I didn’t know much about women like Stella, just that you didn’t meet them by chance. Women who looked like Ava Gardner didn’t wander into a place like mine unless they were looking for something. Or hiding from someone. In her case, it was both.

She took a seat in the corner booth, tucked away where she wouldn’t be noticed but still had a clean look at the room. She sat there for a few minutes expecting to be served before realizing the Black Orchid wasn’t that kind of joint.

When she figured it out, she came to the bar.

“I’ll have a dry martini.”

“Do I look like someone you’d trust to make a martini?”

She smiled at that. “Gin and tonic then?”

I thought about it for a second and nodded. “That I can do.”

She took a sip, and her eyes shot open wide. I made it a little strong, but she raised the glass and went back to her corner table.

For someone who looked like they didn’t want to be noticed, Stella was doing a terrible job. This was Hell’s Kitchen, back when it was still dangerous. You either worked on the docks, in a warehouse, or not at all. I couldn’t tell if she came from money, but I knew she had some. She couldn’t hide it. Even the trench coat she was using to cover her designer dress looked like Fifth Avenue.

The regulars didn’t care. They had their own problems and knew not to cause any. Not while I was behind the bar.

The place mostly cleared out by midnight. Stella was starting to look around the room nervously. I’ve seen drunks do the same thing near closing time, when they don’t know where their next drink is coming from. She wasn’t one of those. She was worried about something else.

“When do you close?” she called from her corner.

“Around now.”

Her face dropped when I said it.

“One more?” she asked, holding up her empty glass.

I nodded. “One more.”

She came to the bar and placed her glass down. “Can you show me to the ladies’ room?”

“Over there,” I said, pointing. “Should be clean. Hasn’t been used in a month.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a smile like she knew what it did to men like me. Women like her didn’t look at me twice, much less talk to.

She wasn’t gone more than a minute when two guys walked in. Both Italian. One of them was big. The other one acted like he was. Neither of them belonged in an Irish neighborhood this late at night.

“Sorry, I’m about to close up.”

“We ain’t here for drinks,” the shorter one said. “We’re here for the woman.”

“Can’t help you with that.”

“She was here earlier. You saying she’s gone now?”

“I don’t know nothing about a woman.”

“The lipstick on that glass says otherwise.”

Fuck.

“You missed her. Left about 15 minutes ago.”

“That’s strange,” the bigger one spoke up for the first time. “Cause we been out front for the last half hour waiting for you to close shop.”

“They went out the back,” I said. “A guy named Bobby picked her up. Gave me a twenty to keep my mouth shut.”

The two men looked at each other. The smaller one took a step closer to me, shaking his finger as he spoke. “You don’t strike me as the kind of fella who’d break a deal like that.”

“He’s right,” his hulking partner agreed. “The Irish don’t turn on each other. Not this easy.”

Before I could think of what to say, the ladies' room door opened, and Stella walked out looking down as she straightened her dress.

“Listen,” she said, “I want to thank you for—” She froze in her tracks as she looked up and saw the two men.

“I’ll grab her. You teach this potato-eating prick a lesson.”

“Sonny, don’t!” she screamed at the big guy. “He didn’t do anything!”

“It’s not him you should be worried about, Stella. Frankie’s awfully upset with you.” The little guy took her wrist and pulled her closer to him.

I’d spent four years in Europe. A winter in the Ardennes boxed in by Nazis showed me what panic looked like. This wasn’t it.

Sonny grabbed me by the collar with both hands, leaving himself defenseless. Rookie move. I drove my forehead right into the bridge of his nose. It popped. You don’t give guys like this a chance to recover. I grabbed a stool and cracked it over his head. He dropped. I went to give him a few kicks but his eyes had already rolled into the back of his head. He was down for the count.

The smaller guy was pushing Stella toward the front door.

“Let her go,” I warned him.

He did. Then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a blade. Nowhere near the size of a German bayonet. I went at him before he could come for me. I saw the fear in him. He glanced down at Sonny. Then bolted.

