Hometown: Born in Miami, but grew up in New York City
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Character Inspiration: Christina Yang (Grey's Anatomy), Miranda Priestley (Devil Wears Prada), Olivia Pope (Scandal), Claire Underwood (House of Cards)
tldr;
– LOTTIE SAAB was born into privilege and manipulation, the daughter of a celebrated pianist and a powerful entertainment lawyer secretly tied to a crime syndicate. After her mother was institutionalized under suspicious circumstances, Lottie was exiled to Europe and molded by her father into a prodigy of control and image-making. At 21, she learned the truth: her real father was one of the co-leaders for that same syndicate, who she’d always seen as a family friend, and her entire childhood had been built on lies. Betrayed and radicalized, Lottie cut ties with her adoptive father and threw herself into the criminal empire that had shaped her life, working with her biological father. With a sharp eye for influence and optics, she transformed it into a sleeker, more resilient force; modernizing its laundering, expanding its reach in Hollywood, and turning herself into a socialite using her adoptive father’s last name. When her biological father retired, she took over his organization and merged it with The Reserve, where she felt she belonged - with people that had become her real family - and hoping with all the resources, she'd be able to find her mother.
READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.
biography
TW: disappearance, mental institution
Lottie Saab was born into a world of high culture and deeper corruption. Her mother, Gabriela Hayes, was a celebrated pianist who once played for presidents and royals. Her father, Omar Saab, was a Lebanese entertainment lawyer whose client list included actors, moguls—and covertly, members of a crime syndicate with ties in Hollywood. On the surface, their bicoastal life between Manhattan and Malibu was charmed but behind every camera flash was a shadow.
At twelve, everything fractured. Her mother suffered what the press called an overdose. In reality, it was a breakdown brought on, Lottie would later learn, by the cruel erasure and manipulation of her life by the very man she trusted most. Omar sent Gabriela away to a private institution overseas and told Lottie it was for her own protection. He sent Lottie away too, to a cold school in the Alps, far from the headlines and the truth.
When she returned, her father remade her in his image. She was no longer simply a daughter—she became a student of power. He tutored her in dealmaking, blackmail, and brand optics. She thought she was being prepared to inherit his legal empire. Instead, she was being shaped to serve a darker legacy.
By the time she was eighteen, Lottie had moved permanently back to Manhattan. There, the truth finally surfaced. The man she'd called father wasn’t her biological dad. That honor belonged to her godfather, the co-leader for the crime syndicate, who revealed that Omar had manipulated everything, including keeping her mother locked away and inaccessible for over a decade. The betrayal radicalized her.
Lottie cut him out of her life and threw herself into the organization that her biological father lead - not just as a protégé, but as a weapon. With a mix of rage, poise, and surgical precision, she rebranded their image from the inside out. Within a few years, she turned it into into something sleeker, more resilient; an empire of vice wrapped in couture. She restructured their Hollywood infiltration, brokered new routes for distribution, modernized their laundering through digital assets, and forged discreet partnerships with tech startups, influencers, and mid-tier celebrities eager to be useful.
When her biological father finally decided to retire and pursue the search for Gabriela full-time, the organization expected to quietly install one of their own in his place. Lottie made sure that didn’t happen. She took over his organization and merged it with The Reserve, where she felt she belonged - with people that had become her real family - and hoping with all the resources, she'd be able to find her mother.
random facts
she went to Yale University and majored in Strategic Communications with a minor in Political Sciences
can play classical piano and cello (courtesy of her mother), but prefers to watch concerts. the opera, specifically.
if she can take a chopper anywhere instead of a plane, she will
forces herself to try matcha from different places once a day as "me time"
loves the Ocean's 11 movies (but fuck brad pitt)
reads The Economist, Architectural Digest, and gossip blogs all in the same sitting
sketches floor plans of buildings she visits since she was very young
keeps one of her mother’s signed concert programs in a frame, hidden in her bedroom closet
knows how to read legal contracts in Spanish, Lebanese, and English. She never signs anything she didn’t edit herself
can't miss a single pilates class
her main office is located in the top floor of Astoria Racquet and Social Club - a country club founded by herself only a few years after her college graduation
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santiago was almost surprised at how okay lottie was with showing up with him to the event. she had attended other events with just friends but there had been a difference in how the pair were presenting themselves that just eliminated that fact after all these years. hand remained on the small of her back as they maneuvered through the crowd , " i work great under pressure , " he added with a small shake of his head. eyes scanned the crowd before she turned to look at him , " this is the most i've slept in years -- i'm a bit disoriented. " that much at least was true , it was a weird sensation feeling well rested. " i am relaxed , " he said learning forward pressing a small kiss to her forehead. " have i told you , you look beautiful ? " he had , probably too many times but he couldn't help it.
