April 19, 1911
Lily, Grace, and Sheila all burst into laughter, chicken feathers flying everywhere, some landing in Rose's hair. She, too, erupted into laughter, causing the girls to laugh even harder. She wiped her sweaty palms down her apron and proceeded to pluck the feathers of the chicken she was working on.
The job was disgusting. At first, she had found herself feeling nauseated at the sight of the dead chickens. The stench was profound, but after two months of working here, Rose found she fit in just right along with the other girls, who were somewhat of a bad influence on her. Fabrizio was there to keep an eye out for her and, of course, Jack visited when he wasn't busy. The girls swooned desperately over him.
Pulling at the material of her dress, Rose found herself hot and stuffy. She couldn't wait to finish, but it was only midday and she worked until eight every night.
“Put the girls away,” Sheila muttered in her Irish accent, diverting her eyes to Rose's ample cleavage on show before laughing. Rose pulled her dress up as much as she could, but still found she showed more flesh than she cared for.
“This damned dress hangs on me.” Rose sighed. “But it's the only size they had at the store. They don't carry sizes for my frame.”
“If I had a body like yours, I'd be flaunting it more than you do, Rose. I'd be dancing down at Burns’ place with Jack.” Grace laughed, winking at Rose, who found herself feeling a stab of jealousy. Since Jack had taken the job fighting, his body had bulked up a lot more and Rose found that almost every girl flirted with him in brazen ways. Maria was the worst of them, now that they worked in the same bar.
“I don't know what you mean.” Rose raised her eyebrows and pretended to not be interested in the subject of Jack.
“Oh, come on, Rose. Ya telling me ya don't want a bit of Jackie? He's gorgeous.” Sheila laughed, knowing she was getting to Rose.
“Don't be absurd. I have no interest in Jack at all…in fact, I find him rather dull.” Rose looked Sheila directly in the eye, not wanting her to know her teasing affected her.
“Dull?” Sheila laughed to herself. “Rose, I don't know what Jack you're living with, but he's far from dull. I find him rather…dashing.” Sheila closed her eyes, picturing Jack in his suits and posh hats with shining boots. “He's a smart man, and he'd look after you, too. If any man came near you, he'd knock them out flat.”
Rose laughed hysterically at her friend’s musings. “Are you kidding me? He spends all his time shining his boots and collecting stupid hats. He has no time for girls, and I doubt he ever will.”
Rose began to walk away. Sheila knew she had hit a nerve and found it amusing. Rose wasn't lying, though. Since Jack had taken the job fighting at the club, he seemed to have lost interest in his friends and spent most of his time spending his money of hats and suits or bulking his body up in some way to try to win fights. He was a good fighter, though, Rose had to admit. He had lost once, to an Englishman, but that was Jack's second fight, and since then he had been on fire and was the biggest fighter at Burns’ place. Every Friday night, Rose and Fabrizio cheered him on. Rose found herself more attracted to Jack than she initially thought she would be, and at times, she thought that maybe he was attracted to her, too. She was the first woman he wanted to dance with, the first woman he hugged after the fight victory and, of course, the times she had caught him glancing at her when she had had to undress in front of him, after he had promised he wasn't looking.
“Oy, Red!” A loud voice interrupted Rose's thoughts of Jack and she turned to see Miller, the ugly creature who ran the factory. He was obviously referring to her hair color. She found him to be rather rude. He stood at around five foot five, which was small for a man. He wore an eye patch because, rumor had it, he had lost his eye to a dart when he was a child. His only good eye was almost black, and his teeth were so yellow Rose thought they must be growing fungus. The stench of his breath was nauseating. “Get back to work now, before you lose today's pay.”
Rose sighed heavily and rolled her eyes at the man, who was only her age, but telling her what to do. Miller grabbed Rose's hand and began to pull her towards her table. “Hey! Get your filthy hands off me!” she cried, attempting to break free. Just knowing the man had touched her was enough to make her want to throw up.
Miller turned and glanced at her with his one good eye. “Did you just call me filthy? That's today's wages gone.” Miller smiled, satisfied, and continued to drag Rose.
“Get away from me, you dirty animal.” Rose attempted to push Miller away.
“You want me to take tomorrow’s, as well? Or do you not want to keep your job? Now, do as I say, little girl.” Rose struggled with the grip he had on her. As he turned, she spat right in his good eye. Laughter erupted amongst the workers. He screwed his face up and let go of her hand. She wiped it down her apron before removing it as if it was diseased. She felt happy with herself now. She wasn't going to let some dirty beast talk to her the way Miller did.
“Keep this week's money. In fact, you can keep the job, you disgusting beast.” Rose threw the apron at him before walking away, leaving the mouths of the others gaping open. Fabrizio had a small smirk on his face, as he himself despised Miller, but only Rose had enough guts to do what all of the other workers only dreamed of doing.
