"Nucky!" She exclaimed with her arms extended, displaying gloved hands and bare biceps for the entire night club to see. Her wrap was too stuffy and dated, not to mention it didn't match the cut of her dress anyway – she'd only worn it out to appease her ever-socially concerned mother.
"Zelly," The tall, gaunt man said in surprise – still accepting her hug in lieu of a proper greeting. They had known each other far too long to be regulated by the etiquette held above the heads of the men and women of their economic stature. "Isn't it past your bed time?"
"Nucky," She replied playfully, slapping his arm with youthful vigor. "I am a young woman now, freshly turned today! Mother promised me that after all the pomp and circumstance I was allowed to finally experience your club at its height. 'Course, she also made my cousin tag-along until I convinced him he'd much rather sit at home polishing his baseball bat than accompany me to some stuffy alcohol joint and just say that he was my escort."
Nucky chuckled, one elbow resting against the bar while the other lagged by his side. Zelda always had a knack of never keeping a thing to herself for very long, including lies, and it was her immature loquaciousness that made her so entertaining in his mind. The mirth in her eyes were pouring out like the gin in the shot glasses behind him and she was slightly elevated on the balls of her feet, fidgeting like she only had a few more moments to experience the club before someone would drag her out. No one would dare to do that, though, save for the girl's family and even they would trust her in his hands.
"And you left your poor mother ignorant of her daughter's doings; does that seem like the proper actions of a freshly turned young lady?"
"Pish-posh," Zelda said, right hand waving in the air as if batting away his words amongst the smoke being puffed out of the patron's fags. "It's exactly the actions of a young lady – to do as she pleases! I've been keen on coming here ever since my brother started coming home in the dead of night, whacked from all the dancing and drinking, not even staying awake long enough for his goodnight kiss!"
"The scandal!" Nucky laughed again. "I'll get mine tonight, though, right?"
"It's tradition! It's my duty as an adult in this great society to uphold tradition to preserve the integrity for the future generations."
"And you chose your first step for conservation to be in a night club?" A second man asked teasingly, stepping up to the pair at the furthest end of the bar from the dance floor. Nucky and the man hugged, before turning toward Zelda who hadn't lost any of her enthusiasm yet.
"Zelda, this is my brother Eli," Nucky introduced the stranger who waited to nod his head in a proper greeting. "Eli, this is Zelda Carnegie-Humphrey – Claire and Greggory's youngest."
Upon hearing her name, Zelda dropped into what only Nucky knew as a mock-curtsey with a glitteringly sincere smile. Zelda didn't have a problem with traditionalism or propriety or being a debutant at all; it was just much more fun to see the reactions of the people who believed to her to be.
"To answer your question," She said still holding Eli's eye-contact. "The only difference between the decisions made here and those of the private dens of all powerful figures is that none of us will be judged on our hospitality meanwhile."
"Here, here," Eli responded with a smirk, raising his own scotch glass. Nucky participated before catching his brother's eyes and issuing a tacit request – Eli politely excused himself, assuring Zelda that he held all of the pleasure of their meeting. Once he left, Zelda turned toward Nucky with a pout.
"How come I never get to play with your friends?"
"Because, Zelly, my friends aren't ones you play with - although I don't believe I have commented on your beautiful dress yet."
However blatant the conversation change was, it worked because Zelda immediately smiled once more before twisting her waist around to make the hobble skirt twist with her – arms held out once more to make sure he appreciated all of the fabric without interruption. "You really do like it?" She asked, between a half-revolution. "It was a birthday present from my Uncle Irvin – he got it all the way from Paris!"
"You don't say," Nucky said finishing off his drink as Zelda stopped twisting.
"I do and I also say that after this stupid war is over, I'm going over there and buying four more just like it and get gussied up every day. "
"'Stupid war' eh, mighty big accusation you"
"Any war that puts my brother – not to mention Jimmy - in harm's way is stupid, just like any war preventing me from traveling is stupid and what luck this war has by doing both! Papa says it's more complicated than that, but he won't bother explaining why and so I maintain that it's a stupid war fought by innocent boys because of mute men."
