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1. SCENE ONE — i'd rather not shake on it —
Grace's every sense was on edge. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood to attention. Eyes darted around, glazing past the ancient paintings and aged statues that filled the gallery, instead observing the faces of the people that buzzed around in their flat caps and smart dresses.
It was a stark difference to the Garrison, the pub where she worked. The men here were refined, their snarky, sexist comments laced with false politeness rather than crude casualness. No one seemed to notice her unease, nor would they care if they had.
The cause of it was drawing nearer, and her skin prickled with distaste as if her body could sense him, without yet noticing the man in the crowd. Her eyes moved frantically, her feet itching to move.
But then Grace's gaze landed on a face she thought she'd forgotten long ago, a face she had wanted to never see again. The woman was already moving toward her with a sense of deliberateness that Grace did not like.
"Good afternoon, Grace," the woman said, her voice the same, teasing lilt it always had been.
"Agent Burgess to you, Miss Blythe," Grace said, turning so she did not look at her, eyes instead level with the nearest chipped, Greek bust.
"Is that what the Inspector calls you, is it, Grace?" Her eyes were dark as they lowered on Grace. "Besides, it's agent Blythe now. Campbell has me on his team now also."
Though her blonde hair had been cut shorter and her face had aged, not much about Eveline had changed, Grace noticed with disdain. She was still sharp around every edge, her jaw and cheekbones cutting at harsh angles, a perfect reflection of her inner self, which too was as pointed as a knife.
"Not by choice, I imagine," she hummed, unable to keep the glare from her face.
"Well It's certainly not by choice that I was put as your partner," Eveline snapped.
Grace's eyes widened. The last thing she needed was to have her whole operation ruined by such a petulant girl. There was a reason she avoided Eveline Blythe as if she carried the plague, a reason she wished to forget. But Tommy Shelby was trusting her and she didn't need Eveline messing that all up.
"I don't need a partner," Grace hissed, turning on her heels to stare the woman in the face. "I'm doing fine on my own."
"I'm sure you are." Eveline looked bored. "But someone, somewhere, believes we'd be good as a team. And I'm not sure about you but since I've argued once, I'm not inclined to argue again."
