the intelligence of a popcorn kernel. I don’t want her.” Tony tilted his head at Mischief. “I want you.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

the-daily-mischief

“Ferris Bicycle Corsets.” Mischief said slowly as her investors looked on with a grin. She didn’t seem impressed about posing in the Ferrisbook of Living Models. The pay would be great and would afford her a nice apartment, “with female roommates of admirable reputation.” Of course she wouldn’t be allowed to live by herself. “Perhaps the Riverside Apartments would be suitable. Mrs. Finnigan is…reputable, that is, if I agree to–”

There was no agreement. It was already agreed upon and Mischief was to nod her head and follow orders.

Mischief took a shot of her whiskey after the meeting, slamming it down onto the table. “And the bastards told me that I’m no longer to be called ‘Juliette Lorelli,’ oh no, that’s too ‘foreign,’ and too close to my mother and father. It’s Juliette Sonata now.” She pushed the glass aside and frowned. “I shouldn’t have signed the stupid contract.”

the-daily-mischief

Mischief took the envelope and opened it. She nearly dropped it seeing all the money inside. It was much more than a one night appearance deserved, and she was certain Evelyn Nesbitt didn’t get paid that much to appear at an event. It was hard to hide her surprise and keep herself subdued, but it seemed too easy. Nothing could be that easy. Not even selling papers was that easy.

She put the envelope down on the table. “I could easily take this money and not appear at your party. I could get a ticket to God only knows where.” She said slowly, reaching for her whiskey. She brought it up to her lips and took a small sip before placing it by the envelope. “Do you really trust me that much to hand me that much money?”

noneedfornamecalling

“I don’t believe that you’re that sort of a person.” Tony replied with a certain innocence. “It takes a certain fool to simply take what is easy and run. You aren’t a fool, are you?”

He watched her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip, then merely shook his head. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t trust you to not do so. It may take a fool to simply take what they can get and run, but it takes a worse one to show their entire hand at the beginning.” He gestured toward the envelope with the glass.

“That’s why there is only half of your pay. The rest is received after the appearance, and then we can reevaluate and decide if you would like to continue doing business with us.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

noneedfornamecalling

the-daily-mischief:

Another whiskey was placed in front of her. She didn’t down it as she did previously, but pulled the glass closed to her on the table, her hand resting around it as she cocked her eyebrow. “My vision?” She laughed a little bit. “My vision involves designing groundbreaking dresses for women. There are too many men who think they understand women’s comfort and what they want. My investors would rather I be seen and not heard.” She took a small sip of her whiskey before glancing at Tony.

“Mr. Russo, whether I wish to work at your party doesn’t matter. Your offer isn’t to me but my investors.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes staring at Tony intently. “The question would be if your invitation is extended to me as a guest or to me as an employee.”

“I see no reason why business cannot mix with pleasure, do you?” Tony replied immediately, as though he’d known the inquiry was coming. His gaze didn’t waver from hers, however tempting it was to glance to her fingers. To get to where he was, Tony had needed to develop his observational skills. He’d needed to read people, and quickly, and women like Mischief tended to close off if the attention wasn’t devoted entirely to them and what they were saying.

Rather than allow himself to be distracted, his hand moved to cover hers. Pointed, but not forced. “I didn’t ask your investors. I asked you. If you would rather wait for them to make your decisions for you, perhaps you are not the sort of woman I thought you were.”

the-daily-mischief

Mischief’s gaze went from him to her hand over his before gradually looking back towards him. He was right. She hated to admit it, but she was right. She was on a leash, an animal who had to perform at command for a paying audience. Perhaps she could take control of the situation.

She moved his hand from underneath his and tossed her curls over her shoulder. “Alright. If you are asking me, then I have a few questions about this party.” Her lips curled into her trademark smirk as she tilted her head to the side. “If this is a business endeavor, then I must know what time I must be there, how long my presence will be needed, the pay, but that’s obvious, as well as transportation. I would also need to know what the event is for.”

noneedfornamecalling

Tony’s hand lingered in the empty space for a moment longer before retreating back to his own glass. He didn’t need to continue the theatrics--after all, she was very quick to wrap around his finger. The key*- was to allow her to think she was doing the same to him.

