The Laughbox

Gloria twirled into the bar, her skirt swirling around her knees. Marcie trailed in after her, glancing at her watch. Just after noon, perfect.

"It's so cozy in here!" Gloria trilled, her hair bobbing as she moved. It was a spacious place, a large dance floor, mahogany tables and counters, and burnished orange coloured fabric on the booths.

"It's nice," Marcie agreed, crossing her arms. "Seeley ain't no bluenose though, that's for sure."

"We did give her until twelve thirty," Gloria reminded her partner, taking a seat at one of the booths, the lamp swinging gently above her. Marcie sighed and tapped her foot.

"I have other work to do. Payroll's got to be updated, and this gin mill ain't exactly top of my list right now." Marcie sighed, as a skinny young woman bounced into the bar, short black hair pinned in curls. Despite it not being the evening, she was dolled up in a dark purple tassel dress, and a thick jeweled necklace sat at her throat.

"Bouchard and Armstrong I presume?" the woman asked, her thick Chicago accent marring her speech somewhat.

"Ivy Seeley, nice t' meetcha!" Gloria crowed, standing up to run over to the woman, pecking her once on each cheek. "You've made this old place real ritzy!"

"Did what I could," Ivy grinned, as two men walked in behind her wearing almost identical pinstripe suits. "My boys, the Stoll brothers, helped a bit."

Gloria winked at the one on the left, who turned bright red under his grey fedora.

"Let's take the tour then." Marcie sighed, gripping her purse as the dark-skinned woman and her associates lead them into the back of the speakeasy.

"They're two great lookin' birds," Gloria whistled lowly, following them. Marcie rolled her eyes, pulled out a notebook, and began taking notes.

"Ya say that about all the boys."