Sometimes when she was alone, Maria would just sit down on the hard wooden floor and drift off into her mind. When she was a small girl, she once read in a book, a quote from one Blaise Pascal. She recalls it clearly, "All of man's troubles come from his inability to sit in a quiet room by himself."

As a child in Europe, her parents had given her books in only English and allowed her to only listen to the English radio. They knew they would eventually make the trip overseas and immigrate to America. They wanted Maria to be able to speak clearly to the first American to greet them on Ellis Island. They wanted to be proud of their daughter, and so, they pushed her hard every night after school to learn English. Grammar, spelling, pronunciation, they spent every extra dollar on lessons.

And here she sat, alone, in a room, staring at a wall with cracks in its plaster. She was now in New York, many years after their immigration, and her parents were dead. Her husband was addicted to gambling, and alcohol. But she was not thinking about those things now. She was in another world.

"Maria why can't ya just make something basic for once? Ya got all this fancy sauce and noodles and weird chicken, just make me a sandwich, eh?" Maria was getting annoyed by her brother's grumbling.

"Ah, Giuseppe! You don't appreciate actual cooking? Go make yourself a damn sandwich and I will eat this real food by myself." Maria lightly tapped his forehead for emphasis.

They both smiled, and Giuseppe ate anyways. He always liked to tease his sister, he knew that might be the only time she smiled that day.

Her husband, Amon, hadn't come home the night before and she rang him to spend the night. She was afraid if he did come home it would be late at night and he would be in a fit of rage. What she told her brother though, was much different. He thought she was afraid of break-ins, or maybe just afraid to be by herself all night in a cold, dark tenement.

"You hear from that scumbag mick of a husband?" Giuseppe asked with a mouthful of food. Maria scowled at him, but he just winked. Always lightening the mood.

"No, he doesn't normally stay away this long. It's nearly ten! He left around supper last night." Maria leaned on the counter and sighed, pushing a lock of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Well sis, tell me tonight if you hear from him. I gotta get to work, boss wants me around by half past." Giuseppe kissed Maria on the forehead before dumping his plates in the sink and winking again. He stopped when he was halfway out the door and turned around. "I'm not worried for him sis, I want you to be safe. If I don't hear from you I'm coming back after work."

"I'll be fine Gip!" She pushed him out the door laughing. She could hear his laughter down the halls for a few moments after the lock clicked shut. Sighing again she set to cleaning the dishes.

Amon worked a basic labour job. Sometimes he would spend weeks helping build a new school, or office building. Right now he was on the subway job, which is supposed to last for another year or even more. Sometimes the union had no work for weeks at a time. Maria had heard of men not having work for months, and having to move out of the tenements and into relatives or friends homes.

Not having any children, Maria was working at an office as a typist. The lowest tier. She saved a dime every week and almost had enough to buy herself a new dress. This way, maybe she would stand out a bit. She was only sad that she wouldn't be able to wear that dress every day, as most other ladies that she worked with were more upperclass and had more than enough dresses for each day of the week and had time to wash them more than once a month.

Still, she wanted to be able to provide more for herself. Giuseppe ran with a shady crowd, and yet he made quite a large amount of money. He wore tailored suits every day and had a hat for every occasion. He never told Maria what he did, just referred to it as business.

Once, out on a stroll downtown during her lunch break, Maria had seen Giuseppe enter a cafe with a group of men. One of which she recognized, as she had seen him on the cover of the newspaper. Johnny Torrio. One of the biggest mob bosses in Chicago.

Maria gazed around the room. Her small tenement had one other room, the bedroom. The baths were in the basement of the building, and for that small detail Maria was grateful. Their life in Sicily had been hard and she did not miss bathing outside in the river. They could have had a larger tenement, maybe even lived in a more respectable area, if Amon didn't go out each night. None of Amon's money went towards groceries or rent; and he wanted Maria to give him a child! A family of three could not live off of a typist's wages. They're barely getting by as it is.

Leaving some dishes half washed in the sink, she went to the bedroom to get herself ready for work. Being a Sunday she didn't normally work, but her boss had a very valuable investor coming in and needed her to help him do some 'persuading'. Usually that meant talking up the investment and playing the 'I'm a meek little girl' act. Being so, she had to put on her best clothes. Mr. Alfredson, her boss, had made a little 'investment' in her, and spent $50 on a tailored dress. She kept it wrapped up in paper and under the bed so Amon would never find it. She put that on, pinned her hair up, put on her only hat, and applied a tasteful amount of rouge.

She made her way downstairs; she lived on the third floor. Having moved house just a few weeks earlier she hadn't met many families from her block. In fact, it seemed very quiet compared to the old neighbourhood in Brooklyn. In the old block she would run into at least two people just going down the stairs but, now, she hadn't seen a single soul in days.

She lost her footing on the bottom of the steps outside and nearly crashed into a man walking by. He grabbed her wrists to keep her from hitting the pavement and her bag hit the ground, spilling its contents everywhere.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

"You don't have to apologize, I'm the one that fell!" Maria said, laughing. The man seemed so embarrassed as he quickly picked up her things, "Not everyday you have women falling for you Mr...?"

"Lansky," Another man cut in, walking up from behind the stuttering Mr. Lansky. "And no, he doesn't. Of the two of us, I'd like to believe I'm more of a ladies man. The name's Lucky."

Lucky held out his hand. Maria just smiled coyly and shook it. He had quite a firm grip. And quite a disgusting smile on his face. He was very handsome, but something told her that he had less than honorable intentions in everything that he did.

