You can be the King But watch the Queen concur

Georgia started laughing as she sat there listening to Nola. “ Hmm you make a very good point, sometimes I do have to roll my eyes at the things people spend their money on. Honestly, it’s  crazy and would make for a great comedy show.”

“ A comedy? Girl, it’s a straight up tragedy. Shakespeare couldn’t even write it sadder than it is.” Nola sighed. “ You’re up. I hope all this time you figured out what you wanted cause I am not about to sit here for another ten minutes.” The woman grumbled, taking a moment to look over the woman. “ I know you from somewhere, don’t I? I can’t say I never forget a face, cause shit, I do it on purpose, but I know I’ve seen you.” 

“Because…I like, knowing things,” he answered, “it’s…interesting, the sort of things, people do, like sky diving…or learning to knit. People, are…well, a bit terrifying, but also, cool.” He smiled back. “I think, I understand. How far, would you go…for something that, felt right?” 

“ You like knowing things? You make putting on a dress and heels sound like looking up something on Google to bullshit a term paper.” Nola chuckled. “ How far would I go? Shit, I’ve gone to hell and back just to get what I’ve wanted. There’s nothing that could stop me from getting something I know can make me happy, you just have to never stop once  you start.  If you aren’t willing to put in the hours and deal with the hard times that come with it, you clearly don’t want it as bad as you think you do.”

Shying away from the towel as if it were an even remotely threatening object, a wide grin found its way onto Lucas’s features and a genuine laugh expelled from his lips. “Too old? Bullshit?” He questioned with widened eyes, making his best attempt at appearing to be shocked and appalled. “I am offended – have you never heard a man speak from his heart?” Lucas piled on the dramatics by using a hand to clutch at his chest briefly, shaking his head in disbelief. “And there’s no such thing as being too old – especially not for you, the laws of aging are too intimidated to come for you.” While his compliments were overdone on purpose, that didn’t mean they were any less sincere, beyond the amused sparkle in Lucas’s bright blue eyes was the gaze of an honest man and a fond smile to match his words of appreciation. There was a magic to Nola that brought forward the lighter side of Lucas, she made him feel safe and happy, a temporary cure for any sorrows he might be having. The male exhaled an exhausted sigh from his lungs when Nola told him what he, truth be told, already knew but chose to ignore whenever possible. “In this field? I expect nothing and hope for the best, but you’re right. You always are. It’s just that I’m…too passionate about the art. I forget that I must remove my rose-tinted goggles and let the reality of money hungry corporates settle in.”

Lucas wiped the pensive look from his expression by taking another drink from his glass. He closed his eyes temporarily, scrunching his face as Nola’s hand gave his cheek a teasing pat, opening them once again to watch the woman walk over toward the stove. Setting an elbow down on the counter beside him, he leaned comfortably while listening to the advice Nola had for him. Lucas hadn’t expected a fix to come of his complaining, but he was open to whatever she would suggest. She was incredibly successful and respected by all, she knew what she was doing and she knew how to play the game right. “I think you’re onto something grand,” Lucas beamed – he didn’t think, he knew. “I have plenty of connections to make the event one they couldn’t possibly forget and the board would jump for joy at the influx of donors, while at the same time, I’ll earn getting my leash loosened and I get to make the Whitney a better place.” The wheels were turning rapidly, already invisioning everything from a source of entertainment to key points in the address he’d make. “Since I’m good for nothing but my looks, can I at least provide some entertainment? I can put on a record,” he offered while already exiting the kitchen to delve into his collection. “Any requests?”

