Speakeasy

by M. J. Wiliamz

  “Franco doesn’t like a woman running her own gang.”

  “Franco thinks women are for fucking only.”

  Helen was immediately taken aback at Maria’s vulgarity, but then laughed.

  “I guess he would.”

  “Is there somewhere we can go talk?” Maria asked.

  Helen’s heart skipped a beat. “Sure. We can go to my office.” She turned to Kevin. “Keep an eye on things.”

  She ignored the pointed look Kevin gave her and quickly escorted Maria past the bar and into her private office.

  “Have a seat. I’ll pour you a drink.”

  Helen’s office was bigger than the rooms the girls upstairs used. It had a full bar along one wall, a leather couch along the other, and two loveseats. End tables by the couch had bronze table lamps with petal shades. It was masculine but comfortable, and Helen was happy to share it with Maria.

  Maria sat on the couch and gratefully took her wine. Helen sat next to her.

  “What did you want to talk about, doll?”

  “I just wanted to get away from the crowds. It gets tiresome. You know, always being around a lot of people. Sometimes I like to be in a quiet place where I can hear myself think.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “It does? You feel that way? ’Cause Franco always has to be in the middle of some going on or other.”

  “I cherish my quiet time.”

  They sat in silence for a minute.

  “I’m a little confused, doll. One minute you’re giving me the bum’s rush and the next you’re at my bar in my office with me. What gives?”

  “I’m sorry,” Maria said.

  Helen waited. When Maria said nothing else, Helen prodded. “You can see why I’m confused, though, right? Next time I see you, how will you be?”

  “I’ll try to be nice. I guess I got scared.”

  “Scared. Why? Have I ever been anything but nice to you?”

  “Maybe you’re too nice.”

  “What does that mean?” Helen asked.

  “You always make me feel like I’m someone special when I’m around you.”

  Helen’s stomach flip-flopped. She wanted to tell Maria what a delicate flower she thought she was and how special she deserved to be treated.

  “So maybe I liked it too much,” Maria continued.

  “You should always feel special. Moretti don’t deserve a gal like you.”

  “See? You’re doing it again.”

  “Should I be sorry? Because I’m not. And I won’t apologize for telling it like it is.”

  Maria reached out and cradled Helen’s jaw. Helen saw a longing in the brown pools of Maria’s eyes. She licked her lips, uncertain of what to do. As Maria caressed Helen’s cheek, Helen bent forward. Her mind told her to stop, but her body urged her onward.

  The banging on the door brought her to her senses.

  “What gives?” she called.

  “Moretti’s boys are here. They’re looking for Maria,” Kevin answered.

  Helen stood. “How did they know you were here?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Well, someone knew, damn it.” She placed their drinks on the bar and opened the door.

  “Sorry, boss,” Kevin said.

  Maria stopped in the doorway. She kissed Helen’s cheek before rushing out to greet the men.

  “You may have really fucked up this time,” Kevin said.

  “Why? I didn’t bring her here.”

  “Not to the bar. But you took her to your office.”

  “Nothing happened,” Helen was happy to say honestly.

  “You two sure looked guilty as hell.”

  “That’s your dirty mind, Kevin. I’m telling you nothing happened. We talked is all.”

  “Well, I hope talking is all Moretti does to her.”

  “You said it, Kevin. You said it.”

  Chapter Seven

  The phone in the hideout rang and Helen got up from the poker game to answer, assuming it was one of her men. It was one of the barbers.

  “What’s up, Brian?”

  “There’s some lady here. Says she knows you.”

  Helen’s heart skipped. What woman would know to find her at the barbershop?

  “Who is she?”

  “Says her name’s Maria and she needs to talk to you.”

  “I’ll be right up.”

  Helen hurried to the barbershop, hoping Maria was okay. She found her shaken, not at all her usual sassy self.

  “What are you doing here?” Helen asked.

  “I needed to see you.”

  “So I hear. Come on. Let’s get a cup of coffee.”

  She steered her out of the shop and down the street. They walked into a small coffee shop and Helen signaled to the owner for two cups. She sat with Maria at her usual table in the far back.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Franco was really mad I went to the Beaver by myself,” Maria said.

  “And you think he’s going to be happy you came here?”

  “No. He thinks I’m going to double-cross him.”

  “You’d never do that.”

  “See? You understand me. He doesn’t.”

  “So what gives, doll? Why would you take a chance and come over here?”

  “I had to see you again.”

  Helen shook her head, her mind a jumble of racing thoughts. She was thrilled Maria wanted to see her again, but scared for her. She didn’t want Maria in trouble with Moretti. She knew Franco had a temper.

  “Sometimes a girl needs to be with other girls, you know?” Maria said.

  “Surely there are Outfit molls you can do things with,” Helen suggested, unsure of how to proceed. Part of her wanted to tell Maria to ditch Moretti and be hers, but if Maria was only looking for friendship, she had to tread lightly.

  “They’re not the same. All’s they talk about is the latest dance moves or their makeup. You’re different.”

  “I run my own outfit, so sure I’m not a moll. But Franco’d probably be happier if you stayed with them.”