"Well, I'm Maria. Ginsberg. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Lansky," She smiled brightly and held out her hand. He seemed to hesitate before shaking it.

"You can just call me Meyer," he said, seemingly getting his bearings a bit. The blush was starting to fade.

"Ginsberg, eh?" Lucky cut in, "Meyer's a Jew, too."

Lucky took a drag from his cigarette while looking at them expectantly. Meyer looked less than impressed. After a few moments of silence he gave up.

"Ok, I'll be waiting in the car. Don't take too long Romeo."

"Is he normally that arrogant?" Maria asked when Lucky was safely out of hearing range. She gave a short laugh.

"Yes, yes he is. I wouldn't exactly say he has any tact. I'm not really sure what I did to get stuck with him as a business partner." Maria could tell he had no idea what to do with his hands. After a few seconds of smoothing out his coat he finally put them in his pockets.

"Oh, shoot, speaking of business I'm late for a meeting. If I don't start running now I don't know if I'll make it," Maria gave a little groan as she realized that she had been wasting way too much time chatting.

"Well, um, where do you work? I'm sure I could give you a lift." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucky give Meyer a little thumbs up from inside the car. So he wasn't out of hearing range then.

"Goldman Sachs," Maria smiled. She found herself smiling a lot around Meyer. Too polite. Stop it. He smiled back.

"Get outta the car Lucky, I gotta drive the lady to work," Meyer opened the door and gestured for Lucky to step out.

"Why can't she just hop in the back?"

"Because I'm taking her downtown. Our business happens to be in the other direction. Why would I make her sit in the back when I am going to be coming back this way? Go sit inside, or outside, I don't care."

"Fine. Fine. I'm getting out. Ouch! Okay, I'm moving faster. You kids have fun!" Lucky sat on the front steps of their building and lit up a smoke.

"Oh, I'm sure we will!" Maria winked as she hopped up into the car. Lucky chuckled unabashadly. Meyer didn't blush this time, just laughed and looked over at Maria.

Giuseppe arrived at the Venezia Restaurant about a half hour before instructed. The restaurant was closed, as usual for a Sunday, and The Boss was sitting at a table with a coffee in his hand. Two men stood watch as he read the newspaper.

"Ah, Gip! How is it my boy? Always early, always reliable!" Joe Masseria stood up and shook Gip's hand before sitting back down. Gip removed his hat and placed on the table, then placed his sidearm next to it.

"I would've been earlier if I didn't promise my sister I would stop by for Sunday brunch. You know me Joe! Always making promises." Gip smiled amicably and Joe patted him on the shoulder.

"You remind me of myself when I was your age, my boy. You will go places. But today, the place you must go, will be determined by this meeting." Gip nodded his head solemnly. If this meeting went the way they wanted, they would be expanding into the narcotics business, not just bootlegging. Things would change.

"Got anything stronger than coffee in here, eh?" Gip shouted over to one of the men near the counter.

"Just a little something to wake me up."

"Not too much, eh boy? Just a thimble. Not many employers would allow even a drop of alcohol to their men on the job." Joe chuckled.

It wasn't until after Gip finished his spiked coffee and bagel that the others had shown up. Joe didn't seem as happy as he did when Gip had walked through the door.

"Boys, you are late! Is this the kind of reputation you think Rothstein wants?" Joe stayed seated as they sat at the table.

"Meyer here had to drive a broad all the way downtown!" Lucky laughed, quick to point his finger. Meyer opened his mouth like he was about to defend himself but Joe cut him off.

"It's good you are respectful to women but please try to be more timely next time. Jesus, you boys are giving me gray hairs."

"So you got a woman now, eh, Polak?" Gip asked as he lit a cigarette.

"No, we just met today. It's not important."

"Must be a very important lady if you just met her today and you were willing to nearly stand us up for her!" Lucky chuckled at Joe's remark. He was usually the one getting grilled.

"Can we please lay off the ladyfriend shit and get down to business? A.R. sent us with this, might make you a bit more inclined to stop worrying about where I'm sticking it and start worrying about what kind of money you could be making," Meyer dropped a briefcase on the table top and flipped it open, revealing large stacks of twenty dollar bills.

"I like it, very fiery! This woman, she brings out your manly side." Joe joked, laughing before he even finished speaking. "You are normally like a small school boy who just finished reading a dictionary."

"Of everyone I'd expect you to appreciate the art of conversation, Mr. Masseria," Meyer said, smiling despite himself. Lucky was struggling to hide his guffaws.

"Okay. So how much money you have there?"

"Thirty grand. It's ten percent of what we make per shipment of heroin. See where I'm going with this?"

"Where do you get your shipments?" Joe asked, now curious.

"Thats the tricky part. We can get them in by boat but due to the recent outbreak of amateur bootleggers, the docks are being watched too closely. That's where you come in. You get your booze from Atlantic City. We've struck a deal with Nucky Thompson and we can use his docks. All we need now is some trucks and manpower, and giving you a ten percent cut is a lot cheaper than getting our own men. We can just throw our heroin in with your booze."

"Ya won't even notice it's there," Lucky threw in, to top off Meyer's speech. Meyer gave him one of his disapproving looks.

"And what if I'm like the princess and the pea?" Joe asked, laughing.

"Then Nucky Thompson gets a twenty percent cut and we use his trucks."

"Why didn't you just cut that deal when you asked to use the docks?"

"Because you were our first choice. Another way of keeping the peace between us, if you shall." Meyer looked expectantly at Joe, but Joe was turned in his chair looking at Gip.

"Well, Gip. Looks like you're heading to Atlantic City."