Have you never heard a man speak from his heart? Nola couldn’t hold back the laugh, looking Lucas’ way with a cocked brow. “ Not even once.” She chuckled, moving back to her food as she stirred in whatever spiced she could find.  His compliments made her feel charmed, of course, but she was too used to pleasantries by now, and too jaded to really take anything nice anyone said to heart. Her focus instead stayed on cooking and giving advice -- areas she knew she excelled in greatly and was all too happy to show off in as well. “ Baby, I’m telling you -- you need to keep your passion as your own and not go givin’ it away to just anybody. In this day and age, passion and kindness is a weakness that everybody is all too happy to take advantage of. You give the men their money and  you keep the passion and drive as your own reward. That’s the only real way to get ahead.” Nola stood firmly in this belief, having gone through so much of it herself in her life.  It wasn’t that she was trying to discourage Lucas, but he was too good, too kind, and she knew that the world would never stop eating up sweet people like him.

“Now you know I’m a sucker for Motown -- you got anything from the 70s?” She called, wanting to chge the topic to something light hearted for his sake. “ It’s the only time music was anything good and people put effort into being clever. and not just vulgar for shock value.” She insisted, knowing how old and stuck in her ways it made her sound. “You youngins don’t know nothing about what it was like to go out and have a good time just dancin. I went to a club opening last weekend and you look down from the VIP balcony and all you see if these girls twerkin’ they ass breaking somebody’s pelvis for a free drink. Hell, I dont’ have to tell you that; I’m sure when you go to the club you get he same damn thing, don’t you?” She chuckled.

Sebastian nodded. That was a lesson that everyone should learn. You get what you pay for. His first apartment had been cheap but the repairs had cost him a fortune over time. His eyes widened a bit when she looked at him and he remained perfectly still, unsure if he had done something wrong. “I-I just… wonder about, things sometimes,” he replied, “Being a, queen…isn’t really, something, I’ve thought about, before. Make up, and stuff…are too confusing.”

“Well if it aint your thing, why are you asking? I don’t know one boy who didn’t put on heels because he just felt like it. If you got a little RuPaul in ya it aint nothing to be ashamed of, baby.  You live in New York City -- we got a whole borough dedicated to Queens, so that aint nothin’ to be ashamed of.” Nola smiled. “Sure it can seem confusing at first, and I’d be a damn liar if I said it was comfortable, but when something just feels right, it’s right, and I know you knwo what I’m talking about.”

The moments that occurred upon Nola’s entrance unfolded like a scene directly off the silver screen – the lively ambiance of the workroom drained instantly and replaced with a deafening silence as fiery narrowed glances were exchanged between the two powerful women who stood on opposite sides of the room. With one swish of her fingers every model collectively gathered their jaws off the floor and cleared the room, leaving Carmen and Nola in a heated standoff. “How dare you.” Were the words that finally left her red lips after staring the other down for a long moment before Versace heels clicked across the marble floor with a purpose. “Listen to me,” the blonde began, her words sharp as knives as they flew from her tongue, meanwhile an almond shaped nail sternly pointed itself towards the other to make her point across, “—if you have an issue with me, you take it up with me privately — don’t you ever disrespect me in a room full of clients like that again. It’s one thing to carelessly tarnish your own reputation, but over my rotting corpse will I allow you to tarnish mine.”

Nola smirked as the models fled, not flinching of moving when Carmen stormed towards her in fury. It was obvious she wanted ot  get under the younger woman’s skin, if only for the sake of her ego, but still, part of her was acting from a place of love for someone else. Arms folding across her chest, she cocked her head to the side to show her lack of fear, Looking Carmen up and down with her grin in place. “ You disrespected yourself the moment you let yourself walk out the house looking like that.” She chuckled. “ And little girl, who the hell is you rollin’ up on like you the damn popo? You better back the hell up outta my face before you find a size eight so far up your ass you’ll have  Gucci on the brain for real.  Honestly.. you aint nothin but a buck oh five? Who ass you gone beat?” Nola cackled.

Georgia wasn’t someone who defined herself by her looks, there are some who’d argue she had to because of the line of work she was in. She knew she looked good but that wasn’t what was most important to her, it was just something that made her career possible. Georgia laughed again looking at Nola. “ Ahh if only life worked out that way!”

