Collared

Obviously I was hurt. Surprised, even, that Margot would bring someone here, leading him like a collared animal.

She was saying something to me, but I couldn't focus. I was lost in my private fuming, angry at this man, angry at Margot...

"Hales, you there?" I snapped back at the sound of her concern and nodded my head at her.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm good. What were you saying?"

"You do look a little feverish..." She glanced at the pale man before she leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Save those 'bed me eyes' for when we're alone, Darling."

I stumbled back in alarm, eyes wide, I'm sure my face would glow in the dark from how hot it felt. "Margot!" I shoved her lightly, angling her away from the man, who was now looking quite pleased with himself, no doubt thinking this reaction was over him.

Margot's laugh instantly washed my anxiety away. "This is Jacque. I met him last night after I left your apartment. He took that rum you like and gave it to some business type then tipped the coppers off. It was rather..." She paused, giving him a look that made my stomach ache, "striking to say the least."

"Jacque Carsen, call me Jack." Even his voice was smooth. I can see why Margot had swooned. Unfortunately his silky smooth voice and perfectly toned arms would not sway me, no sir!

I took his outstretched hand and tried not to flush harder when he brought my knuckles to his lips. Great. He was a gentleman too. My burning hatred for this veritable heart throb was growing fiercely.

"Nice to meet you, Jack." I smiled as pleasantly as I could manage. I hoped he noticed that I specifically did not use the name he asked me to. I couldn't be outwardly nasty so long as Margot was around.

Margot fawned over him, showing him around the bar and booths, casting a knowing smile at me when she made it to the stage. To his credit he seemed to listen to her intently as she prattled on about who does what and why. The way he stalked after her as if he already knew the layout and everyone in the bar was unnerving.

Once he caught me staring. His eyes met mine and that toothy smirk he flashed made my stomach churn. In that moment he felt like a wolf, his sleek body, I maybe did a little looking, did nothing to portray the overwhelming presence he had over me then. He turned his attention back to Margot and the oppressive feeling faded.

I would not let Margot be alone with him. What if he were a serial killer or something? I tried to insert myself between them as casually as I could, earning myself an amused jab in the ribs by Margot's pale finger as she spoke. She didn't seem to be bothered by him whatsoever, or by my intrusion, thankfully.

I gravitated around her until the bar opened. She had this magnetism about her, especially on days like today. Her fiery hair was pulled up in a ponytail and loose strands fell around her face, framing it better than any canvas could hope.

Not often, but occasionally during her excited chatter she would grip my arm with those slender fingers, or casually 'adjust' her dress, giving me a healthy eyeful of her cleavage. It didn't help that she was dressed burlesque for her performance tonight. Every time our eyes met, sparks. I could almost forget creepy guy was even here.

Until six when the bar officially opened. Jack took a seat at the bar, I reluctantly served him a drink, moonshine, who'd have guessed, and engaged him in the smallest of talk. He kept trying to chat me up in between patrons, but he never interrupted or was overbearing in the chatter.

Craig had moved to the main floor by eight, setting one of the cousins up at the door to take passwords. Minutes on the hour before 'The Canary' took to the stage, my palms started to tingle, hot and moist. I dropped a bottle of gin and dove to pick it up as she walked out onto the stage.

The second she was on stage Margot sparkled. It felt like staring into the sun, like I'd go blind if I don't look away. She commanded the stage before her mouth ever opened, before a sound ever escaped.

Then it happened. Her voice rang out, clear at crystal even among the jazz band behind her. They quietened their instruments so as not to overpower her high, sultry voice. She shrugged her robe off to reveal that tight dress as she danced slowly to her own rhythm.

She was mesmerizing, and she knew it too. Often our eyes would meet and she'd smile like I was the only thing in the room, and everything would fall away and for those moments she was all that matters.

I'm okay with going blind, Margot, because the last thing I'd ever see is you.