Ch 11 Women in Love
Steve finished wrapping the dress and handed it to Loki. "Thank you again, Miss Jotun."
Loki flashed him an enigmatic smile that made Steve shudder. "Thank you, Stella. I'll be back for the headpiece tomorrow."
"I'll finish the beading this afternoon," Steve promised, straining to keep his smile from slipping.
Loki took the package and left. Steve glared at his back and went to straighten up.
"If I didn't need this job I'd rip out a few seams so it falls apart in the middle of the club." He muttered to Bucky.
"At least she doesn't throw her dress on the floor and ask me to pick it up like that one broad," Bucky replied.
"Or that one who tries on all the hats and then doesn't buy them because she hates the colors," Steve added.
Bucky laughed and began fixing the shoe display. Steve headed to the back to finish the headpiece. In their spare time, he and Bucky had taken to making dresses for themselves to practice, and he had become quite proficient with a needle. Their lives had been relatively quiet and there had been very little to do except come to work and go out with Butch and Conner. There was something relaxing about just being able to go about their daily routine, but Steve was getting a bit restless. He hadn't expected to find the gem so easily, but now that they had, he was eager to get home. Bucky on the other hand seemed to be content with their situation. Steve was glad to see that he was adjusting, but it also worried him. What would Bucky do when the time came to leave?
He finished the beading and set the headpiece carefully in a box. He cleaned up the worktable and went out front to find Bucky waiting for him. They said goodbye to Mrs. O'Sullivan and walked to the diner for dinner. Taking a seat in their usual booth, they ordered the special. Wednesdays was always meatloaf. The waitress brought their drinks and they sat back to wait for the food.
"Are you ok?" Steve asked Bucky.
"I'm great!" Bucky replied.
"That's what has me worried." Steve took Bucky's hand. "I know I said we might have to stay here, but I was just preparing you for the worst. I'm starting to get the feeling though that you wouldn't mind staying."
Bucky shrugged. "Would it be so bad?
"We don't belong here. We have a life that we have to get back to."
"Why? Bucky asked. "What's so great about it."
"Not much sometimes," Steve admitted. "But it's the best we got."
"Doesn't have to be," Bucky mumbled.
"Buck-"
Bucky looked at him, gripping his hand firmly. "You told me once that if I asked we could just run away, somewhere no one would ever find us. Forget everything and just live our lives in peace. Maybe we don't belong here, but we don't really belong there either. Why not stay?"
"Because you know what's coming." Steve rubbed his thumb over the back of Bucky's hand. "Can you really just settle down with Butch and ignore everything. Are you really telling me that you'd be able to live through the Cold War and not try to stop all the things they made you do?"
"I could try," Bucky whispered, tears glistening in his eyes.
"I can't," Steve told him. "If we're still here in 1945, I'm going to that mountain and pulling you out of there. If I get the chance to stop what they did to you, I will."
"If you do that, I'll never see you again," Bucky said quietly.
"So you see my point," Steve said gently, squeezing Bucky's hand.
Bucky nodded. "There's no harm in enjoying it while we can though, right?"
Steve shook his head. He took his hand away as the waitress arrived with their dinner. He turned his attention to his meatloaf. It could still be months or years before they figured out how to used the gem. Until then, he would just try to enjoy seeing Bucky happy.
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Loki sat on Mulligan's desk, sipping a glass of champagne while Mulligan discussed the latest silk shipments with Flynn and Daly. Loki studied them carefully while Mulligan droned on about damaged cargo. From the gossip in the powder room, most of the girls had been chasing those two for years. They were handsome enough, but he couldn't understand the appeal. They were both reasonably intelligent, but they were too meek to rise above their current station. Those two were destined to remain subservient to one master or another.
"Alright, you go tell those Chinese bastards that if I see another broken bottle, I'll have their heads."
"Why don't you just ask them to pack fewer bottles so they won't break?" Loki suggested. "You can't sell the bottles or the silk if they don't make the trip."
Mulligan tightened his fist. For a moment Daly looked as though he might agree, but Flynn put a hand on his arm to silence him.
"Whatever you say boss." Flynn said quickly, dragging Daly out of the room.
Loki sipped his champagne. Underlings and cowards. He really couldn't see the appeal. Without warning, Mulligan struck him in the face. Caught off guard, Loki toppled off the desk, his shoulder slamming into the floor. The glass flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Mulligan grabbed his arm, almost yanking it out of the socket.
"Don't you ever talk back to me again, you mouthy quiff!"
Loki glared at him but Mulligan struck him across the face. He tasted blood and felt something warm trickle down his chin. Mulligan kicked him hard in the ribs and threw him down on the floor. Loki lay still, clutching his side as he gasped for breath. Mulligan tossed a handkerchief down in front of him.
"Clean yourself up, and don't get any blood on that dress. It was expensive." He paused at the door. "And learn your place or you'll need to start wearing red!" He slammed the door, leaving Loki alone.