“Honeychild -- life is one big commercial. Whatever you advertise, people are gonna buy that shit up. You could sell a disease in a can and as long as the label is pretty I know there’s gonna be at least ten dumb ass white girl in the Valley begging they daddy to buy it for them because all that bleach done soaked into their brains and made it stop working.”

“Oh yes, absolutely. It’s such a double standard when it comes to most things. I don’t think there’s many jobs out there things are completely equal.” It was frustrating, and she knew Nola dealt with it as much as she did in her career. “Did you know a forty year old male surgeon who has only been working in the field for ten years makes about as much as I do?” The more they talked, the more she was leaning towards her own private practice. It was something she always wanted to do, but unfortunately never came to fruition. “You’re right. I’m too busy right now to look further into it, but I will once I have more time.” The flexible hours would be a nice change for her since her current schedule was pretty much set in stone. “The spa and concert sound great, but the date is a no-go. I’ve only been divorced from my asshole of a husband for six months. I’ve been enjoying the independence.” 

Lillian made several valid points, which didn’t shock Nola -- the doctor was an educated woman, but she was also street smart. “ Shit, do you know a forty year old surgeon who makes as much as you do? Cause if you do you better wear an extra short skirt to work next time you see him. “ Nola chuckled, sipping her drink happily. “Independence is good, I aint saying you need to get married again right away cause that shit it more headaches than it’s worth, but you shouldn’t tell yourself you’re done. You still got life in you, girl. You can just easy easy get a man to buy you dinner, keep your bed warm for a night then kick his ass out and go back to work the next morning. Men do it all the damn time, so can we. We earned that shit.”

Remy fought the urge to outright laugh at the suggestion. The woman was right, she’d hit the ground running and seen more in a decade than most saw in a lifetime. She had accumulated the means to the retire, and nearly losing her life on the last job should have been a warning that she might not be as lucky next time. Yet, retirement was the last thing on her mind; all she wanted was to be back on the job, feel blood pumping through her veins. She’d fought to survive, fought for everything she had. Although she now had the chance to, she didn’t know how to stop fighting. “I was shot,” Remy replied simply. “Spent long enough recovering that I know a slow pace of life isn’t my style. With all due respect, I’m babysitting you until my employers deem me fit to return to more important cases, where I belong.” She poured herself a cup of water but set it down without touching it. “In the meantime, I will do my job, and do it well. That alright by you?”

Maybe it was that Nola was just naturally nosy, or maybe it was that she never fully trusted people at their word -- hell,  it might have been a combination of both, but her inquiries for Remy weren’t meant to me taken disrespectfully. Upon hearing that she was shot, some things fell into place in her head. “ So you miss the action. “ Nola decided. It was the first thing Nola could actually understand; even when she’d retired as a model, she could never fully leave the fashion industry and the lifestyle that came with it.  A relaxed expression came across her face finally, offering a nod of respect to Remy as she agreed (to herself) to give this a try. “ Alright, you do your job. “ Nola said as she rose from her seat and moved to the edge of the table. “ And if you do it as well as you say, you could have a future in it should you not get thrown back into the action like you want. Now, I know aint nobody gon be shooting at me, so you wont have to take a bullet, but I can assume you that it wont lack excitement. for you. “ Nola smiled quickly, then turned her face back to it’s normal , hard expression. “ And one more thing -- I aint no baby, so this gon be the first and last time you say you’re babysitting my grown ass, you got that?”

“ A margarita and a foot rub.”

“I open my eyes and notice what a beautiful day it is and think to myself how soon as I step out the damn door someone’s gonna piss my ass off and ruin that beautiful day.”

“ Excuse me? You don’t know nothing about my son and what he’s been through. If I wasn’t there to protect him when his daddy was whoopin his ass and mine you wouldn’t even be able to say that cause he would be around today. If I wasn’t there to show him how to be a man and to be mature and responsible he’d be doing God knows what now cause he sure wasn’t gonna learn that from his father. I had to be mommy and daddy to my kids and put food on the table. You probably don’t even got kids so how the hell are you gon tell me how to be a mother to mine?”