Author: Schubach, Erik
Date: 2017-05-22
Publisher: Erik Schubach

The Pike: Evermore

By Erik Schubach

Copyright © 2017 by Erik Schubach

Self publishing

P.O. Box 523

Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026

Cover Photo © 2017 RbvRbv DepositPhotos.com licence,

Subarashii21 / Blambca / Iconic Bestiary ShutterStock.com licenses

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Manufactured in the United States of America

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-9985110-5-4

Prologue

I sat with the twins Maxine, and Teddy, my niece and nephew extraordinaire in the back room of our bakery, The Pike, here at Pike Place Market in Seattle.  We huddled around the iPad as we watched Na Na Evermore's latest podcast.

She was sort of the bad girl of the underground rock and punk scene here in Seattle.  And she had the looks to sell it well.  What with her long sweeping black mohawk, the rest of her hair shaved, and those black tattoos all around her neck she wore like a lace collar that made you want to see the rest of them.  Her dark makeup completed the punk rock clubbing girl look with her leathers.

And if I were ever to travel the spectrum of the dating rainbow, Na Na Evermore would be the type to get my motor purring.  She sort of already did as it was.

The music world stopped to listen when she spoke.  Whether it was about up and coming bands or singers, or fashion style, her predictions may as well have been the law of the land.  I don't think the woman has ever picked a lame duck.

Quack.

I know, I know, don't look at me like that.  The Evermore Plain Truth blog and podcasts aren't strictly PG enough for viewing by twelve-year-olds, but I'm the bad aunt who gets to spoil her niece and nephew and teach them how to make proper mischief before returning them to my sis.

We watched as Na Na swung her mohawk from side to side at whatever underground rave she had been reporting from as she yelled over the thrash metal piece, “Iron Destiny is the shit, everyone.  If they aren't signed by the end of the year, then I'll retire my dog collar.  They have that unique classic sound that they blend seamlessly with the more invasive shredding that is becoming more widely accepted in the scene.”

Some guy wearing far too much eyeliner, and multiple tongue piercings shoved his face in front of her camera.  She stomped his foot and then kicked him in the butt when he bent over to cradle his foot.  He fell beside the mosh pit.  She yelled over her shoulder, “Instruct him that it's fuckin' rude to interrupt, would ya?”

Multiple hands reached out and pulled the guy into the mosh pit, and she turned back to the camera, then did what only Na Na Evermore could pull off, and she squished her head to her shoulders and scrunched up her face.  She could go from badass to infinitely adorable in two seconds flat, and that just cemented her as an immortal in the entertainment world.

We all looked up from the pad and shared grins, then went back to watching.  She pointed the camera at the stage for a few moments so we could get a taste of the band, then back to herself.  She held up her wrist to show off a new heavy silver chain that looked to be constructed of Celtic knots and pointed to it and simply said, “Remington Creations.”

She was always showing off the latest edgy clubbing gear, and vendors clamored to have her show off their gear.  She did reach over a million viewers with each podcast after all.

Then she said, “I'm going to get back to the performance, so this is Na Na Evermore signing off, I offer no bullshit, just...”  We joined in when the people at the rave all yelled, “The plain truth!”

We high fived each other then froze as someone cleared their throat behind us, and my older sis, Zoey, asked in the same voice which was standard issued to all mothers, “Really, Eve?  Do you really think that the Evermore Plain Truth is something my children should be watching?”

We all turned, sharing the universal 'busted' look with each other.  I put on my toothiest grin and said, “Absolutely.  It is very educational.”

Maxine agreed as she said, “You should have seen her new midriff leather jacket mom, it was sexy, can I get one for the start of junior high?

I dropped my head, shaking it as I muttered out the side of my mouth, “Not helping, kid.”

Zoey crossed her arms and pointed out expectantly, one eyebrow cocked, “You're twelve, Maximus Prime.”

Max grinned and crossed her arms in an eerie pantomime of her mother's stance.  Their dark red hair a mirror of each other's and the slight smirk they shared told you that Max was going to be a stunner like her mom when she grew up.  “We'll be thirteen in a week.”  She lifted her chin imperiously.

I enjoyed the tremor of a smile quirking at the corners of my sister's mouth, as she tried to play the stern parent.  She wasn't fooling anyone, well except Teddy, who was lowering his head and saying, “Sorry mom.”