  “So you don’t want to see me?” Maria extended her lower lip, and Helen’s crotch clenched. She longed to take that lip between hers.

  “I just don’t want you getting in trouble.”

  “You afraid?” The old, spitfire Maria was back.

  Helen threw her head back and laughed.

  “I’m not afraid of nothin’.”

  “Then let’s go do something.”

  Helen hesitated only a moment. “Sure, doll. Let’s catch a show.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I’ve been wanting to see Charlie Chaplin’s latest. Let’s go find a matinee.”

  “That would be swell,” Maria said.

  Helen threw some coins on the table and guided Maria down the street to her car.

  “So what does Franco think you’re doing today?”

  “He thinks I’m shopping. He won’t care. As long as I’m ready to go to Gattino’s at five, he’ll be fine.”

  Helen drove to her favorite theater and paid for herself and Maria. They settled into their seats and watched the movie. Helen was beside herself to have this time with Maria. It was almost like a date, something she hadn’t been on in years. She tried to relax and enjoy the movie, but was completely focused on Maria beside her. When Maria reached out and took her hand, she was aroused and confused. Maria clearly didn’t know that she was playing with fire. Or did she?

  The movie ended and Helen was sad to feel the weight of Maria’s hand leave hers. They drove in silence back to the barbershop, where Helen hailed a cab for Maria.

  “When will I see you again?” Maria asked.

  “I don’t know. You need to be careful with Franco.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks for today. That was fun.”

  “Sure thing. We’ll do it again some time.”

  Maria slipped a piece of paper into Helen’s pocket as she climbed in the cab. Helen waited u
ntil it was out of sight to find out what the paper was. It was Maria’s phone number. She couldn’t get the smile off her face as she walked around back to headquarters.

  “Where you been, boss?” Kevin asked. “You left in a hurry.”

  “I had a friend stop by. We spent the afternoon together.”

  “Anyone we know?” he asked.

  “Nobody important.” Helen lied. “Let’s go to the bar.”

  *

  March arrived and the new speakeasy was close to being finished.

  “You guys been spreading the word about Lucky’s opening on the seventeenth?” Helen asked her lieutenants.

  “We’re expecting quite a crowd,” Marty said.

  “That’s what I want to hear. I want green beer and Irish music. I want it to be a Saint Patrick’s Day party the likes of which Chicago has never seen. Are the girls all set to work?”

  “We’ve got ten new gals who’ll be upstairs. You’re going to like them, boss.”

  “I’m sure I will. But remember, that first night they’re for the customers only.”

  “Yeah, we know.”

  “Kevin, did you get the marijuana and the hashish lined up?”

  “We’re all set, boss. It’s going to be a smash.”

  “Excellent. Well, let’s go to the Beaver and have a few while it’s still our only watering hole.”

  Helen strode into the bar with one hand in her pocket. She rubbed the paper between her thumb and finger. She had the number memorized, even though she’d never called it. Still, she kept it with her, telling herself she’d throw it away tomorrow. Always tomorrow.

  She hadn’t seen Maria since the movies, which she knew was her fault. The next move was hers, but she’d been so busy. She hoped Maria hadn’t given up on her. She reasoned she’d probably been busy with Moretti anyway. Johnny Torrio had been arrested, so Al Capone was solely in charge of the Outfit. As Al’s right-hand man, Moretti had to have taken on more responsibilities of late.

  The bar was fun and the guys were all getting loose when Moretti, Maria, and some of his men walked in. Helen’s men were immediately on alert, and Helen stiffened at the sight of Maria on Moretti’s arm. She wanted her for her own.

  “To what do we owe this visit?” she asked coolly when they reached her table.

  “Word spreads fast in this town,” Moretti said, sitting next to Helen. Maria sat on the other side of him, and Helen wished they’d switch seats. She wanted to sit next to her.

  “Yeah? What are you hearing?”

  “I’m hearing you’re opening a new place.”

  “Free enterprise.”

  “You’re just asking for trouble,” Moretti said.

  “How do you figure? It’s one more gin joint in town. We’re not hurting you.”

  “You’d better not. We’ll be keeping an eye on it. Just know that.”

  “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy?” Helen asked.

  “I stay busy watching the competition.”

  “Well, then maybe you had better keep a closer eye on me.” She stood and walked over to Maria. “Shall we dance?”

  She smiled as Moretti struggled to maintain his composure while Maria stood and took Helen’s hand.

  “How come you haven’t called?” Maria asked.

  “Sorry, doll. I’ve been really busy.”

  “Sounds like it,” Maria pouted.

  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, though,” Helen said.

  “Yeah? That’s nice to hear. I think about you all the time. Can we go to another movie sometime maybe?”

  “You’re really trying to piss ol’ Franco off, aren’t you?”

  “No. He’s just so boring compared to you.”

  Helen beamed at the compliment. “I promise I’ll call you and we’ll do something. But I’m not sure how.”

  “Maybe I can go to the opening of your new speakeasy.”

  “That would really get under his skin.”

  “You’re right. I don’t care, though. I’m getting tired of him.”

