𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

THE POISONED TASTE OF tobacco from the cigarette in-between Evelyn's lips calmed her unsettled nerves as her crystal blue eyes glanced around the ballroom. She watched as people danced, men swinging women around in circles – her brothers bustling around with smiles on their faces. It was a rare sight.

Evelyn's nephews; Karl and Charlie, were perched on her knees as she mindlessly bounced both boys up and down, getting lost in her own thoughts. Tommy had invited the whole family and many benefactors to his wife Grace's charity ball –and the party was certainly in full swing.

Ever since she was young, Evelyn hated galas. She wasn't sure what triggered this utter loathing for an event that was meant to be full of joy; perhaps it was a repressed memory from her childhood – but all she knew is that she couldn't stand attending them. This being the reason that she had taken it upon herself to nanny her nephews for the night at the back of the room.

"Eve," a calming voice snapped the girl out of her thoughts; her aunt Polly. Plucking the cigarette out of her nieces lips, the older woman stomped it out under her new high heels before picking Charlie up off Evelyn's lap. "Here, put Karl on his feet."

Doing as instructed, Evelyn lifted Karl and placed the young boy on the ground as he waddled over to grab Polly's outstretched hand. With a gentle sigh, Evelyn stood up at her aunts impatient expression, brushing back pieces of her curled brown locks that had fallen over her eyes. 

"Go grab yourself a drink," Polly muttered, nodding towards the bar at the back of the room. "Preferably something strong, you look like I just fed your poor soul horse shit."

A genuine laugh spurred from the young Shelby's lips and with a wave to her nephews, she walked over to the bar; her green dress fanning out behind her. Tommy's house was luxurious, with as many rooms and hallways as a palace – Evelyn knew if she tried to escape the ballroom she would easily get lost.

With that thought in mind,  Evelyn ordered herself a whiskey – the bartender immediately pouring her drink when he saw who asked. His hand shook a little as he placed the half-filled glass in front of her, but a overly happy smile beamed on his face. 

"For you Miss. Shelby," he praised her name and if Evelyn wasn't paying close attention she wouldn't have noticed the slight tremor in his voice. Picking her glass up, Evelyn slightly tipped it to the man, watching the small beads of sweat begin to gather along his hairline. Evelyn brushed it off to him being nervous around a Shelby who he knew could definitely kill him if she wanted to.

"Thank you, Mr..." She trailed off, waiting for him to introduce himself.

The man was handsome and couldn't be too much older than Evelyn who was a mere twenty-three. His curly hair was unruly and stuck out in all directions and his brown eyes shone under the dim lights. Evelyn would've found him attractive, if she had time for romance.

"Frank," the boy stuttered, his American accent noticeable as he nodded in her direction. "My name's William Frank, Miss."

"Well, thank you Mr. Frank."

William offered Evelyn a quick grin, before rushing away to serve a balding man at the end of the bar. Picking up the glass of whiskey in front of her, Evelyn downed the whole thing in one gulp before slamming it down on the counter; her eyes shutting. She tried to drown out the sound of laughter going on behind her, but it was becoming increasingly harder the more she focused on removing the stimulus. 

"If yer' hold that glass any tighter yer' gonna break the fuckin' thing," Jumping at the sudden voice beside her, Evelyn looked down to her hand gripping the glass that was certainly going to shatter before turning her head setting her sights upon none other than Alfred Solomons himself. There was a hint of a smile behind his beard, a curious gaze in his eyes.