Walking out into the street, Rose tipped her head upside down and shook her hair freely, allowing the chicken feathers to fly out into the air. She ran her fingers through it before throwing her head back once again—to find Jack standing in front of her. She jumped, smiling. Jack smiled back, his eyes traveling lower to her cleavage, which was on full display. Immediately, Rose pulled her dress up and crossed her arms, squinting in the early afternoon sun.
“Hello, Rose. Shouldn't you be at work?”
“Not at all. I spat on the man and walked out.” She smiled, still pleased with herself.
“You're shameless, Rose.” Jack shook his head, laughing. He offered his arm to Rose and she linked her arm through his. “So, do you care for a stroll in the park?”
“Why not? I've nowhere else to go now,” Rose muttered, almost to herself. As they walked, she noticed something different about Jack, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. His arms felt muscled, and she knew just how toned he was beneath his suit. Compared to Jack, she felt like an urchin with her oversized, dirty dress, while he wore a fine gray suit.
“Do you like my new hat?” He grinned. Rose looked upward and recognized that that was why he seemed different in appearance. She rolled her eyes. All he ever bought was new hats and suits.
“Not really, Jack.” She smirked. “And don't you have enough hats and suits to clothe all of Paris?”
Jack walked in front of Rose for a moment before stopping her. “Why don't you like my hat, Rose?”
“It’s just silly. That's all.” Rose stifled laughter. The image he had created for himself certainly didn't suit him at all.
“Can’t you be happy for me, Rose? I'm making money. I've got so much coming in, we can move anywhere we like to.”
Rose walked around Jack. He followed her. “No, Jack. You spend all your damned money on silly attire, which doesn't even look good on you.”
Jack's face turned serious. He hated disagreeing with her, but he was finally happy and doing something which he liked to do. She always seemed to find fault with him. “Rose, that dress hangs on you. When I bumped into you, you might as well have been naked, with how much flesh you were showing.”
Rose's eyes widened. She felt like slapping Jack for the first time ever. But then she thought, Why does he care so much? It’s not like we’re together or anything. Why does it even matter how much flesh I’m showing? Or if I was walking naked down the street? She smiled slightly to herself before proceeding to walk in front of Jack.
“Rose, what on earth do you find so amusing?” he asked, catching up with her.
She glanced at him sideways and raised her eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about how much of my body I show?”
“I…don't.” Jack swallowed hard. “I just don't want men swooning over you. It isn't right.”
“But when I saw you, the first place you looked was at my breasts, wasn't it? And don't deny it, Jack, because I saw it with my own eyes.”
Jack turned a deep shade of red and diverted eye contact from Rose. He couldn't deny it, but her dress was so low it was hard not to take a look. Rose relished seeing him squirm. “Rose, it’s different. I'm your friend, and I don't want other men looking at you and thinking they can have you in any way.”
Rose crossed her arms, listening to him attempting to defend himself. “Jack, it’s my body. If I want men to look at me, then it’s up to me.” Rose uncrossed her arms. Her dress fell downward, exposing her cleavage once again. Jack watched before quickly looking upward to her face. Rose smirked, knowing he couldn't help but look.
“Rose, cover up, please,” he said quietly.
“Why, Jack? I don't like your silly hats and suits, and you don't like the way I dress. We're about even.” Spinning on her heel, she began to walk away slowly, looking back a few times at Jack and smiling. She knew he was attracted to her in some way, but he was obviously shy about it. As she walked back to the house, Rose thought about what Grace had said at the chicken factory that day. “If I had a body like yours, I'd be flaunting it more than you do, Rose. I'd be dancing down at Burns’ place with Jack.” She thought for a moment. Could she really do that? She could dance. She knew that, although this was more kicking up one’s legs to reveal one’s stockings at the bar with the dancers. She could certainly give Maria a run for her money.
*****
Jack heard the sound of a piano playing very off key as he climbed the stairs to his studio, followed by the singing of several women. Running up the last few steps, he burst into the room to find Rose with her friends from the chicken factory, laughing and singing out of tune with a bottle of whiskey in their hands. Jack covered his ears and removed his hat and suit jacket.
“Rose!” he called over her loud singing and piano playing. “Rose, what the hell are you doing?”
Rose stopped playing and stood. She grabbed the bottle from Sheila and drank some of the whiskey. “I'm having a drink, Jack. Do you not like that, either?” She giggled. Grace continued to play the piano while Rose began to dance, wiggling her hips and lifting her arms above her head.
“Hello, handsome.” Lily leaned over the piano and winked at Jack. Her blonde curls flowed down her back. Jack swallowed a little awkwardly and simply smiled a quick smile at Lily. “Are you fighting tonight?” she questioned him, attempting a seductive voice.
