A/N: My thank yous to Team Jazzward for your help with this chapter. xx

DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, but if you're here, you knew that already. ;)

-FONO-

I hurry through my evening meal, knowing I may need some digestive tablets later, but want to get to the club early hoping to hear Miss Swan sing. For once, my timing is perfect as I catch the last song she's rehearsing with a group of musicians who I recognize as the Sam Uley Jazz Band. I take a seat on a stool at the bar, not getting Jimmie's attention, as he's completely entranced by the woman taking center stage.

When she opens her mouth after the first notes play, her voice is like nothing I expect. It's seductive and smooth as she croons a swingy song about an irresistible woman who always gets what she wants. There's a call and response as she sings, and while the band plays the response, I can imagine her with several backup singers echoing her lyrics. I'm not the only one captivated by her swaying hips and sultry vocals as the song continues. Looking around the room at those in attendance, it's clear she possesses witchcraft, because I doubt there's a man here who isn't under her spell or wouldn't give in to her every desire at a moment's notice.

As the blast of the last brass flourishes and the final beat rings out, I fight the urge to clap, but look on as she smiles, turning around to thank each band member. I don't miss how some men linger a little longer than others do, putting Felix on alert. He moves closer to where she's standing, sending a clear message they need to keep their hands and ideas to themselves where she's concerned.

Mike walks over to the bar, beaming with pride and a new confidence in his step. "Wasn't she great? Oh, man, she was great. What a doll! I can hardly wait for Saturday. Give me the usual, Jimmie."

"She sounds good," I concede, but my eyes never leave Miss Swan as she prepares to depart.

"Looks like a Sheba too. I wouldn't mind a private showing of those gams." Jimmie grins, pouring a whiskey while Mike waits.

For some reason, his comments about Miss Swan don't sit well with me, and probably wouldn't with her or Felix either.

I shake out another cigarette from my pack of Pall Mall Reds and put it to my lips.

"She sure can be a bearcat when she wants. Butt me, Edward." Mike waves toward my pack.

"Sure."

"I've got to get on the horn. I have a lead on some furniture I need for setting up her dressing room." He leans in, shaking his head. "And now she says we need sound and lighting equipment too."

Her eyes scan the room, landing on mine, and she whispers something to Felix, who nods, watching as she walks toward the bar.

I pat Mike on the shoulder twice. "Sounds like you'll be busy over the next few days."

"Whatever it takes, Edward. I'll do it. I'm going to level with you. The last thing I need is having to explain how her performance didn't work. I don't want any unexpected visits from New York, especially from my uncle. He's as hard-boiled as they get."

"Gentlemen."

Mike's eyes light up, as if he hit the jackpot. "Miss Swan. I know I have plenty to do before Saturday and will be camped out in my office for hours this evening, but I wanted to thank you again. You have a beautiful voice. I hope the band was to your liking?"

"They're great and exactly what I was hoping to find here this morning. But with their schedule, we're going to be rehearsing only in the afternoons. It will save my voice as well."

"As you wish. If you need anything else from me, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Michael."

"I'll be back in my office, if anyone needs me."

Jimmie nods. "You got it, boss. Can I get you anything, Miss Swan?"

"No. Thank you. I'll be returning to the hotel shortly where I have everything I need, but I wanted to ask, do you have a way to heat water for my tea? I normally have a cup or two after I sing."

"Yes, ma'am. We do."

"Good. Once I step off stage following Saturday night's performance, would you please see to it that my teapot is filled with enough hot water for two cups of tea and returned to my dressing room?"

"Sure thing, Miss Swan. I'll prepare and deliver it personally." Jimmie winks with a nod before walking toward the other end of the bar where he pours drinks for two waiting band members.

At his departure, her eyes dance over to where I'm sitting. "Your Chopin was lovely."

"Thank you." I eye her warily.

"I've always found the Nocturnes to be relaxing, especially in the evening or on a rainy day."

Knowing this is probably as good of a time as any, I dig deep, hoping I sound more confident than I feel. "Miss Swan, I have an invitation I've been asked to extend to you."

"Okay. Go on."

"Every Sunday, I have dinner with my former neighbors, the Cullens, who live just outside the city. Last Sunday, I mentioned your arrival, and Mrs. Cullen insisted I invite you for this weekend's dinner. I understand we got off to a rocky start and you are under no obligation to accept, but I wouldn't be doing my due diligence, if I did not pass on the invitation to you."

"Understood. I'll think it over."

"Okay."

"Have a good evening, Mr. Masen."

"You too, Miss Swan."


A/N: Song inspiration for this chapter is "Whatever Lola Wants," from the 1955 musical Damn Yankees and over thirty years beyond our time period. It embodies everything in how I hear Miss Swan musically—a seductive temptress. This song, from Richard Adler and Jerry Ross, was performed by Gwen Verdon in the musical and film (1958) versions, but inspiration for the song came decades earlier from Lola Montez.

As a young girl in the 1800s, Eliza Gilbert was a spoiled, mischief maker full of wild ways, who would go by her stage name, Lola Montez, as she grew older. While Lola pursued a career as a dancer and actress, she struggled gaining acceptance and became a courtesan in Paris, entertaining the favors of many wealthy men. After grabbing the attention of King Ludwig I of Bavaria, she became his mistress. Asserting her influence over the King, Lola was granted nationality in hopes to elevate her to nobility, but she was unpopular with an arrogant attitude and known for outbursts of temper.

Also an interesting note is that Miss Swan is a tea drinker. This is a common trait among vocalists, even today, as coffee contains caffeine, which is a dehydrating agent that can be detrimental to the vocal cords of professionals. We'll learn a little more about her history next chapter, but living in San Francisco influenced her life in many ways and tea drinking is one.

In 1923, the electric kettle was readily available, however, finding a place to plug it in was tricky, since most homes and buildings weren't built with electrical wiring. Electricity was a toy of the rich in the late 1800s. By 1915 only eight percent of American homes were retrofitted with wire into existing structures or new buildings and most of those were found in urban areas. For this story, The Twilight Club and both family estates, the Cullens and the Masens, have been retrofitted with lighting and electrical outlets.

I should have mentioned this earlier, but Edward smokes the same cigarettes his father did, Pall Mall. They were introduced in 1899 as a "premium" cigarette, manufactured for the upper class. The first advertisements claimed they were "strong and robust but meant to be enjoyed with the finer things in life." You're probably familar with the song inspiration for this chapter, but if you're interested in listening to Gwen's original version, there is a link in a separate post on my website, kayrichard dot com.

Thank you for reading. xx