despite all the anxiety he felt at the situation , the city's more influential people gathered he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm just having her at his side. nothing had really changed between the pair except the amount of time they spent with each other , even now he couldn't help but smile at the way she looked at him --- even if she was judging him for not being able to relax. " not that i am tying to skip out on the event but --- how long did you want to stay for ? "
A part of her was still almost used to the version of him that tried to hide things, not only from her, but from most people in his life. She was exceptionally good at reading him due to so many years of friendship, even when he tried to hide it. Her gaze remained on him as Santiago leaned down to kiss her forehead, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders. "Excuses," she teased lightly, hands giving his shoulders a soft squeeze as a small smile appeared on her lips. Instead of answering his question, she pulled him down to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I told you this was the right suit, by the way."
She knew that events made him anxious, but Lottie was also aware of how important this event was for the Caravelli's and del Castillo's. Unlike most other organizations, theirs was the strongest and had way more control, not to mention, everyone (including Santiago) had taken extra measures to show up that night. "We can leave soon," Lottie agreed easily, her tattooed fingers toying with the cross pendant that always hung from his neck, a new habit of hers. Honestly, great party, lovely, but they had wine and a private pool at her place in The Hamptons waiting for them. "You can't use the being disoriented excuse on me all the time by the way, that's unfair."
His attendance this evening narrowed down to one factor: Camilla. Had it not been for her hosting, The Mob's annual white party was something that sounded straight out of the Turkish soap operas his mother used to watch. Translation: none of his fucking business. A thought that he would only deem an inconvenience when surfacing alongside his growing interest in the latest news on the Demirci Group. While the acquisition of Pier 47 and the controlling majority of the waterfront port held a substantial interest to him - it was the family name that struck at a personal level, and therefore, the mere thought of coincidence was a category Aslan had stopped believing in within the first ten years of his conception.
He'd started pulling threads on the Demirci Group before he finished reading the article. Everything available from the background on each and every family member, to who ran the organization operationally versus who held the public face, what the textile and construction operations actually moved, and which of his resources held intelligence deeper than what appeared on public record. That last question had brought him to Charlotte Saab. Channel 212 belonged to the Reserve and for her news station to publish the article before anyone else - it was, as his assumption would land upon, a deliberate move.
As he approached Lottie, a barely touched whiskey glass grasped in one hand, the other settled in his trouser pocket with dark sunglasses in place. "Good party." His gaze moved briefly across the grounds before returning to her. "You got a minute?" Time and place were, technically, factors to enter consideration. However, he wouldn't spare any where a family like the Demircis was concerned. Without awaiting her response, his hand gestured out towards the terrace, into a space that would be absent any attentive ears that circled while it was still early enough into the evening that Charlotte was still sober to consult.
At one point during the night, she had to focus on doing what she did best and that was creating connections that would help her job down the line. She knew every name, every face, in some cases, Lottie even knew what each of them did. That night though, she had a specific target in mind, Alexis Noble. Ever since Amelia had brought up how quiet her opponent had been during the aftermath of the fires, the Leader of The Reserve knew that she wanted to dig into her, see what could come out even if Amelia was already working on it. When Aslan approached her, with a sad excuse for small talk - which she could tell he never entertained, she appeared to not notice but simply nodded, following into the terrace and immediately taking her pack of cigarettes out of of her clutch. "Sure,"
Rarely ever did Aslan approach her, the two of them talked business the few times they had exchanged words and he certainly didn't seem like the type to reach out to Camilla's friends for anything - again, unless it was business. Small talk was nothing new to her given her line of work, but she saw it as a waste of her time when she knew Aslan did not care for it. Instead, once they were alone, she focused on lighting up her cigarette and offered one to him, silently letting him know she was all ears for whatever he was about to either ask about, or tell her.