Nucky had to shrug off the ignorant statement with a laugh before adding "I hope for everyone's sake, your father sits down and explains it to you one day."
Zelda looked over her shoulder at the excitement happening on the dance floor, "Hopefully after the war's ended when we're waiting for me to board a boat to Paris. Anyway,"
Zelda turned to look at Nucky once more, mischief gleaming in her irises. "I did not come here to talk about wars or Paris or brothers – I want to try my first champaign!"
I met Enoch Thompson when I just turned 14; it was an election year and my parents offered to host a campaign dinner in Nucky's candidate's honor. I was three months away from turning fifteen and introduced myself as such – ever since then, he's refused to inform me of his age to counteract my readiness of information. Harmless teasing, I know, which is why I've refused to asked anyone about his birth year to keep the game up – he's one of the few adults to indulge in my playfulness and I would never change that intentionally for the world. It got harder to resist the change as the years went on, though.
It was when I was 16, for four months this time, that I realized I love him. My brother, Geoffrey, had just finished driving our family's newest Model T and rubbing it in my face that I wasn't allowed to drive it. Nucky showed up in his own car, a fancy extended one, and listened as I embarrassingly ranted against my flesh and blood while we drove around Atlantic City. Well he drove – I still wasn't allowed to drive a car, but Nucky had the decency to ignore that fact as I raved. He always managed to show up when I was having a lousy time and not once complained about my erratic rationals for feeling so gloomy. When he dropped me back off in front of my home, before I slammed the door shut, he gave me a stomach-twisting smile and simply said goodbye. Nothing climatic or explosive, just a simple gesture and I had unconsciously thought, sigh and all, "I love him".
The thought stuck with me like a stamp on an envelope, though, and I was too mushy to actually own up to my feelings. He was a friend of the family and worse, he was my favorite adult – I couldn't jinx our dynamic because of a simple crush. Besides, my parents wouldn't be too happy.
My mother, she was the last granddaughter of the Robber-Baron who I affectionately called Great-Grandpa Carnegie. Father always accuses her of giving me her expensive tastes, but it's not even like she was a full heiress. My second cousin - her first cousin – eventually gained most of his company and therefore most of the holdings, although she did have a satisfactory trust fund to keep her, and us, comfortable.
My dad, Gregory Humphrey, was a self-made wealthy man in the butcher business with individual shops up and down the East Coast. He knew the importance of my grandfather's name and decided that we all should have hyphenated names – revolutionary, albeit acceptable in everyone's eyes. It is truly entertaining to see how people react upon hearing I'm related to one of the richest men who ever claimed themselves as an American.
Together, they made a fabulous socialite couple, faster at mastering all of the social norms and more than willing to subject my brother and me as guinea pigs for their idea of a trend. That being said, they always preferred me to marry a respectable man of my own age (my father also stipulated him being self-made, too, but my mother wasn't as concerned with that trait). Nucky was respectable, heck he was the most respectable man in town, but he was simply a family friend, never a suitor, and too deep in the mourning of his deceased wife to ever be considered. There were times when I worried that he only hung around me because I reminded him of the daughter he liked to have had and there really isn't a single time that banished the idea from my head.
It wasn't until I was 18, freshly turned, that I finally foolishly acted on my feelings.
"It's time to take you home, Zelly," Nucky tried to coax a slightly intoxicated Zelda toward the lobby where she could get her wrap and he could escort her home. She was still bubbling from the jig she just danced with one of the chairmen on the board, unknowingly of course, and giggling 'hello's' to couples sitting at the tables. It was only until she was in the deserted entrance that she started to struggle against Nucky.
"No," She said with a slight slur – Nucky had only allowed her one flute of champaign but she was such a light-weight that it hardly mattered. "Geoff always came home at-at half-past and it's, it's only a quart-quarter till!"
A cued hiccup later and Zelda had only managed to wriggle herself facing Nucky instead of being at his side. He still had to take her to the coat check before going home for the night.
