Natsby 1920s Psychic AU
Nick's apprentice, Jordan, knocked on his door and entered, shiny gloves in all. Nick had known she was coming, had seen her knock on the door before the woman even knew she would. "Nick? He's here."
"I know."
Jordan left, her long black coattails the last thing to leave the room. Nick grabbed his fedora, a dark blue that matched the brocade of his star-embroidered suit. He caught a flash of himself in the mirror, and smiled slightly. The jacket was fitted perfectly, the way he liked it. He whirled away, a self-satisfied smirk finding its way on his face.
Nick didn't expect the client to be so handsome. The man in the chair today wore a suit just as flashy as Nick's - a bright salmon pink with sharp lines and golden buttons. Small gold suns were embroidered on the cuffs. He looked like a sunrise. A beautiful sunrise. Nick flopped into the chair, his legs hanging off and one arm flung around the back of it. He lifted his fedora back off with sleazy elegance. "So," Nick started saying to the sunrise man. "You wanna marry Daisy."
Jay Gatsby, as Nick knew the sunset man's name was, flushed slightly, "The woman-"
"Jordan."
"I suppose. She said you could help me."
Nick knew this too, but he didn't say so. Gatsby said nothing, so Nick stood up, "Do you know what I am?"
He didn't. Nick didn't need the answer from Gatsby to find that out. "I am I seer. A sybil. A psychic. Call it what you will. It doesn't particularly matter."
"But you can help me?"
"Quite impatient. Of course I can." Nick stood up, straightening his suit with the movement. He stalked slowly to the back of Jay's chair, enjoying the faint seashore smell wafting from his hair (and thank goodness nobody was around to see his blush from their closeness). "So you wanna marry Daisy? You ain't got much of a chance. She's a purebred - blue blooded from her first breath. Let's simply say you won't get very far. At least not without me."
Nick whispered the last sentence into Jay's ear, enjoying the slight shiver. Then he tweaked the same ear, sauntering back around to his chair and falling - gracefully - into it. "And all you have to do, old sport, is three teeny, tiny, things."
Jay frowned. Nick knew that he was only expecting to pay money for Nick's help. "But-" Jay interjected.
Nick stopped him before he could continue. "Trust me, old sport, my price is less than any amount of money. I'm simply asking for three things: 1. I want a weekly update on everything she says."
"Isn't that-"
"2. I need the window by that one Madame's sitting room open. That's easy. You can do that."
"Maybe-"
"3! Perhaps the biggest price I'll ask of you - because it's the hardest. If Daisy ever - ever! Gets a little close, a little sweet, a little flirty, and whispers to you-" with that Nick leaned forward, close enough to look as if he's about to fall out of chair, close enough to cause Jay to blush slightly and barely meet his eyes, and close enough to whisper in a seductive voice, "'Meet me under the magnolia tonight if you wanna get a little crazy.'" Nick leans back with a self satisfied chuckle.
"You turn her down flat."
"Surely-"
"No. You dare go down there and you'll wind up dead. There's a reason she's not married - they're all murdered. So if you wanna marry Daisy, you do as I say, and I'll have you kissing at the Ritz." He spread his hands in an arc, as if introducing a whole new world.
Nick finally allowed Jay to have his word, relaxing back into his armchair and put his fedora back on gracefully, allowing the brim to cover his eyes.