"What did you say? You need me to take care of some very important business anywhere that isn't here?" Clark's voice was low as he moved to stand next to Lottie. He had been walking all around the party, checking out every nook and cranny he could so he could have his wits about him if anything happened. Checking in with Lottie and everyone else was just a part of making sure his people were good. That they hadn't noticed anything he should be aware of. "I think you know parties aren't my thing but this is..something else." He fiddled with his bolo tie for a moment before looking at her. "You doing alright?" @lottiesaab
There was a natural charm to the enforcer, something that few expected of him or so Lottie believed. He fit into The Reserve better than Lottie had expected, somehow. Some people, really, weren't supposed to even fit in to begin with. That was part of it - his job was to do his own thing. And he excelled at it. "Appreciate you showing up," although she had almost told him that he couldn't miss it. See, she needed observant people tonight, not because she thought something could happen, but because with everything she had recently found out about Pantheon. "Although your wish may become a reality at some point tonight, so keep your phone close just in case." She admitted, for she was using tonight as a way to gauge who to get information from.
There's an unspoken resolve between the two sisters. Lottie may be ice, Amelia may be fire. They may not agree on much. Certainly not money, or politics, or lifestyles. But they are in this together, bonded by the man who tried to hurt them. It's some consolation, isn't it? For all the harm he's done, its brought them together. Amelia smiles as they turn to work, to Noble Story and its hypocritical name. "I can, although it makes me want to spit. She's a fucking hack." Amelia comments, competitive and crude. What? It's true? She's a socialite with a gossip rag. Amelia run a legitimate news channel. Then again, that's years of rivalry coming up. "Do you know her much? Does she come around the Astoria?" Socialites typically would.
At the mention of Alfie, Amelia instantly bristles. Since their blow-up at the bar, he seems to be everywhere; the Upper East Side, the Reserve, on her social media (and so what if she looked him up herself?). She's got half a mind to just ignore Lottie's words. But they are 'sisters' now... "Listen, you know I don't like getting too personal." They have that in common. "But just so you know... Well, we dated. Ages ago." And implicit in that is how serious it was, and how seriously awful they left it. "I'm doing my best not to rip his head off, obviously. But with the way we go at it lately... No guarantees." And Lottie needs to know that, for no other reason than being in the know of her own organization.
"That's alright. I'll keep the amenity pass, if you don't mind. Cheaper than a Barry's Bootcamp membership." Amelia teases back. Just because they won't be living together, doesn't mean she won't be around. Her eyebrows quirk up; Omar's estate has been somehow of a mystery since his passing. But one thing she knew for certain? "You realize that whatever he's left behind, he left for you... Right?" His favorite daughter, his 'legitimate' heir. Lottie was meant to inherit, Amelia was meant to hide. And though his wishes mean fuck all these days, she's honest enough to say it.
A part of Lottie knew she should have questioned Amelia's secret and being family, but she couldn't imagine the journalist ever lying about anything. Her moral compass was stronger than most - or at least, it had been when they first met. Lottie knew how easily that could shift when someone joined an organization like hers. Despite Amelia's efforts, Lottie knew that staying what people considered clean was near impossible. It just so happened that Lottie had forced her own younger sister into the world that their father had always wanted for them - something that she hated. Because every day that passed Lottie became more aware of just how much she resembled Omar Saab. Her worst nightmare come to life.
"I know her, she's also contacted me for interviews a few times." Though all times had been declined, Lottie had her team research her. She couldn't say Noble Story was anywhere near Channel 212, as the way Amelia ran it was more aligned with other networks that Lottie had invested on like CNN and NPR. "She loves a trend. May be a good way for you to get an in."
Lottie couldn't help but roll her eyes, almost fondly, at the woman in front of her. Again - her sister. That was something she had yet to get used to. "You and Alfie dated?" That made more sense than she cared to admit; both nerds, for starters. Lottie's mindset was very simple when it came to people dating within her organization, for the only rule was she did not give a single fuck. Granted, though it was still new, she harbored a sense of protectiveness with Amelia now that she knew she was, basically, the only not distant relative she had, but it was still not her business. "Is this your way of saying you don't want to work with him unless strictly necessary?"