Stella stood there shaking.

“Oh my god. Thank you.”

“No time. We gotta get out of here.”

I dragged Sonny to the sidewalk out front, then came back inside and locked the door. Stella was putting her coat on. Her hands were still shaking.

I grabbed a stack of bills from the cash drawer and stuffed them into my pocket.

“Back door,” I said.

I took her by the hand. She didn’t fight me like she did the little guy. She gave it a squeeze and did her best to run in heels.

“We’ll get a cab,” I said.

“Where we going?”

“I don’t know yet.”

It was a cold night, but warm in the back of the taxi. For now, we were just driving. Whoever those guys were, they knew where to find her. By now, they’d have eyes on my place. Stella would stick out like a sore thumb at any hotel I’d stay at. I wouldn’t be let into any place she’d want to. That narrowed things down fast.

“The Holland tunnel,” I said to the driver before turning to Stella. “We’re going to Jersey City.”

She curled her arm around mine, leaned in, and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Thank you.”

My cousin Jack owned a small bungalow on Mercer St. He was back home in Dublin looking after his ma. I hoped he still kept a spare key under the back doormat. Otherwise I’d be owing him a new window.

Stella had nodded off. She looked calm for the first time tonight. From the moment she walked into the bar, there was something not right with her. I didn’t know what. I still don’t. Maybe that’s for the best. But no one’s gonna muscle their way into my place and start dragging people out the door. Not a chance.

“Stella.” I shook her arm gently. “We’re here.”

She woke with a smile, then lifted her head and looked around. The smile didn’t last.

“Where?”

“Jersey City. My cousin Jack’s place. It’s safe.”

I paid the driver and led Stella around to the back. The mat was still there. So was the key. I opened the door and flipped the lights on.

“We can stay here for a few days,” I said, opening the pantry to see if Jack left any food in the house.

“You have blood on your face.”

I wiped my forehead. A little something left over from Sonny’s nose.

“His, not mine.”

Stella let out a long sigh. “I’m really sorry you got pulled into all this—”

“I wasn’t pulled. I jumped in. My choice.”

“Why? Why’d you do it?”

“When it feels like the right thing, I don’t stop to think. I just do it.”

“I’ve been so… so… I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Patrick. You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” I said. “But I don’t think those guys are going to stop.”

“I know how to deal with them,” she said, looking down. “I just needed a break.”

There was more there. I gave it a prod.

“They mentioned a Frankie. Who’s he?”

I went too fast. Stella avoided eye contact and stayed silent for a few moments. “Can we… can I just sleep for the night? I’ll fill you in over breakfast? I need to get my head straight.”

I wanted to know, but nothing was going to change between now and the morning. I let it be.

“You can take Jack’s room. I’ll be on the sofa in the living room.”

I went into the bathroom to wash up. Not only was there blood on my face, it was on my shirt too. I pulled at the neck and looked down. The blood had soaked through to my chest. The sink wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to take a shower.

When I got out, I couldn’t put the same bloody clothes back on. I wrapped myself in a towel and tapped softly on the bedroom door. I expected Stella to be out cold. I thought I’d slip in, get something to wear, and be gone.

“Come in.” Stella was still awake.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I said through the door. “I just want to grab some of Jack’s clothes. There’s blood on my shirt.”

“Come in,” she repeated.

When I opened the door, Stella was kneeling on the bed. Her dress was slung over a chair, and she was wearing one of Jack’s button-ups. Nothing else.

“I helped myself to one of his shirts. I couldn’t sleep in that dress.”

I looked away. Not because I wanted to. It was the right thing to do.

“It’s OK, Patrick. I’m not shy.”

“I, um… let me just get a few things and I’ll be on my way.”

I kept my head down as I entered the room and made my way to Jack’s closet first. Behind me, I heard Stella’s feet land on the hardwood floor. Then I felt her hand on my shoulder.

“You don’t have to pretend I’m not here,” she said.

