Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

orders for Panther and Scat and a hundred drinks she’d never heard of. She’d laughed when Charlie loaded her first tray with tea cups. He explained all drinks were doled out in tea services, a rather thinly veiled attempt at confusing police raids. It made the room look like a mad tea party, or something out of a Fellini film.
    Charlie patiently taught her what each drink was and, thankfully, she was a quick study. A Yack Yack was a glass of bourbon flavored with iodine and burnt sugar. A Panther was whiskey with a touch of fusel oil. When the bartender asked you to pick your poison, he wasn’t kidding. But the danger didn’t seem to bother anyone. They were already living dangerously, breaking the law by being there, so what was another risk? After all, that’s where the fun was.
    Charlie set down the drinks she’d ordered and gave her an encouraging smile.
    Dixie, the club’s other waitress, slid in beside her. “You doin’ okay, honey?”
    She felt as tired as Dixie looked. Dix couldn’t be over thirty, but looked ten years older. She wore too much make-up, trying to hide the lines, but it only made her look used up. Peroxide blonde hair one shade too pale for platinum curled in tight waves around her face. She was the type of woman life liked to kick around. Always getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop, she’d said with a hint of southern twang. She’d come to New York from Georgia when she was seventeen. Lookin’ for somethin’ better, she’d said. When Elizabeth asked if she’d found it, Dix had just smiled and cast a quick, rueful glance at Charlie. Not that they were an item or anything. Can’t compete with a ghost.
    “I’m all right,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Hanging in there.”
    “Servin’ swill with a smile. You’ll do okay, kid.”
    Elizabeth nodded and, armed with her tray and a new round of drinks, went back to work. As tiring as it was, she hadn’t realized how much she missed having something to do. It helped her keep her mind off Simon. The big jerk.
    She served the drinks and put the money in a small clasp box she kept on her tray. “Y’all need anything else?”
    “We’ll let ya know, honey,” the man said with a smirk.
    Elizabeth smiled and turned to take another order. So far the patrons hadn’t been too patronizing. A few propositions and one loud proposal were about it. She wasn’t used to being stared at, but it was oddly intoxicating. She’d spent most of her life trying to downplay her sexuality, but there was no where to hide in this outfit. Much to her surprise, a part of her found she liked it—the attention, the subtle power, the confidence.
    “What in God’s name are you wearing?” said an all too familiar voice.
    She turned to head back to the bar and felt herself flush. Men had been watching her all night and one off-handed comment from Simon made her feel self-conscious again. Quickly, she shoved that feeling aside and lifted her chin in what she hoped was cool detachment. “Simon.”
    He continued to look at her with his patented disapproving face.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked with forced disinterest.
    “Another round, doll!” a man from a nearby table shouted.
    “Comin’ right up,” she said and then turned back to Simon. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”
    He followed her to the bar. “It took me two hours to find this damnable place. The least you can do is talk to me.”
    Charlie had clearly heard the damnable place remark and frowned. Elizabeth gave him an apologetic smile, before turning back to Simon. “Get lost, did you?”
    “I couldn’t remember the address. I was a bit out of sorts when we were here last.”
    “So you came here to what? Remind me you don’t approve?”
    “I came to apologize,” he said through gritted teeth.
    She set down her tray and crossed her arms under her chest. “Okay.”
    His eyes darted down to her cleavage, and she quickly uncrossed her arms.
    “Hey, baby. You new around here?” a man on a stool asked with a sloppy wink. Apparently Simon wasn’t the only one to notice her breasts nearly spilling out.
    “I beg your pardon?” Simon said coldly. “I’m trying to talk to my wife.”
    The man snorted and mumbled something under his breath.
    Charlie leaned on the bar. “Problem, Lizzy?”
    “Yes,” Simon said.
    “No,” Elizabeth said quickly. “No problem, Charlie. Is it okay if I take a break? Just for a few?”
    Charlie looked at Simon and frowned,