It didn't matter to Charlotte what Omar wanted - that had been the case for a long time. His death didn't change that. He had tormented both of them, and her mother, until his dying breath, it seemed. And Lottie was already worse than average at feeling compassion anyway. "I think he's left enough for me. With him being on the run both of his children have access to the assets that aren't under investigation." Most of Lottie's portion of his assets would be sold and used for charity purposes, really, for she wanted nothing to do with him. She would keep his stakes in the media world though, anything to help what was now their legacy. "May be your chance to get out, if you still want to do that."
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The name Suzanne McLean meant nothing to Nico, which seemed a theme that only continued the further he dug. Which despite everything he did know, the picture was becoming more complex when it came to understanding every connection to every single gang within New York and the collective reason why whatever vendetta they had was being acted out. Sure, he could take a guess and each reasoning would no doubt be different with added similarities and yet, the death of his brother meant that his care to find an understanding severely lacked. To Nico, this simply meant that McLean was now on the list of people that would be found with a bullet lodged within their skull. See, nobody could argue his unfairness for he treated everyone equally.
"Yeah, which tells me they've most likely got people that we trust feeding them info." he'd use the word trust lightly in most cases and yet now? Unfortunately for the people around him his distrust had shaken hands with confirmation. The fires that had taken a hold over the city would only tell them that also. It went unsaid that he wanted Suzanne's location the moment it surfaced, it was the only piece of information he was interested in. "I know you don't know where she is, but her business -" he glanced briefly toward the folder, instantly coming to Lottie directly, "Where am I gonna find that?"
Lottie nodded, opening the folder without a second thought and pointing at a list of locations she and Amelia had worked through. Whatever the Don did with the information that she gave him was not her problem, but after years of alliance, she knew exactly where Nico's question was coming from. It was personal now, too, which was why she had came to him in the first place. "She's got a couple of boutiques and one warehouse here in the city. I can forward anything else we find - the more I look through things, the more I wonder who knows who." Unfortunately for her, she still couldn't find the logic behind the fires, the masquerade that ended up in a failed attempt at blowing up a private island. See, Lottie was logical, none of this was. She agreed with Nico about an inside job, but that would mean that both of their organizations, or rather, all of them, had someone that worked with Pantheon. It seemed very drastic. "I have a team focused on Pantheon leads, so I'll make sure to follow up with anything or anyone new."
he expected no less from the party , everyone in dress code , behaving and tons of familiar faces concealing weapons. he hadn't exactly told his siblings but knew they were smart enough to infer what him arriving with lottie meant. it didn't make him nervous , events did. each one ending with some sort of disaster and if this ended the same way --- his sister would not be happy and somehow he'd hear about it. he hadn't left lottie's side since they arrived , it seemed to just be the natural state of the two -- always near , some sort of physical contact -- a sort of tether that kept him grounded. he felt her eyes on him , " what ? " he questioned , obviously he was tense , witnessed by the fingers drumming at his side. " i'm chill , i'm relaxed -- don't i look like the definition of relaxed ? "
It was hard to miss how tense he was when he didn't stop touching her. She wasn't complaining by any means, but if he thought he was doing a great job at hiding his anxiety, he was dead wrong. Not to mention, Lottie knew him so well. Perhaps too well. She blamed that fact for their incredibly fast hard launch; quite literally the opposite of any of her previous relationships up until now. She wasn't sure what that meant, but for the first time in a long time, Lottie wasn't worrying about it. Santiago was doing enough worrying for both of them anyway. Thankfully for them, few things shook her - not even Pantheon, even less after the past few months. "Remind me to never let you near a casino." She retorted, the roll of her eyes almost a given as she turned to look at him, eyes scanning his face. She'd heard enough from both their security to feel relatively at ease, but still alert. "You haven't looked relaxed a day in your life, by the way. You should try it some time."
Villa Aurelia had been in the works for months, and as guests started strolling in Camilla was already drifting toward the entrance, greeting each person she passed. As a water passed by with a tray of champage, Cami reached out, taking two flutes before handing one off to Lottie. “I hope Paris is shaking in her fucking Jimmy Choos.” Her blue eyes moved across the courtyard before she turned back to the brunette beside her and lifted her glass to her lips with a faint grin.
