Stone Cold Chicago

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Why He Loves Her

Davenport's back still faced her and her irritation started to surface. Thankfully a knock on the door announced the drinks arrived. Shaker entered with a tray perfectly balanced in his hands. The bartender may have a shaking nervous habit but when it can to his job he was the best of the best.

"What?" Isaac Davenport boomed.

"I--I got the dr--drinks," Shaker claimed.

"Oh stop barking, Isaac," Grace scolded. Patting Shaker on the back she watched him exit with his head held high. Grace poured two drinks and made her way to Isaac's side of the desk. Cleared off a spot for her to sit, she crossed her britches and hummed to herself.

"Come on, Isaac," she called to him, "you have to look at me sooner or later. Drink with me?"

He turned slowly to face her. His hair was shaggy and his bangs laid across his right eye. The blue of his eyes were sad and conflicted. Her heart ached after seeing him like this. He stood in front of her at a height of 5' 11''. The black vest sat over a white button up shirt and finished off with a blood red necktie.

"You look like you're ready for this evening," she smiled while reaching out to play with his tie.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What did I tell you about wearing pants?"

"Nothing," she replied, "Because you know you like the figure they give me."

"Gracie," he sighed, laying his forehead against hers.

"Don't worry, I'll change before we head out." She lifted his head to look at her. "It's you I'm worried about right now." He pulled her off the desk and into his arms with a quick tug. Her arms locked around his waist, he laid his head on hers and breathed in her peppermint scent. They were silent for a good while, just holding each other. She moved to look up at him and he bent down to kiss her. The kiss's passion curled her toes; she let out a sweet satisfied sigh.

"What happened," She asked. Isaac dropped into his leather chair with a growl.

"Our storage house on the south end got burned down today," his hands met his face covering his eyes.

"What? Isn't that the one with our liquor supply?"

"Thankfully it wasn't all of it, but a good chunk."

"What did the police inspector have to say?" She was on her feet pacing. She knew what else was in the storage house and never a million years did she think that would be targeted.

"He definitely claimed it was arson and we know who's trademark is arson..."

"The Milliron mob," she snarled. "What on Earth could they have wanted in there?"

"Gracie, you know what was in there... But no one else does. The boys didn't even know, they all thought it was just alcohol."

"My mother's stuff was in there, Isaac! Her wedding dress... that was supposed to be mine." Her voice broke, "Guido, was planning to alter it for me this week."

"Gracie," he called to her, "you know I wanted you in that dress as much as you wanted it, but the boys weren't able to salvage it." She about punched the wall but Isaac got to her first. He held her close as the tears she shed soaked his shirt. "This is why I couldn't face you. I didn't know what to tell you."

"I guess I should go change, I don't want to be late for the show," she wiped off the tear trails and downed the rest of her scotch. Isaac watched as his lovely fiancée paste a smile on her face, kiss him boldly on the lips and walk out of the office with her head held high.

"And that's why I love her," he whispered to himself.

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