Staggering to his feet, Loki leaned against the desk, pressing the cloth to his bleeding lip. He should have been more careful. Mulligan had shown a tendency toward violence before, but sometimes Loki found him so insufferable. It was clear that he had strong armed his way to the top. He had enough business sense to succeed, but he was a tyrant, ruling through fear and force. He was strong, but his pride would be his undoing.
Loki reached in his handbag and took out his compact to examine the damage. His lip was bleeding and an angry red welt was forming under his eye. He closed the mirror and pressed the cloth back to his lip. Mulligan's pride would indeed be his undoing, perhaps sooner than he knew.
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Butch led Bucky through the club to their usual table. He pulled out the chair for Bucky and sat down beside him. Conner did the same for Steve. Bucky listened to the music while he and Steve waited for Conner and Butch to finish their discussion.
"I'm just saying she had a point," Butch argued.
"She did," Conner agreed, "but I happen to enjoy breathing. Maybe in a few weeks, we can bring it up and make him think it was his idea."
"If you boys are done, I need a glass of whiskey." Steve chimed in.
"Coming right up!" Conner signaled to the waiter, trying to hide a grin. "I don't know where you put it all."
Butch laughed. "I still can't believe Murphy's girl tried to go shot for shot with her. He said she was laid up for a week!"
Bucky caught a satisfied smirk on Steve's face. Butch and Conner ordered the drinks as the next singer came out. Bucky watched her closely. She was good, but it was obvious that this wasn't her usual number.
"Doesn't Lola usually do the piano solo?" Steve asked.
Butch looked at the stage grimmly. "I think she's gonna be laid up for a few days too."
Bucky looked at him questioningly. Butch kissed his hand. "Nothing for you to worry about doll."
Bucky decided not to press him and sat back to listen to the music. The waiter returned with a bottle of whiskey for Conner and Steve and a bottle of champagne for Bucky and Butch. Butch poured a glass for each of them. He drank his quickly and refilled it. He seemed nervous about something. When the band returned, he downed his glass and offered his hand to Bucky.
"Care to dance?"
Bucky took his hand and followed him to the floor. Bucky tried to follow the steps but Butch kept stepping on his feet.
"Is everything alright? I don't know what you two were arguing about, but if you're in some kind of trouble-"
"It's nothing like that!" Butch readjusted his grip on Bucky's waist. His palms were sweating. "Daisy. There's something I want to ask you but I don't want you to answer yet."
"Butch, whatever it is, just tell me," Bucky urged him.
"I mean it," he said firmly. "Whatever the answer is, I really want you to think about it. Ok? Whatever you say I'll accept it but I want you to be sure."
"Ok," Bucky agreed.
"Daisy Buchanan. I want to marry you."
Bucky stopped, staring at Butch in surprise. He had expected this might happen, but not this soon.
"Don't answer yet," Butch said before he could speak. "I'll pick you up next Saturday and we'll go out. Tell me then, but just promise me you'll really think about it."
"I will." Bucky stepped in and leaned his head on Butch's shoulder, trying to hold on to the beautiful illusion he had been living. He closed his eyes and listened to the music, as Butch held him.
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Loki chipped off another piece of ice and wrapped it in a cloth. He pressed it to his swollen cheek and poured a glass of wine.
Three months now he had been here, looking for the gem to no avail. He had been optimistic that Mulligan might produce it with enough time, but he seemed to be souring on their romance. Lately the gifts had dwindled and if Loki failed to show extreme gratitude for even the most insignificant gesture, Mulligan grew angry. He had enjoyed his position, but it might be time to consider other options.
He opened the top drawer of his vanity and took out the card that Moretti had given him. He hadn't spoken to Moretti since they met at the party, but he had kept the card just in case. Perhaps it was time for a change.
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When Butch and Bucky returned to the table, Steve and Conner were gone. The waiter handed Butch a note and poured them each another glass of champagne. Butch sipped his and read the note.
"It says they left to go somewhere quiet and he'll get her home safe."
Bucky just nodded. His head was too full to think about that right now.
"I kind of ruined the night, didn't I?" Butch said with a hangdog look on his face.
"It was just unexpected, that's all," Bucky told him. "I do like you, but it's only been a few months."
They fell into an awkward silence as they watched the other couples on the dance floor. Most nights they would have been out there until the club shut down, but right now Bucky just wanted to go home and talk to Steve. He had expected to have more time before this came up, and no matter what he said, he needed to know that he had Steve's support. Bucky finished his glass and turned to Butch.
"Could you take me home? I'm feeling a bit tired all of a sudden."
Butch polished off his glass and laid a large bill on the table. "Yeah, me too."
They left the club and headed down the street, talking about frivolous things as they walked. Neither of them wanted to discuss what was really on their mind but they were both eager to avoid the silence. The walk seemed farther than usual, but they finally arrived back at Bucky's apartment.
"So I'll see you next Saturday?" Butch asked hopefully.
Bucky nodded. "Pick me up at 8."
"Dress nice," Butch told him. "No matter what."
Bucky smiled at him and headed up the stairs. He found Steve at the table, wrapped in his bathrobe with a mug of cocoa.
"You're home early," he noted, hanging up his coat.
Steve took a sip and set the mug down. "Conner broke up with me."