“No, I'm not,” he responded. The door opened and Maria walked in. Her brown eyes widened as she saw Rose and her friends. Lily backed away from Jack and sat at the piano with Grace, while Sheila danced with Rose. Lily hated Maria with a passion. She was just a whore. She didn't understand why men chased her.
“I wondered who was making all of the noise, and here I find this.” Maria smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and watching as Rose and her chicken-plucking friends made a nuisance of themselves. “Great fight last night, Jack.” She grinned and he nodded.
“It was great. Seventy francs I was paid last night, Maria. Seventy!” He shook his head, still in disbelief himself. “Friday’s the next big fight. Some guy named Eagle from England. Burns said he's kind of big.” A hint of worry was in Jack's voice.
“Eagle? Hmm. I remember him, Jack. Go for his knees and ankles, his weak spots. The last time he was here, he went down like a lamp. Apparently he had some sort of accident. He's big on top, but weak at the bottom.”
“Thanks for the tip. I'll use that now.” Jack felt a little more at ease now. Friday was the big fight, and there was more pressure on him than ever.
A scream came from Rose. The piano stopped playing and Jack rushed into the parlor from the kitchen to see Rose laying on the floor in hysterics. Quickly, he shooed the other girls out of her way and picked her up in his arms, laying her on the sofa.
“Look at those big, strong arms.” Lily leaned her head on Sheila, who just grinned.
“All right. Look, I've had enough of this now. I want you all to go. I don't want Rose hurt.” Jack pointed to the door. A serious look fell across the girls’ faces. “Go on. Scoot. I'm not letting this happen again. You're like a bunch of animals.” Turning his attention back to Rose, he gently touched her porcelain skin. Her face was flushed and her eyes bloodshot. She had long since stopped laughing. Blood ran from the side of her face. “Shit!” Jack cursed. He quickly ran into the kitchen to find something to stop her bleeding.
“Is she all right?” Maria asked as she closed the door. Jack turned to see her still there.
“She's fine. I think you should go, too.”
“But why? I just got here.” Maria laughed. Surely he wasn't asking her to leave to tend to a small cut on Rose's head.
“I know. I'm sorry, but I'll talk to you later. I'll come by the bar,” Jack told her, but obviously he didn't have any intention to. He came back to Rose's side and pressed an old shirt onto the side of her head. Her face screwed up in pain. He grabbed her left hand, stroking it softly.
“It’s all right. I'm all right.” Rose attempted to sit up, but couldn't. Maria looked at her pitifully. She was drunk and stupid. How could Jack seriously see anything in this girl?
“No, you're not. Lay down,” Jack ordered. She did as he told her. “Maria, I'll see you later.”
Shaking her head, Maria opened the door. “If you deny to me anymore, Jack, that you want her…then you're a liar.” With that, she slammed the door and Rose moaned, the bang causing her head to throb. She heard what Maria had said, and wondered if Jack really did want her. She felt foolish for drinking so much. It was all an attempt to get Jack's attention, but for all the wrong reasons. He obviously did care about her.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling with concern. Wincing slightly from the pain, Rose attempted to shake her head as a sign that she wasn't all right.
“I think I hurt my ankle as I fell, and I banged my head on the shelf.” Rose lifted her hand to her head and touched it carefully, so as not to cause herself anymore pain. “I feel so stupid,” she admitted, still feeling the effects of the alcohol. Jack's face was close to hers. All she wanted was for him to kiss her.
“Don't feel anything. Just don't do it again. I'm sorry for today and what I said about you…showing too much of your body.” Jack felt himself blushing. Rose smiled. “I just don't want you to end up hurt again or touched in any way you shouldn't be, like Eric did. You don't deserve it, Rose.”
Jack took off his shirt and applied pressure to the cut on Rose's head with it. She watched his actions and saw his body, how built up and well-muscled he was compared to the way he had looked just two months ago, when they first met. She liked the way he cared for her and looked at her like he didn't seem to look at any other girl.
“Jack? Do you think I'm beautiful?” she asked shyly.
Jack felt his heart almost stop at her question. He realized just how close their faces were. He could feel her breathing on his cheek, which caused him to shiver. He didn't know how to answer her question. Of course he thought she was beautiful. But she wasn't just beautiful. She was absolutely everything to him.
He traced his fingers over her cheekbone before stroking her hair softly. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on in my entire life,” he whispered to her.
She touched his face softly and smiled, feeling the effects of the alcohol and the effect he had on her come together. As her stomach churned, she found herself leaning closer to his lips. She parted hers slightly.
As their lips met for one split second, the door burst open and Fabrizio walked in, singing a song in Italian, which made Jack and Rose immediately burst apart, their moment ruined.