@shelbysdevil
Grace was nervous and at the same time, burdened by the fact that she wasn’t finding a profession that would allow her to live in a home and be relieved from everything involving money. It had been a month since she arrived at Birmingham and was living in a a small flat - a room had been set up for her by a friend until she could manage to pay them for the trouble. A sigh left her lips at the thought before she stepped into the Garrison Pub, as said friend had suggested her to try out and see if she could find a vacant in there.
A pub wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but since it was easier to most likely land something in them, the young woman didn’t hesitate to try and give it a chance. Of course, her friend hadn’t spoken to her about the Peaky Blinders. And more importantly, the Shelbys. So Grace was stepping into an unknown territory as she set foot at the pub and closed the door behind her. Her hues traveled all over the place, before they stopped at the sight of a man sitting in one of the tables. It was early morning - first light and she could see no one was around, but him.
Was he the owner? Probably. She wasn’t planning to waste any time in finding out.
“I beg your pardon, sir.” Grace began in a soft tone of voice, approaching the man cautiously. “I was wondering if you were the owner of this place. I’m interested about working here.”