I hugged the poor boy to me and put him in a headlock so I could ruffle his hair.  He was getting so big.  He was already taller than me, and Max was getting close.

Zoey gave them mercy and pointed at Maxaroonie and said, “No.”  Then clapped her hands at all three of us. “Come on, chop chop, the bakery won't open itself.”

We all grinned and got to work.

Once the kids ran out to stock the front cases with fresh pastries and bread, Zo shuffled over to me, bumped my hip as she looked at the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the front room, “Do they know yet?”

I shook my head and grinned up at her.  “Nope.  I can keep a secret.  Besides, Nala is in here frequently with her BFF Madelyn.  It's not like it will be the first time the twins stood in shock like blubbering buffoons around the woman.”

Na Na Evermore's real name was Nala Dupree, and she was actually a really sweet woman who was sort of the opposite of what you would think of a punk princess.  She took on a dangerous hardness that was quite impressive when she was defending her friends, but besides that, I think she's actually pretty insecure and lonely in the sea of admirers that flock around her.

She sort of latched onto a couple girlfriends of ours, regulars at the Pike, Madelyn Stone, and Officer Danielle O’Brien.  And I've seen an almost imperceptible change in her podcasts since.  She seems to smile more and do cute things more than she used to.  I think it is that they are real friends, not like the ones who like to ride on the coattails of her fame.

A local news channel has pitched an idea to her, to use her insane popularity get her opinions out in a more PG friendly format, in a weekly segment they want to call Seattle Evermore, so that it didn't interfere with her normal podcasts and blog.  And have her talk about local people and businesses that she feels comfortable endorsing that are a hallmark of the Seattle in-scene.

This was a way for her to expand her ever-growing entertainment media empire and her brand.  I can imagine the copious amounts of money they stacked around her to convince her.  The only concession was that she had to curb her proclivity for four-letter expressions on the new segment.

After weeks of negotiations with the station, she approached us and asked if we wanted to be the focus of the flagship episode of the segment.  That she'd feel more relaxed around friends.  We could only imagine the boost in sales we would receive from the broadcast.  Zoey exploded into a shower of yeses.  I was afraid I'd have to get a mop out to clean them all up.

We decided to keep it a secret from the twins, as Maximilian idolizes Nala so this would be a great surprise for her.

Zoey and I shared the all knowing sister grin and nod as we got back to work.  We'd be flooded with our morning regulars in just a few minutes, and there were croissants to be baked!

Chapter 1 – Premiere

I exhaled audibly as I stared in the mirror.  I held the tail of my mohawk in my hand, indecision frustrating me.  Should I braid it and hide it like normal?  Ponytail and let people see it for once?  Or do I do as Maddie says and be myself instead of the character I project to everyone and let it down for once?

My waist length black hair was sort of my secret pride.  It reminds me not to buy into the persona I feel is my alter ego now.  Na Na Evermore.  It reminds me that I'm an actual real person under all the layers of bullshit I have draped upon myself to forge my media empire.  It is the last bit of Nala that I refuse to give up for the sake of making a living as this larger than life caricature of myself which I project to the world.

I let the black locks puddle around my shoulders and cascade down my back.  I smiled weakly.  And muttered wistfully at my reflection, “Hi Nala.”  Then I grinned back at myself and stood taller and started braiding the tail to tuck under my blouse.

I almost snorted at the outfit I chose for my first live broadcast with KVRL in my Seattle Evermore segment.  I had to fight the station tooth and nail to name the segment consistent with the branding I have built up since my college years as a marketing major.  The brand that has put me, a nobody, on the global map of the music scene.

I looked at the professional business suit I wore, which would have looked at home on any news anchor.  But with my tats and mohawk, it was like thumbing my nose at the establishment, and that would play into my character well.  Hell, I was going to enjoy the reactions it garnered from anyone who either knew me or knew of me.  Sometimes I can't figure out where Nala ends, and Na Na begins, since we both have the same wicked sense of humor, and I believe her foul mouth has wormed its way into my own vernacular as well.

But with all the drawbacks, she has made me stronger, that is something I cannot deny.  I'm not the same mousy girl I had been back in school, afraid of my own shadow, watching others live life from a distance, from the fishbowl I lived in.  Now I 'am' the shadow, and can take strength from it and live in the spotlight.  Though I've learned that sometimes that same spotlight can burn.  And sometimes, it is so bright that you can you lose sight of yourself.

