WRITTEN FOR ME ( thomas shelby )

002 ━ Dance with the Devil ..

"Can't really blame you," Jackie shook her head. "Forgetting is much more desirable and anyone who claims otherwise surely has not known the curse of a perfect memory for its truest malice. But back to business—"

"Are we doing business now?" Tommy interrupted, startling Jackie to raise her eyebrows. He was quick to decide that she should meet his faintest smile of amusement at that time.

"You tell me," she prompted him with a huff. "You're the one who approached me for a dance, so tell me, Mr. Shelby... are you a spineless man who's looking to sport more than one woman at a time so he looks good in front of a market enemy, or are you dancing with me out of an entrepreneur's intuition when it comes to a good investment?"

"I heard you sell horses," Tommy decided that the best answer to her all too obvious teasing was the indirect kind. "Purebred."

"You've heard well," Jackie nodded, finally lowering her gaze, away from his, to instead appreciate what their surroundings, ruled by people who couldn't care less they existed, were trying to be. Lavish lights, clicks of crystal glasses, an overwhelming scent of flowers swirling in the air in a desperate attempt to dispell the miasma of horseshit that radiated from the stables.

"Can I see them?" Tommy watched the tightness of Jackie's jaw as it clenched.

"When they arrive," she agreed, rather distant from the question. "If you like horses as much as me, I'll introduce you to them."

"How about you sell me one?"

She laughed, "Oh, Mr. Shelby... you are delightful. But you can't afford my horses."

Though Jackie was first to slow down from their dance, Tommy sealed the discreet gesture by stopping the sway altogether. For the duration of a borderline indecent two seconds that followed, marked under the waning presence of a returning prolonged eye contact with a hint of challenge, their position did not change: his left hand held her right, albeit lighter, his right caressed its way back to her waist. It felt like a rupture had happened when he finally took a step back, be it short, for now there was no connection left between them. At least not for the following second of pause it took Tommy to offer Jackie his arm and walk her back to the bar.

"And Mr. Kimber is the sort of man who can afford your horses, Miss Alloways?"

"According to his accountant's register."

"How much for a horse?"

"It's not just the money, contrary to my brother's belief, but also the buyers ability to do right by the merchandise I sell, so my fame in the area is not spotted by a negligent client." Before Tommy could critique her assumption of him, Jackie hurried to continue onto a different matter, which required that she slipped out of his grip and stopped in front of him instead. They were not quite at the bar and that decent personal space between them has been officially violented on purpose, perhaps most of all by her right hand pressing on his chest. "I tell you what, Mr. Shelby. Since you are so eager to spend money, perhaps I could sell you something else."

"You sell more than just horses?"

"You don't get as rich as I am from farms alone," her smile was coy, for a woman who fronted herself as an open book to anyone foolish enough to believe someone dressed in such fine fabrics could be this dumb. Though Tommy was certain she wasn't lying, he could bet his whole fortune she wasn't saying the whole truth either — which was, he agreed, the smartest thing to do, regardless of whether or not her intentions were detrimental to him, something he was still deciding. "My ships are big and I am resourceful enough to bring you and your men anything you want from my sweet country across the ocean." To his suprise, promptly after her sentence ended, Jackie drew nearer, on her tip toes, and sniffed the air close to his neck shortly before stepping back down and away. "Cigarettes perhaps?"