There was hardly a better feeling than months of planning finally coming to an end. Even if that was a lie she told herself after every event or every new business any of them ventured in, for there would always be something next. Such was life. Taking the flute easily, Lottie just smiled as she walked next to Camilla, nodding. "Did she send you flowers yet?" Miss Hilton had a pattern, everyone that knew her knew it, but then again maybe motherhood had changed her or whatever the saying was. She sipped from her champagne flute and then spoke up. "You and Cel outdid yourselves, I think everyone is here."
Very few people in the world of crime understood just how important it was to be social. The Reserve was proof of it, their M.O. was more attached to society, events and their connections than most people knew; and their casinos served their purpose as not only making them money, but an easy way to figure out who mattered and who didn't. As small as those connections could be, Lottie always made an effort. Nan's flower shop had been in her radar for a while due to blackmail she'd used in the past - most people would be surprise of just how much she could get done if she found out cheating allegations. That was how she'd met the blonde woman, but seeing her in The Hamptons and at a Caravelli and del Castillo party was a surprise. "Francine?" She asked as she found herself standing next to the florist, an unreadable expression on her face. Again, she was just surprised. "You look great."
a part of him wondered if he should have clued her in years ago , but also felt that fear of rejection creep up as it usually did when it came to lottie. she'd gone through so much that it almost felt unreal to have her be this close to him , in a different way than they had been throughout the years. there were times where he wondered if she cared for him in a similar way that he cared for her , in a way that completely disregarded the boundaries of their friendship. the pair had seen each other grow , make new friends , get in and out of relationships and yet the two remained.
eyes remained on hers as they separated once again , unlike before she could see just how he was finally looking at her. reminiscent to their very first encounter when he realized she would be someone very special to him. she didn't answer his question but her gaze said it all. lottie had always had a way of speaking to him not just in words but just by how expressive her eyes were. he'd caught onto it very early on and while he never would've imagined being this way with her , the look was reminiscent to how he saw her.
lips curled into a smile , that same smile she always commented looked too big for his face but truthfully he couldn't help it. " let's go on a date , a real one. " the two having gone on dozens of dinners and events but never in the way he was proposing. " today , tomorrow --- whenever you're free. "
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The death of Omar Saab, and the hiding of it all, had almost became the last of her priorities once she was sure it was all covered up as tightly as possible. It was easy, the news were covering the case that Interpol had opened upon an anonymous tip - Omar Saab was not gone, hiding from authorities, no trace of him left behind, his assets not frozen due to a number of people that had done dirty work for him. She and James had worked on collecting all of them, arranging all the correct paperwork. It worked out in her favor, after all, that she had been Omar's protege and not just his daughter, for he had showed her enough weaknesses that his ego never allowed him to see as just that. "Next time we meet, I say we do it at a restaurant - with a rooftop." Mostly because she needed to smoke after the amount of papers that she was signing and reading over. Even if she trusted the lawyer, any lawyer, Lottie still read everything. She shifted in her seat when she picked up another folder. "How do you not lose your mind everyday, Jamie?"
𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 a pressure cooker environment. she learned early how to be productive under pressure. personal relationships, happiness, sleep, even safety back in chicago, all of it was weighed against success and found to be less urgent. so she couldn’t understand why pantheon should be any different. rin watched lottie move around the desk and sit beside her, and for some reason, that made it harder to keep the expression on her face under control. across the desk was business. beside her was something else. it was intimate enough to make rin’s shoulders pull back on instinct. no one is untouchable. it sounded good. it sounded like something they both needed to believe. hell, it was the idea that had gotten rin into journalism in the first place. “i believe you,” she said finally. “i’m just…” she exhaled, looking away for a second. “nothing.” she waved it off. “it’s probably the sleep deprivation talking.” she couldn’t afford to have lottie think she was losing her edge. not when there were younger, hungrier journalists who would happily take her spot. rin pulled out her phone, thumb already moving across the screen. “i’ll check in with amelia. find everything i can on ms. mclean who, apparently, owns a clothing brand?” she glanced up briefly, brow faintly arched. a quick google search told her, and she wondered what else she could find by asking around, or by having harry help her with the online search part.