Madelyn and Dani don't see Na Na in me, and that grounds me.  I'm so glad I befriended them, since I was getting confused as to who I really was and who I really wanted to be.  It is awesome to have friends who can remind me that I can just be me, and have fun with the people I like, instead of living in the sea of paparazzi and hangers-on in my entourage who just want to capitalize on my fame for their own uses.

I tucked the braid into the white pressed blouse then adjusted the collar, unbuttoning a button to let my necklace tats show, as well as a good amount of cleavage. Enough to see just a hint of my black lace bra.

Hey, they said I had to curb my language, not my sexuality.  As much as I am loathe to admit, sex sells.  It made me an internet sensation, and I have expanded into other markets because of it.  Case in point, this new gig, which is sort of my first legit professional job.  I've not had to work for anyone for a paycheck since my junior year in college, when Na Na was born out of necessity.

I knew I had to get serious about cementing my brand since time is unforgiving, unyielding, and beauty fades.  One day I will wake up to find that the scene has moved on to a new, younger idol to fill my boots, and Na Na Evermore will just be a memory.  Like the 80s bands who keep doing reunion tours just to re-live their glory days.

By establishing my brand and growing my empire, I'll have something to fall back on.  I have relationships with most of the record studios, and high-end custom accessories and clothing manufacturers for the scene.  I created an eCommerce arm this year to hawk the gear which I'm a walking billboard for.

Speaking of.  I slipped on another contrast to the business suit, a chainmail fingerless glove that is attached to a silver ring on my middle finger, allowing the fine silver chainmail to drape across the back of my hand, and then attach to my wrist with a single loop of silver.

Anarchy 5 created this 'Ethereal Armor' specifically for me, so I'll tout the edgy punk silversmith for my usual twenty percent referral fee of all profits.  I make almost as much from referral fees from various vendors, as I make from advertisers on my blog and podcast.

I couldn't full out endorse the piece on the segment, though I did negotiate product placement and mentions in the credits on the show and on the news station's website.  Though the bastards will get fifty percent of my referrals for those items.  KVRL has more money than God, so it was sort of a poke in the eye that they wanted to dip into my pocket too.  Tit for tat I suppose.

I slipped into the black kitten heels, with their cute little skull under the black bows.

Ok, that was me not Na Na.  But they were adorable.

It's been forever since I've worn anything but my shit kicking, platform thigh highs during a broadcast, but I was trying to appear like I was wearing a costume for this.  I felt the heels would be a nice touch.

If it weren't for my hair, makeup, and ink, I'd look like a fairly respectable news anchor.  Well, and the black nails.  And the piercings... oh just shut up.

I looked back when someone knocked lightly on the bathroom door.  Madelyn called out, “Nala, come on, I'm going to be late getting my cart to the opening bell at the Market if you don't get your ass in gear now.”

I grinned back at the door.  Madelyn had recently made a splash on the art scene with her unique fabric dyeing art.  She could create an entire universe on a piece of fabric with nothing but inspired strokes of dye.  I always felt like I was stepping back through time, looking at the glimpses of the past she incorporates into all of her scenes.  A local gallery is showing a grouping of her works, entitled fittingly enough, Winds of Change.

But she has stayed true to herself.  She still takes out her cart every day to Pike Place Market to sell her hand-dyed scarves, and handmade felt hats.  I don't think she has realized just how much her art was about to change the world as she knew it.  I was glad I had a front row seat.

I was so nervous about this first broadcast that she had volunteered to drive me there when she went to work.  We'd only have a few minutes to visit with the sisters at the Pike before Maddie had to open her cart and the camera crew showed up at the bakery for me.

I still wasn't exactly sure what to expect.  I was going to meet my, umm... producer... for the segment there.  I had always done my own thing and hoped that someone else dictating things wasn't going to be a deal breaker for me.  The studio assured me that this Porter character was top notch.

I called out with a grin on my lips, “Cool your knickers, brat.”

She giggled.  “Knickers?  What, are you British now?”  I grinned at the door then took a deep breath and looked in the mirror one last time.  I exhaled and said to myself, “You got this.”

I pulled on Na Na's confidence and turned and opened the door to look down at Madelyn.  She had pink hair today, and was wearing one of her floppy wide brim hats.  She was such a cutie and didn't even realize it.  I'm so glad she has her Officer Dani to remind her of it every day.

