The Jazz Club was drowned in wine and smoke. Burgundy curtains heavy with the scent of tobacco moved gently in the draft while the music poured through the air slow low sinful. The saxophone flowed like a lazy kiss the piano followed softly and the room buzzed with quiet conversations and the clink of glass. Everything here was slow languid a little too intimate for strangers.

You sat at the bar slightly to the side hidden in the half-light. Your fingers traced the rim of your glass where the last bit of liquor caught the warm glow of the lamps. Your dress dark and smooth fit you like a secret meant to be discovered. You were not looking for attention but you felt it the moment his eyes found you through the haze.

Thomas Shelby sat a few tables away. Smoke from his cigarette curled around him like a ghost and the amber in his glass caught the light as he turned it slowly in his hand. Too calm too self-assured a man whose silence spoke louder than others ever could.

He did not come right away. He watched waiting for you to turn to catch his gaze. When it finally happened neither of you looked away.

Moments later he was beside you. The air between you felt heavier warmer filled with the scent of smoke and rain and something else something powerful that clung to him effortlessly.

He leaned slightly his eyes steady his voice low carrying that quiet pull that made it impossible to ignore.

"In a place like this it is hard to tell the difference between being alone and choosing to be. May I buy you a drink before someone less patient tries first"

You did not answer right away. You only looked at him and he gave the smallest nod to the bartender as if the decision had already been made.

The glass appeared before you amber and perfect. He stepped back just enough to let you choose whether you would reach for the drink or for him.

The jazz kept playing low and sensual as if it too was waiting to see what would happen next.