  “Well, still, to keep the peace, we’ll do things during the day. Maybe go to lunch tomorrow?”

  “That’d be swell.”

  “Okay then. It’s a date. Where shall I pick you up?”

  Maria told Helen her address.

  “You sure it’s safe for me to go there? I bet Franco has your place watched.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’ll be fine. Just honk when you get there and I’ll come down. I’ll be waiting for you. You won’t even have to get out of the car.”

  “That doesn’t sound very chivalrous,” Helen said.

  “No, but it’s safe. So tomorrow at one?”

  “Tomorrow at one.”

  They danced a little more then walked back to the table. Moretti stood immediately.

  “Where’s the fire?” Helen asked.

  “I’ve got better things to do than sit around here. You just be careful, Byrne.”

  “Will do.” She bent to kiss Maria’s knuckles and watched the curves of her hips as she walked out the door.

  “Shit, boss. You’re still stuck on Maria? You’re going to get in a lot of trouble.”

  “What? Moretti doesn’t deserve her.”

  “Well, you deserve better.”

  Helen shot him a look. “Watch your mouth, Kevin.”

  “Damn, kid, you’ve got it bad.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next day at precisely one o’clock, Helen tooted her horn outside of Maria’s room. She lived in a boarding house in the southern part of town. Helen couldn’t wait to see her, but was anxious to get out of the neighborhood to safety.

  Maria came downstairs in a navy blue sailor’s dress that accented her dark skin. She wore a matching hat that all but covered her eyes. Helen thought she’d never looked better.

  “You look swell,” she said when Maria slid in the car.

  “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m taking you to a little place on the West Side.”

  “Well, I expected that.” Maria laughed, a sound that filled Helen with warmth.

  They pulled up in front of a Cuban restaurant that Helen’s gang provided protection for. She knew they’d be safe there.

  She opened Maria’s door and took her hand as she helped her out. Maria did not let go as they walked into the restaurant. Helen held tight to the soft hand in hers as she approached the maître d’.

  “Is my usual table available?”

  “Of course, Miss Byrne. Right this way.”

  He led them to a table in the back of the restaurant with a wonderful view of the garden it was built around.

  “This place is real pretty,” Maria said.

  “Thanks. It’s a favorite of mine.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t too busy today. I’ve really missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, doll.”

  “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Tell me about this new speakeasy,” Maria said in a low voice.

  “Franco should know all about it.”

  “But I want to know.”

  Helen wondered briefly if Moretti was trying to set her up. As much as she hoped not, she opted on the side of caution.

  “Let’s not talk about work.”

  “Fine,” Maria said. “Tell me about young Helen Byrne. What were you like as a child?”

  “I think I’d rather talk about work.”

  Lunch passed quickly, too quickly for Helen. She wanted to spend more time with Maria.

  “I’d like to see you again,” she said as she pulled up in front of Maria’s apartments.

  “I’d like that. Call me.” Maria kissed her on the cheek.

  Helen fought the urge to pull her to her and kiss her on the lips. She wanted Maria so desperately.

  “You sure you know what you want?” Helen asked.

  “I think I do.” Maria winked and let herself ou
t of the car.

  *

  Helen was dressed in a black suit with a Kelly green shirt and a green carnation boutonniere. She knew she looked good and felt good as she strolled into Lucky’s with Kevin for its grand opening. The place was jumpin’ and Helen felt a sense of pride at all the hard work her men had done to get it ready and open.

  She recognized many of the patrons from the Golden Beaver, but was pleased to see a lot of new faces. She assumed they were from the neighborhood, and she liked that her gang had been welcomed. She knew they’d been receiving protection money from most of the businesses, but that didn’t always mean they were liked. The showing at Lucky’s said something, to be sure.

  Helen grabbed one of the working girls and led her to the dance floor. They danced a set before a beefy gentleman cut in and took the girl from her. Helen smiled to herself as she left the floor, thinking of the money the girls upstairs would be making that night.

  The evening passed gaily, with green beer and liquor flowing. Helen was nursing her drink at her table when Moretti and Maria walked in surrounded by large men.

  She crossed the bar to meet them, rather than wait at her table.

  “We don’t want any trouble, Franco. Tell your goons to stand down.”

  “They’re not here for trouble,” Moretti said. “They’re just here to check things out. Same as us.”

  “Come on back to my table then.” Helen took Maria’s hand, and Moretti and his men followed.

  “Did you hear about the crossfire today?” Moretti asked when they were seated.

  Helen was immediately attentive. “What crossfire was that?”

  “Some guys from Weiss’s outfit got in a shootout with some of the boys from the Eastside. Some civilians got killed in the crossfire. The heat has been significantly turned up.”

  “That’s not good. But why are you telling me this?”

  “Just making conversation.”

  “If you’re trying to scare me, it ain’t working.”

  “Not trying to scare you. Just keeping you informed. Thought you might find it interesting.”

  “I’m not interested in going after either gang, Franco. I’m keeping to myself these days. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “You opened a new speakeasy, just blocks from our territory. That ain’t laying low.”