I squished my lips over to one side and rolled with her British quip. “Fine, you pushy wanker, let's get our arses in gear.”

She giggled and pointed at me as she said, “That accent's actually pretty sexy.  You should go with that.”

I pushed her shoulder and muttered, “See?  Brat.”

I glanced around my loft.  “No Danielle today?”

She shook her head as she glanced out the loft windows at Puget Sound below.  I loved the view here, that's why I picked this retrofitted old warehouse over any of the posh condos I checked out when I got a place of my own.

I had the whole second floor and roof to myself.  The first floor housed a vintage record shop, Spinners, a tattoo parlor, Ratz, and a private dance studio where I worked out during their off hours.  It was such a pain staying in shape, just to maintain my public image.

She took a moment to look me up and down and shook her head. “For something that should look normal, that actually looks like you are poking fun at the station and female professionals.  Yet somehow, you make it work.”

I grinned and quipped, “You smooth talker you.  Backhanded compliment accepted.  Now didn't you say we were going to be late?”

She rolled her eyes, and we headed out.  I grinned when she punched in her own code at the freight elevator to operate it.  Only she and Dani had access to my Fortress of Solitude, none of my posse even had a code.  Again, this told me that these two were the only ones I really trusted, my only true close friends.

I know it sounds all gloom and doom and isn't as bleak a friendship landscape as I paint.  I had plenty of people I'd classify as friends, like the sisters at the Pike, my ever entertaining webmaster, Reese Qualls, and believe it or not, Mandy Fay Harris herself.  But these two had my complete trust that they had my back.  Me, Nala.  Though Mandy seems almost scarily aware of how I feel in my punk media queen persona.

We hit the little corridor lobby between the dance studio and Spinners, and headed to the front doors.  Maddie said to me in a resigned tone, “Shields up,” as she opened the door for me.  I stood up taller and put on my kick ass and take names face then stepped confidently out onto the sidewalk.

I was berated by a couple reporters, and I ignored their questions.  One paparazzi got in my face with his camera, which he was wearing as a new eyepiece after I grabbed the lens with one hand and shoved his camera back in his face.  Yup, I could expect another piece about how I attacked a poor little photographer in the daily rags.

Madelyn was scurrying along in my shadow, and I reached back and dragged her up beside me.  I chastised, “No hiding.”

My posse was hanging around on the walk, leaning against the wall near their rides.  What a motley crew they were.  A ragtag band of hardcore rockers and punk aficionados who have attached themselves to me in one way or another over the years.

The useful ones I keep around, the rest I have the tendency to send packing.  And as dysfunctional as our relationship was, I still liked the group, even though I knew they were only around because of Na Na's fame.  That was the only reason I don't know if I'd exactly call them my friends, but we were friendly at least, and we got along famously.

Brandon held open the door of his shiny black Escalade SUV, with its chrome trim.  He usually drove me around.  I don't remember the last time I pulled my bike out of the little garage out back.  That made me think.  I guess I only ride anymore when I have personal business to attend to anymore.

Brandon's family is old money, and from what I gather, he doesn't really work.  He has a “Style Agency” that his parents set up for him, but I don't know what that is or what he does since he spends most of his time hanging around with me.  But he's funny, and hey, free chauffeur.

Kat and Bethany waved a good morning to me from his back seat.  I kept walking, knocking his shoulder with mine as I passed, saying, “The shrimp has me this morning.”  He just inclined his head and ran around to the driver's side to follow us when we headed out.

I was hopping a little bit after that, when Maddie kicked my shin.  “I'll give you shrimp, right between the eyes.”  I grinned down at her.  That's why I loved her, she calls me on my bullshit every time.  I'm amazed that Danielle has survived so long with her without getting buried in a shallow grave in some nearby forest.

Then she blushed and said as we loaded up in her rusted out truck, which had her vendor cart secured in the bed.  “You don't need to ride with me.  I'm sure Brandon's SUV is more comfortable and has air conditioning.  My truck isn't as... glamorous.”

I just grinned at her and waited patiently for her to start the beast up.  Then I offered, “You know that with your commissions from the Downtown Gallery, you can get a new truck, ten times over.”

