Final preparations
Who: Moira and Anya, then Moira and Dutch
When: Morning
Where: The not-yet open Rock Bottom
Moira swore in Gaelic as the muscle lowered her back into her chair. Whoever's job it was to put the permanent ramps in obviously still hadn't gotten around to it yet. And they'd removed the temporary ones? Someone would definitely pay for that oversight. A woman of her stature, having to be carried into her own business like an invalid. Reaching down, she adjusted the blanket on her lap and shrugged off the bodyguard who attempted to push her chair. "I can do it, you big idiot!"
Reaching down, she began maneuvering herself through the bar, inspecting everything that was being done. The chair was heavy, but Moira was strong enough that she didn't have too much trouble with it. When she'd been given the Rock Bottom to do what she wanted with it, she thought it was a fabulous idea. Her own little Irish pub, where she could take care of business on her own turf. She hadn't realized it would be such a pain in the ass to get up to what even a paid-off building inspector could pass without raising a few eyebrows. The place had been a dump, almost an empty shell, but Moira had gotten everything taken care of by calling in a few favors. Now it was just a matter of cracking the whip on these morons she'd hired to get it into shape. It hadn't helped that she'd spent the last couple of days in bed with the migraine from Hell and she'd had to send someone else to supervise. But she felt better being personally in charge.
"All right, you fuckers, listen up!" she said as she parked herself in the center of the room, shouting with her slight brogue. "You know this place is supposed to be open by Friday night, right? So why the fuck is it still such a mess!" She knocked over a nearby table for emphasis. "This is really fucking important, and I expect that this place be top notch by 7 pm. Or a couple of you might just be goin' for a late night swim, understood?" There were a few mumbles and nods, which didn't exactly please her. She turned and looked at the closest worker to her. "You!" she said, pointing a finger at him. "Your job is to get my ramps put in now. If they're not in by lunch time, you're going to be on a permanent lunch break. Understood?" He nodded and she turned around, wheeling herself towards her office. "I'm surrounded by fucking idiots," she said in Gaelic as she left the workmen behind, her bodyguard following closely.
"Hello, is anyone here?"
"Hello, is anyone here?" Anya called, looking for whoever ran this place. People were scurrying around like chickens with their heads cut off, it was madness. Anya was hoping for a job as a singer here at the pub but at this point she would take anything, she really wanted a job that was legal, something she could do with pride.
She walked to the middle of the bar, curious to see who was in charge of this madhouse.
.
Moira looked up to see the pretty little thing entering the bar. Definitely not one of the workers. Well, this was unexpected, she thought. Adjusting her blouse and blanket, and quickly checking her hair in a mirror, she backed away from the desk and headed out into the bar. "Outta my way!" she ordered to a particularly hairy fellow who almost wandered into her path.
Collecting herself, she wheeled up to the woman and smiled, turning on the charm. "Well, hello there," she said with a grin. "And what might a young lass like yourself be doing in a dump like this?"
Anya took a deep breath to
Anya took a deep breath to steady herself before answering. "um I am looking for a job, I can sing fairly well and i would love a chance to prove it!" she was so nervous. Se really needed this job, she hoped that the woman was as nice as she looked.
Anya desperately wanted to prove that she could do something other than lie on her back. She steeled herself for the instant rejection she knew was coming.
..
Moira looked the woman over. She looked more than a bit nervous. Good, Moira thought. I love watching people squirm a little. She looked around at the workmen who'd stopped anyway, distracted by the sight of a woman who wouldn't rather rip their balls off with her bare hands, then smiled saccharinely at the girl.
"Well, you've got brass, dearie, I'll give ya that," she said as she backed up a little to give her room. "You want a chance? You got it. Prove it." She leaned back as much as her chair would allow and crossed her arms. Either the girl would be good, which would be an added bonus, or she would be horrible, which would be even more entertaining.
"Alright." she said a little
"Alright." she said a little stunned and shocked that she wasn't laughed out the door. It wasn't that she was bad, on the contrary, people told her she was quite good. It was just that everywhere she had gone that morning had shut her down because she didn't have any prior experience.
Taking in a deep breath Anya closed her eyes and then opened them, already poring her soul into the song she was going to sing.
Unsew my seams, look inside if you dare.
Do you still like what you're seeing now?
Secrets and sins all exposed, spilling out.
Am I still safe here on this fragile ground.
Inside out before you now.
Bare these bones and lay me down.
This suicide feels so alive.
Will you take me as I am.
Inside out.
Moving in silence, feel the rush hold me down.
Is this too real what you're feeling now.
Ecstasy rising, giving in, no thinking.
Love will you save me or just turn away.
Inside out before you now.
Bare these bones and lay me down.
