— * pilar .

From experience alone, Pilar Vercio demands for an entire schedule wiped clean, rather than an hour gap between meetings. Their talks is the stuff of vivid Californian dreams, stretching from a late afternoon well into the mid-nights. Several glasses of wine were too few. But he’s happy to hang the politician coat up, and indulge with her. 

It’s still political, of course — words and paychecks still count, no matter how good the Bordeaux. But between the man and the image, she would always appreciate Julian’s most authentic self. Or — as much as he can manage it, anyway. 

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he says, and takes her hand. “Camilla just realized that if she pouts, then I won’t leave the house.” The older his daughter grows, the more daring she becomes. “You look stunning.” A timely kiss, to the back of Pilar’s knuckles. “Well, you can have as many as you won’t. So long as you don’t judge me for what I choose to have.” Quip, and a laugh. “How’s their Bourbon?” 

-

“ Haven’t I told you ? You have to sneak out the back once they hit a certain age . I’ve began to put both Nathaniel and Kendall to sleep — or at least try to occupy them the best way that I can — before making my grand escape . “ She chuckled , placing one of the empty shrimp shells back onto the tray of ice . The ambience was intimate - one would say a little too intimate for the conversation the two were set to have . Blame Pilar — she’s a woman of dramatics and honestly , the lounge had a mobster or ... gangster like feel . Meetings off the record sort of place . 

“ Their bourbon’s quite good actually and honestly , an old - fashioned sounds quite good right about now ... “ She lifted her hand to gently wave over a near-by server . “ I’m sure you’d like one too . Or are you gonna take yours neat on-the-rocks ? “ Pilar asked with a knowing tone , a quick smile forming . “ Just don’t drink too much , Gov’na . We have business to discuss tonight . “ 

His face visibly drops. “Yeah yeah, your lipstick tasted like soap.”

Such wishful thinking, that vixens from his past would recognize themselves as such — as not dare the audacity of mentioning his son into casual conversation. At least Pilar can draw from a similar sentiment. “Hmm. How old is yours?”

“Wall-Streetery things sometimes means a fucker who really wants a fucking Van Gogh.” He would never, ever get the hype. But then again, he likes his walls blank save for a meaningless black-on-white design or two. Canvases don’t hold any feeling — and if they did, that’s one more reason to avoid them. “My client should be here in twenty. The fuck is your excuse?” 

-

She scrunched her nose with a roll of her eyes . “ Chanel does have a tendency to have a DIAL soap aroma to it . “ 

The things that Pilar got into in her past would be enough to give the Pope himself a heart attack . She knew no bounds , her tank always ran on empty — fuck , she was running on fumes at one point . That bender must have lasted a couple of nights , fast forward to her waking up in SoHo house with nothing but a bikini thong and a cowboy hat on . Yeeeeeah , those were the days . “ Well Nathaniel’s turning eleven — Kendall just turned seven and she’s already wondering when she’ll get a another sibling . I DEAD-ED that conversation . “ She held her hand up with a shake of her head . 

The socialite rose her brows , a tilt of her head as she shrugged her shoulders . “ And you’re gonna broker that ? Hm , I wouldn’t put it past you - you have your way with words . “ She hummed , pursing her lips . “ Well I have a morning coffee date . He should be here any minute . Gonna convince him to invest in some art — my den walls are so sad in comparison to the rest of the house . “ 

status: open when: midday, 12:30pm where: New Haven Gardens

New Haven Gardens, or the Gardens as most of the community had called his business, was booming no matter what season it was. He loved the winter time with the abundance of kale and brussel sprouts, much to his youngest disgust when he'd bring those home, but he knew the spring was the busiest season. He could put his finger on it but people liked cucumbers the most and he would, along with others who tended gardens, would sell out of them quickly. Gael tried to focus on the gardens and be business as usual when he was there but the second he'd get a call from one of his daughters, he'd have laser focus on them.

He had his back turned at his booth as he was on the phone with his youngest daughter, "Vivi, cariño, por favor baja la velocidad. I already told you that you can't sleep over at Sophia's house, you've got soccer practice in the morning and I know how you are in the mornings. You can see her after practice and spend the night then." Gael heard someone clear their throat behind him and he made the move to end the call, "I'll talk to you when I get home, okay? Love you." Gael hung up the phone and turned to face the front, "I'm sorry about that, teenagers ya know? How can I help you?"

-

Why her youngest was DEAD SET on having ratatouille for the dinner tonight was absolutely beyond Pilar . She had been begging for what seemed like days for the two of them to create the dish together ever since Kendall saw that damn Pixar movie . It was all she could think about , talk about ,  and with Pilar , being the ... somewhat hands-on-mom she is , decided to step into the kitchen and figure the whole recipe out . Even if she hadn’t cooked a dish since ... shit not even she could remember . Of course she could have had the nanny get in there - hell , even paid their chef a bit more to walk Ken through the steps . But this was a bonding moment for a mother and her daughter . 

Stepping into the the Gardens , Pilar cleared her throat as she looked around ; her eyes falling to the recipe page highlighted on her phone . Every ingredient she needed right there and yet , she had no idea where the hell to start . Squash ... she fuckin’ hated squash . Not the taste , but the consistency when it was cooked . Blegh , not her fave . Seeing the gentleman on the phone , she could only assume that he worked there . Or if he didn’t , probably would be able to point her in the right direction . Clearing her throat , she fondled with the silk bandana wrapped around her Birkin bag as she tilted her head — a small smile etched upon her face . “ I’ve got a teenager myself - two actually . Well one likes to think she’s a teenager . I keep having to tell her that thirteen MAY have teen in there , but you’re still PRE that . “ She chuckled , shaking her head . “ But yeah um , do you happen to have EVERYTHING on this list here ? I’d hate to go to Whole Foods . The air in there makes me get hives . “ She handed over the phone to the other , puckering her lips together . 