She shrugged like she does, checked the mirror to make sure her wig was secured well under her hat, then asked, “Why?  This truck has never let my brother and me down, it's been with me since I got my license.  And Sparkplug keeps it running strong for me.  Gives the old man something to do.”

Then she added with more meaning than one would think at first blush, “You don't just throw something away because you can.”  There were so many implications and buried meanings in those simple words that it was almost frightening.

The roar of the engine precluded me from giving any response.  She grinned smugly at me, and I looked lazily out the window, capitulating, “Got it.  You win.”  Then added with a lazy smirk, “Shrimp.”

She was all smiles and innocence now as she nodded to herself as we pulled out into traffic, “Damn skippy.”

I squinted one eye and just had to ask, “Damn skippy?”

“Shut up.”

I chuckled at her as I glanced back to see the procession behind us.  Three posse-mobiles and the inevitable paparazzi.

There were more of them than usual today, likely because of the new segment I was to be broadcasting today.  Bet they're expecting some sort of blowup that would have the city blushing and  the FCC leveling fines against the station.

I shook it off and I engaged in small talk with Mads as we went along, my nerves over this news segment causing my anxiety to spike.  Then before I was ready, we were pulling up along the main arcade at Pike Place.  The posse went past us to find parking, except for Brandon.  He parked in front of us and hopped out quickly to rush back to help with the cart.  Say what you will about the guy, but he is pretty considerate for a rich kid.

I noted Kat and Bethany didn't get out to help.  I keep track of these things mentally, so I know when it is time to thin the herd a bit.

The three of us unloaded the cart, then I said, “I'll hang until you find parking.”

She saluted and hopped back into the truck and drove to the parking garage at the end of the market, Brandon's vehicle following behind.  Madelyn's brother usually drove her, but he had another job now... a legit one.  One that will keep him out of jail.

I took the time to ignore a man across the street that I saw hanging out his car window with his camera in hand.  What kind of money shot does he think he'd get with me standing by Maddie's cart?  What a waste of time and resources.

Who in their right of mind wakes up one morning and has an epiphany, “Hey, I think I'll grab a camera and go poke my nose into other people's personal lives.  That's what I want to do for a living.” Dumb fucks, that's who.

I glanced at the cart and grinned.  Nobody could ever say that Madelyn Stone was lazy.  She was always creating fabric art, making merchandise to sell in the market, attending art showings at the gallery, and still having time for her overly cute officer girlfriend.

It's like she had some sort of time dilation device that allowed her to get more done in a day than the rest of us mortals.  And again, she didn't need to bake in the sun at the Market every day anymore, but she did.  I glanced around at all the vendors setting up for the day before the opening bell.  It was an amazing place, not just for its tourism value.  I could see why she liked it here so much.  It was a community.

I grabbed the handles on the cart and started rolling it to where I knew my friend enjoyed watching the opening ceremony each day, as my people started arriving.  I grinned at them as I pushed the cart, remembering the hilarious story of how Dani and Sparkplug had rebuilt the wheels on it.  It rolled well so I'd count the story as a success.

My people were such a patchwork group.  Spanning the spectrum from clubbers to rockers and punkers.  But each of them had a use in my collective.  Whether it was contacts in the underground rave scene, to acquisitions for the eCommerce site, or even things as simple as a parent being an investment banker I could tap the brain of.

At one time I felt almost guilty that I used them for my own needs until I realized it was a two-way street.  A symbiotic relationship in which we each got something out of.

Madelyn caught up with me and looked me up and down, straightened the collar of my professional jacket and said, “Now shoo.  You have somewhere to be by opening bell too.  Good luck, lady.”

I gave a strained, toothy grin to her, playing up my nervousness.  Then I put on my over confident mask with a little smirk, which just got her hamming it up and giving me two thumbs up before shaking her head, waving me off, and turning back to her cart.  I blurted out a laugh at her antics, then spun on one of my kitten heels and marched off toward the Post Street Alley buildings and the Pike.

The others joined up just as we arrived.  I noted the news van parked at the curb and people gathered by the door to the building, some heading in.  I sure hope this didn't disrupt the Pike's sales today.  The bakery wasn't that big, and with a camera man, me, and what looked to be three assistants or techs... then my people, there wouldn't bee too terribly much room for customers.  Especially for the regulars.

I second guessed my determination that this was a good idea.  The last thing I wanted was to negatively impact the sisters here.  I really liked them.