He gave a knowing sort of smile. “The question then being, how long you will have to work before enjoying yourself.” He finished for her, and lifted a carefree shoulder as he picked up his glass. “All your needs to perform will be met, I assure you. Transportation provided, as well as a dressing room if you require it so that your dress won’t be ruffled. As far as I am concerned, as long as you are there to mingle and mix with the rabble, your job is done and you may enjoy yourself.”

Setting the glass aside, he reached into his inner pocket, withdrawing an envelope. “Your formal invitation, as well as proposed pay. My employer is certain it will be to your satisfaction.” As a matter of fact, Tony had seen to it to find out how much she was normally paid--and requested it be tripled. “My employer simply enjoys seeing pretty things at his parties. He enjoys the finer things in life and enjoys sharing with his friends, that’s all.” He gestured vaguely. “Naturally, business associates will be there, but that’s none of your concern.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

the-daily-mischief:

Another whiskey was placed in front of her. She didn’t down it as she did previously, but pulled the glass closed to her on the table, her hand resting around it as she cocked her eyebrow. “My vision?” She laughed a little bit. “My vision involves designing groundbreaking dresses for women. There are too many men who think they understand women’s comfort and what they want. My investors would rather I be seen and not heard.” She took a small sip of her whiskey before glancing at Tony.

“Mr. Russo, whether I wish to work at your party doesn’t matter. Your offer isn’t to me but my investors.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes staring at Tony intently. “The question would be if your invitation is extended to me as a guest or to me as an employee.”

“I see no reason why business cannot mix with pleasure, do you?” Tony replied immediately, as though he’d known the inquiry was coming. His gaze didn’t waver from hers, however tempting it was to glance to her fingers. To get to where he was, Tony had needed to develop his observational skills. He’d needed to read people, and quickly, and women like Mischief tended to close off if the attention wasn’t devoted entirely to them and what they were saying.

Rather than allow himself to be distracted, his hand moved to cover hers. Pointed, but not forced. “I didn’t ask your investors. I asked you. If you would rather wait for them to make your decisions for you, perhaps you are not the sort of woman I thought you were.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

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the-daily-mischief

“Ferris Bicycle Corsets.” Mischief said slowly as her investors looked on with a grin. She didn’t seem impressed about posing in the Ferrisbook of Living Models. The pay would be great and would afford her a nice apartment, “with female roommates of admirable reputation.” Of course she wouldn’t be allowed to live by herself. “Perhaps the Riverside Apartments would be suitable. Mrs. Finnigan is…reputable, that is, if I agree to–”

There was no agreement. It was already agreed upon and Mischief was to nod her head and follow orders.

Mischief took a shot of her whiskey after the meeting, slamming it down onto the table. “And the bastards told me that I’m no longer to be called ‘Juliette Lorelli,’ oh no, that’s too ‘foreign,’ and too close to my mother and father. It’s Juliette Sonata now.” She pushed the glass aside and frowned. “I shouldn’t have signed the stupid contract.”

noneedfornamecalling

“We all make mistakes in business, don’t we?” Tony replied smoothly, not so much as arching a brow as the glass returned to the table. He liked a woman that could drink--he liked a woman that knew how to let loose. Or was it that he enjoyed a loose woman? Potato, Po-tah-to.

It wasn’t that Tony didn’t feel for Mischief’s plight; he understood the hazard of doing business without truly understanding what it meant. Unfortunately, he’d had to endure quite a bit of trial and error to get where he was now. To get into the business where he could assist others with their dreams (and pocket a pretty penny regardless of whether or not they were successful).

“Have you considered my offer any further? And I do mean you, Miss--Sonata, they decided? Your investors don’t seem to be very understanding of your vision.”

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

romeofoley:

Romeo didn’t seem bothered. “You can let your boss know that such treaties do not require a messenger to talk on his behalf.” He folded the paper neatly. “If he wishes to speak of treaties, then we can set up a time to meet and discuss a compromise.” He opened up his cigarette case and removed a cigarette.