This suicide feels so alive.
Will you take me as I am.
Inside out.
Up on this high wire.
I might just come crashing down.
Reach out for me 'cause I am.
Inside out before you now.
Bare these bones and lay me down.
This suicide feels so alive.
Will you take me as I am.
Inside out.
She wrote this song last night as she was thinking about everything that had happened in her life. All of her pain flowed out in the song, all her emotions bared out for another to see. She focused her eyes on her "audience" to see the reaction. The men who were previously working were all staring at her, but they weren't the ones she was truly worried about, she was very worried about the woman and how she would react.
..
Moira actually sat there for a moment, surprised. The girl actually had talent, in addition to her "visible" assets. She wasn't particularly looking for a singer for the club, but she had a hunch that the girl could definitely put a few more butts on barstools. The workers were torn between staring at the girl and at their boss, waiting to see how they should react. Moira let them off easy and gave a slight smile and a few of them began applauding.
"Nice, very nice," she said with a smile, then her face changed a little. She wondered how the woman would handle the next part. "But it's not really our style, is it?" She looked around and pointed to some of the designs on the wall. "It is an Irish pub, after all. D'ya know any Irish folk songs or drinking songs?" She actually still planned on finding a way to use her, but she was enjoying the girl's discomfort.
"Really! I am glad you think
"Really! I am glad you think so. Actually I do know a few Irish drinking songs." she said smiling. she started tapping her foot and clapping her hands to establish a beat and then she started to sing.
"A long time ago, way back in history
When all there was to drink was nothing but cups of tea
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mopps
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops
oh he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
god bless Charlie Mopps,
The man who invented beer
The Jury's Bar, the Clancy's Pub, the Hole in the Wall as well
One thing you can be sure of, it's Charlie's beer they sell
So come on all me lucky lads at eleven O'clock ye stop
For five short seconds, remember Charlie Mopps
One, two, three, four, five
oh he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
god bless Charlie Mopps,
The man who invented beer
A barrel of malt, A bushel of hops, you stir it around with a stick,
The kind of lubrication to make your engine tick.
Forty pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks.
It's only eight pence ha'penny and one and six in tax
One, two, three, four, five
oh he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
god bless Charlie Mopps,
The man who invented beer
The lord bless Charlie Mopps!"
Anya smiled a little at herself, she loved that song when she was little. Her mother was Irish and sang her songs all the time when she was little. they sort of always stuck with her.
..
As much as she wanted to, Moira couldn't control herself and found herself keeping the beat on her leg through the blanket. When the girl finished, she applauded politely. "There, now that's more like it," she said, moving herself closer again. "I'd recommend you brush up on a few more of them, though. Never know what this crowd might want to hear." Turning to her office, she motioned the girl to follow her. "Let's go in here, where it's a bit more quiet." She snapped at one of the workers who was still gawking. "All right, show's over, get back to work!"
"Okay then." she said, a
"Okay then." she said, a little more relieved now that she had gotten over her fears of rejection.As she followed the woman, Anya paid close attention to the way that the woman yelled at her worker,and she made sure that she would keep it in mind, because she knew that people weren't always what they seemed.
..
Moira entered the office, not particularly caring if the girl was following her or not. If the girl wanted a job bad enough, she would follow and Moira didn't need to check. She parked herself behind the desk and without looking up, said, "Close the door, would you?" She adjusted her position a little, then started up. "I'll be honest, I wasn't looking for a singer, really, but you definitely have some pipes on you girl." Now was the time to see if she'd followed. "So, does the voice have a name?" She smiled sweetly, looking up at her for the first time since they'd been in the bar proper.
..
Anya closed the door behind her as the woman had asked, and then she looked anticipatory at the woman. She was very frank, something that Anya appreciated very much, especially in a potential employer.
"Thank you for being honest with me, I really do appreciate it. My name is Anya Ma'am." She said holding her hand out for the woman to shake.
..
"Well, Anya Ma'am," Moira said with a grin that was like a shark smiling at its food. "I'm Moira O'Malley." She didn't think she needed to add much to that- most people knew the name and what it meant. She daintily shook the tips of Anya's fingers as if they were something she didn't want to touch any more than she absolutely had to. "And as I said, I hadn't planned on hiring a singer, so I really didn't budget for it." She leaned forward in her chair. "You don't happen to have any other skills, do you? Things you could do besides just singing?"
Anya laughed when Moira said
Anya laughed when Moira said her name, because she added the Ma'am on the end, instead off her last name. She had just said that to be polite.
"Ha ha, my last name is Moraino, and I can waitress and bar tend as well." she said, grimacing at the memories it brought. That was one of the things her stepfather made her learn early on, bar tending. He would bring his buddies over and tell her to fix them drinks. When he told her to do something she did, she learned whatever it was or she didn't eat.