I looked around to my crew and said, “Only a couple in the bakery itself, ok?  We don't need to crowd out their customers.”

They nodded, and Brandon and Spike stepped forward with their HD handhelds.  They were always ready to provide b-roll and promo shots.  I'm still not sure what Spike's real name is.  He doesn't really talk much, or really at all, but he is a video editing wizard.  We all just call him Spike because of the three huge spikes in his green mohawk, and his five lip spikes.

He runs an appointment only piercing boutique for the scene, and that's where you can find him when he isn't hanging with me.  I'm pretty sure he and Kat have something going on between them.  Bed buddies or something since, besides physical compatibility, they don't seem to like each other much.

He just sort of followed us one night to my office and started editing the video Brandon had shot that night, doing a professional quality job of it.  Hell I could use talent like that.  He and Brandon have been with me almost since the beginning.

I looked at the contrast between Spike's classic punk appearance, and Brandon's clean-cut, bad boy look in his thousand dollar clubbing gear.  It was just a jacket away from being formal business attire, and he made it look good.  He always sported the obligatory three-day stubble that was just as much of a front as my own facade.

I approached the gaggle of newsies at the door, and an average height blonde woman, who wore a professionally relaxed outfit, stepped forward, giving me an appraising look and cocking an eyebrow at me.  I thought to myself out loud, “And this would be my producer from the studio, Porter.”

She met my eyes, and her eyebrow cocked a little higher, I cocked my eyebrow in return and then smirked as I ran my hands along the lapels of my jacket, “What?  It seemed appropriate.”

She chuckled and exhaled with a grin and leaned in a bit and confided, “Na Na Evermore and appropriate, are diametrically opposed concepts.  That's the whole reason we are all here today.”

She offered a hand. “Porter.  Porter Graves.  As you surmised, I'm the producer for the Seattle Evermore segment.  It's a pleasure to meet you in person.  I'll admit to watching your podcasts, you have that certain something that makes people listen... in between profanities that is.”

I grinned, she wasn't the stick up the ass I thought she'd be.  I shook her hand then saluted, my mohawk bobbing as I said with military precision, “Message received, no fuckin' cussing on air.”  Then I added, “I'd say it was my pleasure as well, but I don't know how much of a buzzkill you're gonna be yet.”

She was stopping herself from chuckling as she fought off a smile, and said with a touch of humor, “I'll make you a deal, don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with you.  We both have a job to do, and I prefer this venture to succeed.”

I nodded at that, a slight smirk on my face at her profanity. “Fair enough.”

She said, “Now then before we go in we have...”

A small voice beside us finished her sentence, “...the finalized contracts both lawyers agreed to.”

I glanced over, then down... and down.  A short brunette with a yellow ribbon in her hair was holding a sheaf of papers up to us.  She was even shorter than Madelyn.  Was she even five feet tall?  She wore a sailor style white and blue blouse with a blue skirt.  I had to grin at the Pusheen watch she wore on her wrist.  I couldn't see the color of her eyes because she was looking down and away bashfully.  Holy mother of all things cute, Batman.

A little chibi inside my head was hugging herself and gushing, “Dawww,” and I couldn't stop my smile.

Porter grinned at the woman and then said to me as I looked over the document, “You'll have to...”

The other girl stood on her tippy toes to look at the contract in my hands and said, “...initial at the two green arrows, and sign at the pink.”

I patted my pockets, but the short woman had anticipated this and held a pen up to me.  I accepted it with a grin and hesitated when I looked at it.  It was a purple pen with JiJi, the animated black cat from the KiKi's Delivery Service anime, sitting on the top of it.  I grinned as I depressed the cat and the ballpoint of the pen clicked out.

Then I turned my thoroughly amused attention to the PostIt sticky-back arrows on the pages as she turned them for me and pointed as I started initialing.  Someone had googly eyes drawn on them.  When I signed the last page and dated it, she pulled the papers away.

Then Porter said, “And we'll need you to...”

The girl materialized another sheet from the paperwork she carried and finished, “...sign a waiver for using your likeness in station promotions.”

She held the document on top of the others so I could sign, which I did after a cursory glance at the verbiage.  I know my lawyer goes over every scrap of paperwork I sign, but I still like to have a general idea of what I am signing.