Open Starter Location - Faux Follie 

Dakota was going on hour three of bartending, as he watched the bar fill up. Already three shots deep, he wasn’t trying to continue this night sober. Sure it brought him money, but it wasn’t like he enjoyed what he was doing. Besides it was all a front anyways. 

There are many things that Dakota lets slide. Slides with socks, chipped nail polish, cracked phone screens, the list goes on. However one thing that gets his blood boiling though, is when someone can’t take no for an answer. He’s cross faded and maybe that’s why he isn’t measuring his actions the way he should (unsurprising, really). After watching the guy go at the other person for the third time when the answer is still no, he’s had enough. Walking over towards the pair, he slams his hand onto the bar counter and gives the man a nod. “They said no man, maybe you should grab your ballerina shoes and dance on out of here.” This? This is how he ends up in a bar fight with a stranger over another stranger. Hopping over the top of the bar, punches are thrown left and right. Within seconds he’s being pulled back and the other guy is being escorted out. “Hey you good?” He said running a hand through his hair. 

It had been a hot minute since the socialite had been to the Faux Follie . In fact , she could barely remember her last time at the nightclub . But she did remember the morning after and how incredibly FUCKED up she was . Fifty or not , the woman knows how to have a good fucking time . But this guy who had been trying to get her attention for the last fifteen minutes was not helping whatsoever . She could smell the lingering alcohol on his breath and the faint tuft of white powder that adorned his nostrils ; hell , he comes up to her like this and couldn’t even over a line or two ? Fucker . Fanning her hand , the woman rolled her eyes ; ready to give him a piece of her mind only to be interrupted by someone already coming to her defense and rescue .

Being pulled away by someone in her entourage , Pilar looked on short brawl ; exhaling the second the two men were pulled away from one another . Once the dust had settled , her grey eyes fall upon the gentleman who had stepped in — a smile slowing making its way along her face . “ Perfectly fine . You always step in for damsels in distress or was this just a one off thing ? ... You know what , who cares — lets me buy you a drink in thanks . “ 

Pilar had the tickling craving for seafood for a while . But not just any seafood — a nice , extravagant tower from Mastro’s Steakhouse . Never one to enjoy the smell of offices , she would much rather discuss her business over a drink or few and a nice , expensive meal . After all , one can always deal who you’re dealing with based o n their drink order ... at least , that’s what Pilar always believed . Hell , she didn’t nab four husbands in her sleep — the woman was observant which is why she invited Julian Berkeley out for the evening . She had been pushing back their meeting for the longest , mostly due to other obligations . Although she had donated in the past for his Govornor campaign , Pilar needed a little bit more convincing if she was going to drop checks for a Berkeley Presidential Campaign ... or maybe part of her just wanted to hear Julian sell himself a little bit . 

Breaking off the tail of a shrimp , the brunette sucked the juiced from the tail before placing the plump meat into her mouth . Her eyes flickered over to the approaching host — her guest surely had arrived . “ Sorry for eating without you , Berkeley . I just can’t resist shrimp cocktail . “ 

—

Iconic is one of the many words to describe the sight of a New York City socialite and a Wall Street banker meeting just outside of the met — her bearing a nose pointed at the sky, and him, smoking cigarettes for breakfast. Both rotten, somehow.

“’Iconic?’” A double-take, and a shrug. All his son says is… a bunch of noises, so far. “Fuck if I know.”  

Hans exhales discarded smoke, and eyes between Pilar, and the bagel. Flare-ups. If you look very closely, you can actually spot the sheer horror behind his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, I already ate five hours ago.” If celery juice can even be considered food or fuel. “Besides, carbs can’t be fucking good for it either.” He eyes the bagel again. “Whatever, give me that.”  

“ Well aren’t you just the helpful one , Mr . Starke . “ Pilar teased , handing over the bagel ; eyeing it herself before holding up a hand . “ Wait one moment — “ She hummed , lifting the bread to her mouth to take a quick bite before handing it over . “ And don’t say I have cooties either — I remember once upon a time we shared a cigarette together . “

Huh , that’s Pilar for you — always going back into the past . She just loves the nostalgia that comes with it . “ — Among a few others things . But neither of us can do that anymore besides I’m a woman of faith and you are a father to a loving , growing baby boy . We have to be good role models now . “ Who the hell was she kidding with that one . Pass a bump to that woman and she’d sniff it in a heartbeat .

“ Anyway , aren’t you supposed to be on Wall Street doing ... Wall Street-y things at this time in the morning ? “ 

“ Now I have no idea who is in charge of all of the hot dog stand coffee in New York , but i am APPALLED that they got rid of the iconic blue cup . Is that the proper word ? Iconic ? My son says it all the time so i honestly never know if i’m using it in the right context . “ The socialite threw her free hand in the air , fanning away the current conversation with a short shake of her head . “ Anyway , are you hungry ? That sweet man at the stand gave me an extra bagel . No cream cheese though , sue me . I’ve been having flare ups and the last thing I need is dairy getting added to the mix . “ Pilar held out the bread , dressed in a thin layer of wax paper . “ Go on , it’s not poison . Swear . “