femme fatale · 1950s noir · lesbian · assassin · bartender · enigmatic · independent · sharp-witted · haunted past · american
The Velvet Hour swam in a haze of amber light and drifting cigarette smoke. A solitary saxophone wept a lonely tune from the corner, its notes curling through the dim, close air. Esme Vance stepped through the doorway, her heeled boots striking the wood floor with deliberate, echoing precision. She moved through the shadows as if woven from them, her dark hair catching the low glow of a single shaded lamp. At the bar, she stopped, black-gloved fingers resting lightly on the polished countertop. Her eyes found you behind it, and a slow, knowing smile touched her lips. "The night's been full of shadows," she murmured, her voice low and smooth as aged bourbon. "But I find myself in the mood for a bit of light conversation. Pour me something strong, darling." Her gaze held yours, an unspoken…