..
Moira caught the slight change in Anya's expression and noted it. One never knew when something like that might come in handy as well. "All right, then, Ms. Moraino." Moira pulled out a pen and some paper and began doing some math as she talked. "Your primary job will be as a waitress and sometime bartender. I've got another girl, Chinese or something, who'll be doing it, too. But a couple of times a night we'll get you up on stage to do your thing." She pushed a piece of paper across the table to Anya. "This is what you'll be makin', plus tips." She smiled a bit more. "Minus the house's take, of course."
Anya smiled as she took the
Anya smiled as she took the paper, and then looked at the actual number. It was nice, not a huge sum, but definitely enough to keep her standing on her own two feet. She was ecstatic, this meant that she could really make a living for herself, and on top of it all, she would be able to sing every once and a while.
"Thank you, so much! When would you like me to start?" she asked, practically giddy with her new found path.
..
"Well, we open Friday night," she said, leaning towards the door. "Assuming some people get off their fucking arses and get some work done!". She directed the last part out the door and a burly, bearded man scrambled for cover.
Returning her gaze to Anya, she turned the smile back on. "There may, of course, as needed." She allowed her mind to wander briefly to said other duties before continuing. "If you're late, you're fired. And in my book, if you're 15 minutes early, you're late. Discretion is of utmost importance, of course, and if you're caught stealing..." She allowed the comment to hang in the air for a moment before continuing with a predatory grin. "Let's just say that such things are dealt with. Severely." She gave Anya a steely glare, assuming she would get the hint.
"Understood." Anya said,
"Understood." Anya said, gulping at the implied threat.
"Should I have some sort of uniform or anything? And is there any other points you want to clear up?" she asked keeping her tone professional, but on the inside she was ecstatic.
..
Moira smiled. "White shirt, plaid skirt," she motioned to her blanket for emphasis, to give her an idea what she wanted. "And get yourself some comfy shoes, you don't have a fine throne like mine and you'll be up and about most of the night." She leaned forward. "And no matter what the customers do to ya, be polite. If one 'em gives you trouble, either get myself or the bouncer and we'll take care of it. A slip of a girl like yourself wouldn't stand a chance against the crowd we'll likely be gettin' in here."
She leaned back and straighted her blanket out again. "Now, before we make this all official, why don't you sit back and tell me a bit about yourself? Have someplace stable to live? Boyfriend like to rough ya up? Cause I won't have my girls comin' in with shiners." She pulled out a rather expensive cigar and lit it, then offered one to Anya.
Anya took the cigar, more
Anya took the cigar, more out of politeness then need, She lit it and inhaled. It was heavenly, the taste she had longed for, without even knowing it.
"Well, I did have a boyfriend like that, until yesterday." She said smiling. She showed Moira her stitches and ribs quickly and explained them. " These shouldn't get in the way of any of my work. I am a hard worker and I don't make fusses over things." she said earnestly, she really didn't have all that much to tell about herself.
..
Moira nodded appreciatively at the stitches and bruises as she puffed on her cigar. She'd long since gotten past being shocked by such things. In her family, if you had injuries like that, it mainly meant you'd had a good night of it. "Well, as long as it doesn't get in the way. Just keep them covered, and if you get anything on your face, just use a bit of makeup, yeah?" She thought for a moment. "So where are you staying? Someplace with a phone, or where I can send a message along to you?"
"Well, if you need me just
"Well, if you need me just send a message here, I will get it and I will haul my ass down here as fast as I can." Anya said with an easy smile. She had given her her friends address, because it would be a lot more easy to reach her that way, since she currently wasn't anywhere permanent. She internally winced at her foul mouth, but somehow she thought that Moira wasn't the type of boss who minded so much. She thought about the bar, and Moira herself, realizing quickly that she was trading one evil for another, but this was the lesser of two evils, so to speak. She was going to make an honest living, something she wouldn't get arrested for... at least not over the table. She didn't think she would have to be too involved with anything shady, but she never knew what was going to happen.
..
Moira nodded. "Very well then. I'll see you on Friday then, won't I?" she said, giving Anya a dismissive wave to indicate that she was done. "And be sure to get here an hour or so before opening so we can give you a quick bit of training."
"Yes, of course." Anya said,
"Yes, of course." Anya said, seeing that she was being dismissed.
"Goodbye, have a nice day. I will see you on Friday, then." she said with a smile, and then she walked out of the pub, happiness radiating from her.
.
Dutch was no stranger to new businesses around town. He knew the lay of the city, which neighborhoods belonged to who, and when he was sober enough he could walk around and guess pretty accurately at what was being done to the buildings that littered the streets.