“I know you’re here,” I replied. “I know.”

“Then why don’t you stay? Here, with me. In the bedroom.”

“Stella, I can’t… I won’t take advantage of—”

She stepped to my side and let her fingers drift from my shoulder down to my hand.

“You’re not. I’m jumping in. My choice.”

Women like Stella didn’t belong with men like me. I knew that. I wasn’t fooling myself. But the look in her eyes wasn’t pity. She wasn’t offering herself as a reward. She was after something of her own.

She let go of my hand and began walking to the bed, unbuttoning the shirt as she went. It hit the floor before I reached her. When she turned to face me, she lifted herself up. Her legs wrapped around my waist. The towel dropped.

We went down hard on the bed. The headboard smacked against the wall. For a moment, neither of us moved. We froze like teenagers afraid of getting caught.

Stella broke first. She laughed, then lowered her head to mine.

Her mouth was warm. I tasted gin. She used her tongue like a warning, letting me know what I was in for. I kissed back like a man who hadn’t touched a woman in longer than he’d want to admit.

She reached down. Her hand slipped between us and found my cock. I tensed up when she wrapped her fingers around it.

“Easy,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

She stroked me a few times, then started kissing her way down my body. I could feel the wet trail of lipstick she was leaving behind. Red marks I’d have to explain later, if I had someone to go home to.

She gave the length of my shaft a long lick while looking up at me. She held my eyes for a few seconds, teasing the head with a few short kisses, before taking it into her mouth.

One hand clenched the sheets. The other punched the mattress.

“Goddamn, Stella…”

I wondered how she’d picked this up. Nobody learns this by accident. She moved like she was used to getting things from men and letting them think it was their idea.

Maybe that was what she was running from. She wasn’t the kind of woman bad men just let walk away.

“You ready?” she asked, rising to her knees and settling herself over me.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.”

She brushed the tip of my cock against her cunt. The first touch almost made me cum, but there wasn’t time to think about it. Stella lowered herself onto me, watching my face the whole way down.

“That’s it,” she said. “Right there.”

When I was fully inside, she gave a few quick bounces, then rolled her hips more slowly, drawing it out.

“Men with money spent years thinking they owned this pussy. I made sure it cost them more than that. But for you, nothing.”

My hands went to her waist as Stella began to raise and lower herself on me. She’d been in control since we started, but after a couple of minutes, I heard it in her breathing. The moment was getting to her too.

I pushed myself up into her, and she responded with a low moan.

“Mmm… just like that… more.”

She leaned over, letting her breasts hang in front of me. I lifted my head and took a nipple in my mouth.

“Don’t stop to think. Just do it.” Stella rolled, pulling me on top of her. We were face to face now. Her body relaxed, and her legs opened wider.

“Give it to me good.”

I did. I fucked her harder than I thought I’d ever be able to.

When it was all over, I collapsed onto the bed beside her. Both of us stared at the ceiling, trying to catch our breath.

“Who is Frankie?” I asked, still breathing hard.

“Napolitano,” she said.

I knew the name. Most of New York did. He was trouble.

“You his girl?”

“One of them,” she said, looking at me from the corner of her eye. “He’ll kill you if he finds out.”

“I know.”

When I woke up the next morning, Stella was gone. The only sign she’d ever been there was Jack’s shirt, neatly folded over the chair where she’d left her dress the night before. I knew better than to call out or look for her in some other room. She’d made her exit.

I didn’t see her again until a few weeks later. I was walking home when she came out of a theatre on Frankie Napolitano’s arm. She didn’t see me at first. After Frankie got into the back seat of their car, Stella looked up at the sky and took in a deep breath.

I was standing across the street. I waited for her to notice me. She gasped when she did. Frankie tugged at her arm from inside the car. Sonny gently helped her into the seat. His nose was still bandaged.

As they pulled away, she looked at me through the rear window. I think she mouthed something, but I couldn’t make it out.

That was the last I ever saw of her.