“I offer my sincere apologies for the time you wasted. If you wish to set up a time, please talk to Edith. She would be delighted to schedule a meeting with Mr. Bianchi.” He stared at the Italian with his icy blue eyes as he rested the cigarette between his lips. The sound of the match striking the paper echoed through the silent bar. “Until then,” He nodded his head before letting a stream of smoke escape his lips. “Ciao.”

This was the first moment that Tony showed anything other than amusement on his face. His brow ticked, the smile turning a touch sharper--if he’d had fangs, they would likely be bared. Still, his temper was kept in check. It wasn’t smart to be there on the boss’ business and accidentally start a war. No, no, there would be time for that nonsense later.

Ignoring the smoke wafting toward his face, he simply returned a nod to Romeo, attempting to plaster an amenable smile. “Edith. Right. I’m certain we’ll be fast friends in no time.”

“Good evening, Mr. Foley.”

#;romeo #romeofoley

noneedfornamecalling

@romeofoley

“My, my…nothing really changes around here, does it?” Tony sauntered into the bar, hands in his pockets as though he was nothing more than a curious out-of-towner. He decided to make himself at home in the seat across from the gang leader’s. If one didn’t know Tony, they might have assumed his expression was open and congenial; a nice and friendly man.

He glanced up, unfazed by the men nearby that immediately reached for weapons beneath their jackets…his easy smile never wavering. “Really, there’s no need for that. I just came to chat, of course. A gesture of goodwill, from my boss to yours.”

When his gaze finally returned to Romeo’s features, he mimicked his posture. “Anthony Russo. I have to admit, I’m a big fan.”

Romeo had an array of newspapers folded on the table in the corner. His table was the one that no one bothered and no one sat at. It was his table. If the newspaper was open, no one was to talk to him. His drinks was to be sat down quietly. If he wanted another one, he’d ask. No one ever spoke to him first.

He could feel the presence of someone approaching him. He was a brave man if he approached him without hesitation. That or he was drunk. He didn’t look up from his newspaper. “I don’t sign autographs.” His voice was monotone and sounded rather bored. “If it was a gesture of goodwill, your boss would have made an appointment.” He flipped the page of the newspaper, only glancing briefly up at the Italian in front of him.

noneedfornamecalling

“Is that right?” Tony feigned surprise, his dark brows shooting into his hairline. It didn’t appear to bother him--at least, not immediately--that Romeo wasn’t giving him his attention. Tony was a patient man. He’d had to be, to get where he was. And as he was, he was untouchable.

He nodded after a moment, and all but slapped his hands on his knees as he began to stand up. “I will be sure to let my boss know that you’re far too busy to entertain a treaty. Signor Bianchi is a busy man himself, you know, but that’s not your concern...”

#;romeo #romeofoley #tony: *name drops to get a reaction*

@romeofoley

“My, my...nothing really changes around here, does it?” Tony sauntered into the bar, hands in his pockets as though he was nothing more than a curious out-of-towner. He decided to make himself at home in the seat across from the gang leader’s. If one didn’t know Tony, they might have assumed his expression was open and congenial; a nice and friendly man.

He glanced up, unfazed by the men nearby that immediately reached for weapons beneath their jackets...his easy smile never wavering. “Really, there’s no need for that. I just came to chat, of course. A gesture of goodwill, from my boss to yours.”

When his gaze finally returned to Romeo’s features, he mimicked his posture. “Anthony Russo. I have to admit, I’m a big fan.”

#;romeo #romeofoley

the-daily-mischief

Mischief’s eyes narrowed. He knew her nickname. He must’ve heard it from someone else. Barney was always bragging about them knowing each other and growing up together…then again, New York was a big city. She couldn’t assume that he ran into Barney.

“What exactly would you need from me, Mr. Bianchi?”

noneedfornamecalling

Tony laughed immediately, pausing to turn back to look at her. “Darling, I’m not Mr. Bianchi. I could pretend otherwise, but it would be an insult to the man himself, and myself. My name is Russo. Tony Russo. I work beside the big boss, and I am holding a party. Just as I said.”