when lottie mentioned what pantheon might have on her, rin went still for half a second. “most of the worst things about me, you already knew when you hired me,” she said. the scandal, obviously. chicago. there was the one part lottie probably didn’t know, but rin didn’t feel it needed explaining. her deepest regret had no legal implications. it just made her look like a heartless monster. she looked down at her phone, then locked it without meaning to. “they’ve never contacted me,” she said. “i have a lot of regrets, or whatever. my closet isn’t exactly without skeletons, but i’d never do the bidding of those little bitches, if that’s what you’re worried about.” she looked back at lottie then, steady, sharp. “and if they ever did contact me, tried to blackmail me, whatever, you’d be my first call.”
In the midst of becoming who she now was, Lottie had never lost focus on what she really wanted out of her plans. It had always been about her mother's disappearance. She wanted to find her, she needed some of closure even if that meant that she had to really say goodbye to her. She couldn't lie and say that the past few months she had not been out of sorts within the organization that she ran - leaving most of its weight to the Harrigan's. Even if she'd been working, and had been physically in every room and conversation, Lottie had been dealing with things she wasn't familiar with.
The loss of two members from their organization was meant to shake things up for everybody, so she was almost surprised that only Haerin had mentioned something to her so far. She was committed to finding out whoever had done this and to give everyone something, do right by Lorelai and Hazal after everything they went through. Lottie couldn't say that she tended to think of how to say things; these came to her pretty effortlessly, she meant them this time. "We lost a lot at the fire, way more than my store - being scared, worried or tired isn't a bad thing. It's what you do with it, that matters. If you need some time, take it. How's your friend? The one that was injured recently." Lottie asked slowly.
She nodded at the question about McLean. Lottie wanted everything on the woman, whatever her involvement was with the fires, her entire life. She would pay for it all, like everyone else involved would. "I'll take care of everything that I do know, so if you're contacted, know it'll be taken care of." A part of her was fully aware that it was, perhaps, time to go around and offer this to The Reserve, for she assumed, with this escalation by Pantheon, it could only get worse. Lottie tilted her head to the side as she watched the journalist and then nodded. "I wouldn't expect you to, but this escalation is allowing me to see just how much we can lose. Not just as an organization, but as individuals." All that to say, Lottie had Haerin's back. The Reserve had it too.
Cleo follows without needing much direction, letting Lottie lead. This is her domain, after all. Cleo has only ever thought of one other person as a true architect: her great-grandmother, who built the ballet academy from the ground up. Lottie is the second. Lottie reminds Cleo of the woman, or at least the idea of her, the elegant ancestor she has only ever imagined. Cleo knows no higher compliment than this. “Ugh, business.” Her face contorts as if the smell of something rotten meandered its way into her nostrils. “I am so incredibly tired of discussing business. It’s all anyone wants to talk about.” She settles into the quieter lounge area Lottie has chosen, lowering herself onto the seat with the careful ease of someone who has had enough scotch to feel loose but not enough to be seen as drunk.
“Although,” she starts, because of course there is an although, “I am planning a fundraising dinner for Santiago, if you want in on that. Sorry—,” she corrects, lifting one finger. “—the foundation is throwing him a fundraiser. He is so specific about optics. Thinks the masses will tear him apart if a spoiled heiress throws a big party for him.” She orders another scotch, tips a fifty from her clutch, folded and set on the bartender’s tray without looking up. “Anyway that’s hardly business. It’s friendship.” Wry grin twists her lips, because Lottie knows her better than that. “And? I’m dreadfully bored. Trying to get my mind off of…” Cleo gestures vaguely. “You know.”
She sighs, shakes her head. “Anyway, how are you?” For once, she isn’t thinking about anything else. “Has the insurance check for Haus of Saab cleared yet?” She’s dealt with enough property to understand what it takes, and even she can’t wrap her head around it. The old Meridian theater renovation alone had nearly broken her (or rather her project manager), and that was just rot and outdated wiring. A fire gutting the whole thing? It sounds like a Herculean task to rebuild.
