#zara001

Roman regarded Zara Demirci with a sense of hesitation he did for anyone in the same realm of business as the publicist. He thought she was fine enough, but she also dealt more with Ophelia than Roman himself, because he didn’t really need a publicist, not now, not when his glory days were well and truly behind him. ‘I'm too old to start again.’ He had said to his sister when she had discussed work in the public eye he could pursue, one of many excuses when she made him give a reason for saying no. Still, he kept nice for Ophelia’s sake, but he couldn’t help but think that was partly Toni’s influence as well on not being immediately hostile to people regardless if they deserved it or not. Damn fucking man softening his heart. 

Still, he tried to keep his distance with Zara when he could. So, when he found that he was behind in line for Latte Love, he only had a five second window to turn around and go over the road to Caffélicious, and yet…shit, she spotted him. “Zara. Hello.” 

Of all the places to meet up for lunch, the gritty little sandwich shop wasn’t on Madisyn’s top list of backdrops for a serious business meeting. Okay, so, it wasn’t exactly gritty, and was in one of the nicer areas that Blue Harbor had to offer, but it wasn’t exactly La Galleria or Oyster & Pearl. 

At least it wasn’t either of the bars in Weaver Ridge. That neighborhood was just down right scary.

Still, she met up with Zara with apprehension, aware that this little catch up would go one of two ways. The publicist would either bend to Madisyn’s will and she’d leave a happy client, or she’d be a complete bitch and upset the influencer turned llama farmer. And it didn’t take a genius to work out which outcome would most likely happen. 

“Babe!” She called in greeting, spotting Zara on a nearby table as she flung the doors open, hoping that the dramatic entrance would have a few eyes on her. What was the point of announcing yourself if there was no one to bear witness, after all? “It is super good to see you, my love. Been so long.”