He nodded toward the card. “Next week. You’ll receive your invitation, and you’ll do what you do best. Smile, exist. Your face does the work for you.” Tony glanced to the boarding house. “An easy job for you, and one I think you will regret not taking.”

the-daily-mischief

Mischief arched her eyebrow. Her employers would get more of the details, so asking how much she would get paid for merely existing seemed like a dumb question. Instead, she cocked her head to the side, offering him her best smile. “We’ll see, Mr. Russo.”

noneedfornamecalling

“Indeed we will, Miss Lorelli.” Tony attempted his most charming smile, attempting to lure the woman further. It served him well in the past, and never failed. There was fun in chasing the ones that didn’t look twice at him, though. It made the catching all the more fun. Then, he gave a small bow of his head. “Until then.” And made his way from the alley.

#;mischief #the-daily-mischief

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the-daily-mischief

Mischief’s eyes narrowed. He knew her nickname. He must’ve heard it from someone else. Barney was always bragging about them knowing each other and growing up together…then again, New York was a big city. She couldn’t assume that he ran into Barney.

“What exactly would you need from me, Mr. Bianchi?”

noneedfornamecalling

Tony laughed immediately, pausing to turn back to look at her. “Darling, I’m not Mr. Bianchi. I could pretend otherwise, but it would be an insult to the man himself, and myself. My name is Russo. Tony Russo. I work beside the big boss, and I am holding a party. Just as I said.”

He nodded toward the card. “Next week. You’ll receive your invitation, and you’ll do what you do best. Smile, exist. Your face does the work for you.” Tony glanced to the boarding house. “An easy job for you, and one I think you will regret not taking.”

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noneedfornamecalling

the-daily-mischief

Mischief smooth down her dress, staring at him with her head cocked to the side. “I’m not aware of who you are or who you work for, nor do I care to. It seems like a waste of your time and mine if you try to tell me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“No thank you, I’m no thirsty.”

“No? Could be fun.” He took a step toward her, his smile turning a little hard. It was intriguing, when someone didn’t know who he worked for, or didn’t possess an ounce of curiosity. It was his experience, however, that women typically–eventually–did what they were told.

“A quick drink, a few laughs…” He stepped to her again, reaching to brush at her hair. “Whatever else happens…” Then, suddenly, he stepped back. “Or, I could just provide company for wherever you’re going. No funny business–scout’s honor.”

the-daily-mischief

Mischief sighed. “I pick the bar, you buy the quick drink, and, if it makes you feel better, I’ll laugh here and there. Though I should be clear, I’d be mostly laughing at you, not with you.” She said quickly. “And I’d like for you to buy my friend a drink as well, though I can assure you, she’s not as pleasant and accommodating as I am.”

noneedfornamecalling

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Tony seemed inconvenienced, realizing that perhaps this particular broad was a little too much trouble. The pretty ones always were–especially before they were trained. He adjusted his cuffs. “I have a better idea.” He said, and produced a card. “You see, I knew I recognized you. Took a minute, but those eyes–you don’t forget those. You’re the Lucky Strike girl.”

He smiled, as though mentally patting himself on the back for his discovery. “You’re a favorite around here, I’m sure. I’m throwing a little party, and I could do with someone like you mingling about. Give that card to your bosses, would you? I guarantee a rate that’s more than fair.”

the-daily-mischief

“I wouldn’t call it demanding. I just know what I want.” Mischief said as she raised her eyebrows. “And I wanted you to stop pestering me.” Mischief took his card, glancing at it and back up at him. “I have a name.” Not that she wanted to give it to this handsome stranger.

“Evelyn Nesbit is, but I’m a close second.” Mischief said, still examining the card once more. “I’m just a bit more approachable.” Except she had a lot more fire in her and a lot less want to be arm candy.

noneedfornamecalling

“No Evelyn. Just you--Juliette. Or do you prefer Mischief?” Said Tony, though this time, his smile had regained its amusement. If only she knew. “If you wanted to bring a friend, I couldn’t begrudge you of that. It is going to be a big affair--rubbing elbows with all sorts, especially the sort with a lot of pull in the city. Nobody would want to miss that.”

Tony tilted his head at her. “If you know what you want, then you’ll know this is the best break you’ve had in a long time. The name Bianchi goes a long way in this town; for your benefit, and mine.” He moved around her toward the end of the alley. “Next week, darling. You’ll receive an invitation in the post.”

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