It is fondness that settles in her expression as she watches her friend - for they have known each other for long enough that talking business seems almost pointless when they know enough about each other. Sometimes business talk can be similar to small talk in their world; numbers, deals, all things that the two women have mastered throughout the years. Sometimes together.
So, she just shrugs and smiles at the bartender that approaches, ready to take their order. Lottie only says her usual, and then lets Cleo take her turn. All while she is thinking back to the other woman's words just moments earlier, before they were interrupted. It feels small to talk about Santiago and their friendship no longer being just that when the next topic is the loss of a man that all three of them knew. See, Cleo, Santiago and Lottie - they all had grew close in college. Lottie was - and still is - a master at being in different circles, part of the skills that her father instilled in her from a young age. Few people see a side of her that she doesn't share with others, and Cleo fits into that group.
"It's hard not to think about him," Lottie admits, and her admission is attached to one too many feelings; the freedom that Romeo gave her when he rid her and everyone in the world of Omar Saab, the mourning of Santiago after spending so many days by his bedside while he recovered and on top of it all, the happiness that has appeared almost out of thin air since she and their mutual friend, Santiago, kissed weeks ago in Yale. "Especially when I have to talk so much about the fires that-" she just sighs, shifting in her seat a little to cross one of her legs over the other. "Insurance has cleared, it's undecided when we'll reopen though, we may be turning the page on the jewelry store. It was my dad's and well, it's a long story."
There is a pause before Lottie offers Cleo an almost sad smile, though there is happiness in it. A feeling she has be wondering if she should be fighting due to the timing but that she, at the same time, refuses to. "Speaking of Santi, I'll help with the fundraiser." She tucks some of her hair behind her ear, figuring that Cleo would find out one way or another. "But we'll have to make sure the optics look even better now because he'll probably want me there as his date now. New development and all that."
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a bit of panic stirred in the man's chest in the millisecond it seemed for her to reciprocate the gesture. a gesture he had been wanting to do since before his life seemed too complicated. life continued on and lottie remained in his life , but she had been clueless --- until now. arguably , even now was a bad moment to be confessing despite not saying a word. their lives didn't seem to be easing up anytime soon. however , he didn't know what or why miami had felt different than any other time they might have gone away. something shifted and he wondered if she had caught onto the way his gaze lingered a bit too long , how he stayed close even when the situation didn't call for it.
everything seemed to melt away when she continued the kiss , thumb caressing her cheek --- he'd never dared to do it before , maybe out of fear for overstepping boundaries they had put into place as teenagers but time was escaping them. she separated and all he could really do was stare into her eyes for any sort of hesitation on her end , the two remained close --- her eyes telling him everything he needed to know. whatever worry that had been culminating was eliminated as she kissed him once more. arm wrapped around her waist as if he could bring her any closer. after a moment , he separated , " was that why you were being weird in miami ? "
There was never a question when it came to how safe she felt with Santiago, of all people. Truly. She had always known that he was a phone call away, ready to drop just about everything to support her. Maybe it was naive of her to think that there had only ever been a friendship between them, but in reality, she couldn't blame herself for thinking that. Santiago, he had been a friend - his company often attached to happiness rather than the unknown usually attached to her romantic relationships. It was that feeling that made her laugh softly at his question; genuine and less guarded than she had felt in a long time.
Her forehead dropped against his briefly, the hand still in his hair sliding down to rest at the back of his neck instead, like she wasn't ready to create any distance between them yet despite the fact that he'd just asked her something she had absolutely no intention of answering directly. She pulled back just enough to look at him properly, eyes still bright with something she wasn't bothering to hide right now, which was already more than most people ever got from her. Her hand found his shoulder tracing down to his chest absentmindedly before playfully nudging him away from her.
"Shut up."
Her tone was soft though as the ghost of her laugh stayed on her face, her entire body shifting a bit closer as the haze from their kiss slowly dissipated and she realized that his arm was completely around her. Lottie's gaze lingered on his face, from his eyes to his lips, as it slowly dawned on her that maybe this was how it was supposed to feel and she hadn't realized it until just now. She found it hard to explain, as things started to slowly fall into place in her mind, but her proximity to him allowed him to see way more than she could ever say. At least for now.
