"Hey, big guy. What's your pleasure?" The bar girl greeted him with a Texan drawl and a grin.
It was a low-down, dirty place. It was just the sort of raunchy bar you would find in the old detective movies with the private eyes who always end up with the girl named Friday in the big, floppy-brimmed hats. Only, those movies were always too melodramatic for his tastes.
"Get me a gin, on the rocks babe."
"Sure thing, Mr. Olsen. Are you sure I can't get you...anything else?"
He shook his head and yanked the brim of his fedora down over his eyes. Something was bothering Mr. James Olsen. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was, it made him feel strangely uneasy. The tune of some old jazz/blues song meandered through the smoke and the buzz of the crowd as Mitzi returned with his drink.
"A gin on the rocks for Mr. Jimmy Olsen." She smiled and waved him off as he offered her the customary amount of cash. "Drinks are on me tonight, Jimmy."
He took the drink and tossed a few coins on the bar. "Thanks. Didn't we have the talk about you calling me 'Jimmy'?"
"Yeah, but I never listen. 'Sides, James is too formal for a guy like you. If someone called me Mary Jane, I'd probably die of embarrassment. I like to think we're a lot alike, you and me, Jimmy. Otherwise, how in hell would two class acts like ourselves end up in a dive like this?"
James laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
The bell above the barroom door chimed as a stranger entered the scene. She was young. A bit short, but still considered pretty enough to merit an invitation for drinks from several of the bar's patrons. She walked with an air of confidence and maybe even a touch of haughty pride. It was obvious to all who came in contact with her that she was far above this place.
Jimmy Olsen frowned. He now recalled what had been bothering him. It was the Luthor bride. Once Chloe Sullivan, investigative reporter extraordinaire, she had since taken on the name of Luthor and given up her lust for answers for a lust for other things. Most of which could not claim to be quite so honorable. He pulled his hat even farther down his brow.
"Mr. Olsen, I presume?"
He glanced up. It was too late to run. "That's what Mitzi here calls me."
The nouveau riche blonde gave the barmaid a scrutinizing glance and then turned away, obviously done with her. "I came here to talk to you, Mr. Olsen. I've been trying to get a hold of your office for weeks. Finally, I got one of your people to tell me that you hang out around here most nights. I have a job for you."
"How much did you pay her?"
"Excuse me?"
"My secretary. Did you promise her the moon? The stars? Or did you maybe just tempt her with a cushy job up at Luthor Corp?" He took a sip of his gin, not looking up.
She straightened her shoulders. "I have sources, Mr. Olsen. I have never stooped to using my husband's tactics to get the information I need."
He nodded. Fair enough. So, she had her morals. "And what could you possibly need from me, Mrs. Luthor?"
"I need you to track someone for me." She glanced around uneasily. "Here. I have the information you'll need to find him. Do whatever you can, money is no object."
"I know. Not for you Luthors."
She pursed her lips and stood up. "Look, if you're not going to help me, I'll leave. I came to you because I heard you were the best in Metropolis, but I'm sure I can find someone else who doesn't have a grudge against my family to do the job." Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered with anger as she shoved her way through the crowd.