He heard things sometimes, a wino muttering over a free drink at the Round, a Bartelucci shooting the breeze as he waited for his car, but Dutch never did anything with the information he found. It wasn't his job. So while he wasn't pushing open the door of the Rock Bottom for any official reasons, he was still curious. A new watering hole that wasn't a piece of glitter like the Drake or the Kitten Club was interesting, after all.
But he was pushing open the door, leaning in it and adjusting his cap as he listened to the faint sound of accents heading away from him. Micks, Dutch mused with a grimace, At least the booze'll be decent. "Guessin' you're not serving yet," he called into the bar at no one in particular.
.
Moira just happened to look up at that moment to see the rough-looking man wandering around the bar. At a time like this, with the opening so close, she didn't need any bloody layabouts. Heading towards him and resisting the urge to gut him like a fish, she began shouting at him, first in Gaelic, then shifting to English. "You stupid little man, get to work! Shouldn't you be working on the pipes or something? The gents' is still backed up, and it's not getting fixed with you standin' there like a lump!" She wasn't going to get any work done today if she kept having to come out of the office to corrall looky-loos.
.
Dutch's brow rose in surprise as he was berated in some strange language, probably whatever tongue the micks liked so much. He had to smirk thinly for being chewed out by a woman who would've been dwarfed by him if she could even stand, shaking his head down at Moira. "Lady," he rumbled, "I run my own joint to save my ears this kinda racket. If I'd known I was gonna blend right in with this lot? Would've worn my Sunday best."
He chuckled coarsely, patting himself down for his smokes and screwing one between his lips, lighting up before Dutch spoke another word. "I was just lookin' for a drink, but I'd recommend you get a plumber if your john's not flowing straight. An unskilled man sortin' pipe is like a Chinaman in a whorehouse; bound to disappoint," he advised with a wider smirk, "And I'd offer, but I don't bring my tools when I'm lookin' for a whiskey."
..
Moira made a mental note to remember the line about the Chinaman, even if she didn't show her amusement. "We've got the whiskey, all right, but it's not flowing yet." She made a motion around her. "Still a lot of work to be done around here before we open up, if you couldn't tell." She gave him a look. He wasn't a worker, he said he owned his own place, but he sure didn't look like much more than a bum. "And there's no freebies in this house, anyways. Come back Friday, when we're actually open, and make sure you've got money on ya."
She made to turn, just in time to see one of the workmen falling from a ladder and through a table. "Of all the stupid, bloody..." She looked at the mess, not particularly caring if the man was injured and more worried about the cost of the new table. "You there, help him up," she barked to a nearby worker. "And tell him that table's coming out of his pay."
.
"Got money," Dutch had started to assure her, just barely flinching when the worker crashed through the table. He scowled at the impact, shaking his head a bit as Dutch looked past the downed men to the general disarray of the work being done on the bar. "You even got a carpenter in here?" he asked skeptically, "Or were you just handing out hammers to whoever could swing 'em?" Dutch wasn't the finest of carpenters, but he knew enough to see problematic work in front of him. Wiring, plumbing, carpentry; the man knew enough of each that he could handle his own affairs nicely.
..
Unfortunately, the man was right. While there were some competent workers on the crew, a lot of them were family members and associates who'd been told that this was what they were doing for a few days. But she wasn't about to let him know that.
"I'll have you know I have complete faith that my crew will get the work done properly." Which she did. If it wasn't, there would be Hell to pay. "Why? D'you think you can do better?" She turned a little more to face him again. "You want to join in, you're more than welcome to, you know." She didn't say anything about paying him- if she could get him to work for free, she would.
.
He snorted back a laugh, puffing at his cigarette and letting the smoke creep down from his nostrils. "More'n'likely," he answered Moira's question, "Can't say I do this sort of work for fun though, ma'am. Like I said, I was lookin' for a drink, not a shift on a ladder. Not a free shift on a ladder, to boot."
It wasn't that he was unwilling, far from it. Dutch had money, but the payments he received from the DiGiovanni weren't money he wanted to spend. He'd left that life behind, and the pay he was willing to use these days came from honest work. "But hell, I'm sure it'll come together. Luck of the Irish to you on that score, ma'am," he told Moira, giving a curt nod as someone behind her cracked their thumb under a hammer and cursed in a long stream of Gaelic.
..
Moira was about to have a snappy comeback for the man- who she'd already made a mental note about in case he showed up again- when she heard the ruckus behind her. She gave the man one final look. "Well, if you'll excuse me, some of us have work to do today instead of bar-hopping all day." She turned and began unleashing a stream of Gaelic invective against the unlucky hammerer.