"You are not Geoff,"
"I know," She laughed. "You aren't either! But how come he can stay and you can stay and and all of them can stay? What makes them so good? I want to play with your friends!"
"They don't want to play with you," It was a harsh statement for how light-hearted their relationship usually was, but it was unnerving to see Zelda so…unnerved. Nucky didn't like it and wanted the night to be over as quickly as possible.
"Enoch Thompson!" Zelda chuckled, closer to the coat check than ever before and still not grasping the idea that she would not enter the main room any more that night. "I'm sure they'd like me just as much as they like you – even more in fact!"
"Zelda, your mother is probably worried," Nucky tried another tactic while ignoring the truth in her statement, along with the possessiveness that came with it. Once she stated that she wanted a drink, Nucky took it upon himself to keep sober and by that point of the night; he was completely in his right mind.
"She already is! The war and Geoff and Papa not coming home until way past dusk, it'll be good for her to be worried about me for a change. She'd be like you, then."
Nucky managed to get her wrap while keeping her within arm's reach and managed to cocoon her in it. It was a pretty satin thing, but did not go with the pale blueness of her dress and the feel was too distracting. He barely noticed her gripping his wrists as he tried to pass of the edges to her so he could steer her once more out the door until he looked at his hands. He looked back up at her, a lithe young woman with curly auburn hair and blue eyes from her father's side. Pale skin and a distinct chin, she was gorgeous but drunk and not what he needed, he told himself. She looked up at him, though, with her eyes widened slightly and downturned lips parted open as she tried to breathe quietly.
"I love you, Nucky," She said completely slur-free, but as sudden as if she had one.
In that moment, Nucky didn't care what he needed, and allowed himself to dip downwards to kiss her.
She hadn't been kissed before, not properly anyway, and was truly reveling in the feel of the object of her affections on what she thought would be forever the best night of her life. It didn't matter that the kiss seemed to be going on for forever because that's what Zelda wanted in the moment – thankfully, Nucky was sensible enough to break the embrace and look bashful as he stepped away from her.
Zelda was flushed and wanted to ask him why he stopped, but he ushered her out the door without a complaint, explaining that it was too late for her to be out, adult or not.
The car ride was quiet and the silence didn't break until Nucky stalled the limo outside of her house.
"I shouldn't have done that, kid," Nucky said apologetically. He had every intention to repent for his impropriety, but she was quick with a response (apparently more sober than she had been for the last hour).
"I'm not a kid," Zelda looked at him critically. "And it doesn't matter – it was done and I want to do it some more."
She hadn't realized quite the suggestiveness of her statement, but her sincerity in her gaze made Nucky bite back any retort he had.
"Christ, Zelly, we can't – not now or in the future. It was a mistake."
She finally looked away from him – she had been staring at him the length of the car ride, waiting for a sound to come out of him. Toward the house, Zelda couldn't see a single light on besides the outdoor ones, but knew that Yves (their butler) would still be awake the let her in through the kitchen. She rested a gloved hand underneath her chin and wondered if it still counted as her birthday if she hadn't gone to bed yet.
"I still love you, you know?"
"I know"
"And I think you love me,"
"I know"
"But that doesn't mean anything does it?"
Nucky didn't answer; he didn't even look at her. His eyes rested on the empty ring finger on the leather steering wheel. How was he supposed to respond – it wasn't a gain for either one of them to become involved with each other, other than to please what could be passing fancies. Nucky was a gambler but he never considered Zelda something to be anteed.
"That counted as your goodnight kiss,"
Zelda got out of the car, wrap not resting at her elbows, silhouette receding towards the mansion ten minutes out of Atlantic City.
"I know," before the roar of the engine.
A/N: There's something in the character of Nucky that is so...sincere that I couldn't help but think of a story for him. Plus the time period is so interesting to me.
This is to take place in early 1916, so a couple of years before the start of season 1; although that brings up the problem of whether or not good olde Carnegie would be a great-grandpa by that time (or who exactly took over...). I would research it, but this is fiction, it is late and that tid-bit isn't detrimental to the plot so we'll just pretend that he would be.