I started to ask, “Can I...”

She finished, “...get a copy for your records?  Of course, I'll have a copy in your email before we finish today, and will mail out hard copies by certified mail by the end of the business day to you and your counsel.”

I blinked at her efficiency and started to thank her, “Tha...”

She blushed and hugged the papers to her chest and said, “You're welcome.”

Porter chuckled at my overly entertained look and said, “Miss Dupree, this is Karmin Hughes.  She's...”

Karmin finished for her, “...assigned to you as your PA for the Seattle Evermore segment.”

Porter continued like she hadn't been hijacked mid-sentence. “We all just call her Cassandra since she seems to know what we need before we even know it.”

I smiled at the reference.  In mythology, Cassandra was a woman who was given the gift of prophecy by Apollo in an attempt to woo her.  She refused him, so he turned the gift into a curse so that even though she tried to save people with her prophecies, nobody would believe what she said.

Hey, don't look at me like that.  I'm quite well educated despite the look I wear.  As my alter ego would say, I know shit, ok?

Porter pulled my attention away from the girl who was now rocking on her heels humming a vaguely familiar tune to herself. “The gaffer is setting up lighting in the bakery for the cameraman, and they'll be ready for us soon.  The segment starts in fifteen.”

I was absently nodding, causing my high reaching mohawk to bob and sway as she continued, “I wanted to go over how we'll handle the segment.  I...”

I held up a hand. “Whoa now.  Hold on there, I do things my way.”

She started to argue. “There are certain formatting norms that we have to...”

I stopped her right there by stating, “Listen darlin', does any part of me look as if I follow the norms?”

She exhaled and said patiently, “I know reining you in is going to be like herding a passel of gerbils into a corral, but there are things we need to go over quickly.  Your live segment is seven and a half minutes, but it is broken into two takes.”

That... was something I didn't know.  She paused for that to sink in, then continued. “You'll do the segment introduction, a tech will be holding cue cards to prompt you with the required information like calling out the station callsign, the segment name.  I expect you can ad-lib the rest of an intro and be yourself.”

She held up a hand as I started to smirk. “Well mostly be yourself. The station has already laid out the dos and don'ts with you as far as what the Federal Communications Commission will allow or disallow.  Any breaches will have you paying any fines levied by the FCC from your own pocket.”

I nodded with a cheesy grin to Karmin as I replied to Porter, “No fuckin' cussing, flashing, or lewd gestures on air, got it.”

The younger girl looked down and failingly fought off a smile as she bit the tip of her tongue.  This made me feel like I had accomplished a great feat to be proud of.  I truly liked that I had made her smile.  I hesitated when I saw the blue ankle socks sticking out of her sneakers.  Something about her whole outfit was feeling so familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it.

Porter rolled her eyes at my snark and said in a very businesslike manner, “Duh.”  Then she added, “And after the commercial break, the same thing.  Prompts on cards, yadda yadda, and at the end of the segment as well.  I'll be signaling one-minute warning and fifteen-second warning, and counting down the last five for you to wind things up.”

Ok, I really hadn't given much thought to the structure of the segment as I just spoke my mind until I said my piece on my podcasts, they weren't any given length.  Format and structure took a back seat to content.

I felt a little sheepish at the realization that, ok, fine, maybe I did need a producer for this segment.  It was in the professional world after all, not the off the cuff, from the gut productions I normally did.

I blew away a long lock of hair drooping down into my eyes from the end of the hawk, and gave her a toothy smile.  She responded with a knowing, smug look.  Ok, I liked her, she wasn't intimidated by Na Na.

She seemed done with me as she turned to the other woman and said, “Cass could you...”

She was cut off by the girl finishing for her, “Get her in for makeup and a light test.  Ryoukai!”

I hesitated as the odd platypus of a girl made an ushering motion to me.  Porter looked just as amused as I was.  I was wracking my brains trying to figure out why Karmin, and the way she was dressed, seemed so damn familiar to me as I followed her through the doors to the corridor leading between the other shops and the Pike.

I muttered to the women as the other assistants, and my people followed behind us, “I do my own makeup.”

Porter didn't seem to be listening, and Karmin was too determined upon leading me to the bakery which I already knew so well.  We stopped outside the doors, and I could already see how much this whole production was adversely affecting the regular customers as they were all standing off to the side watching the camera crew set up, taking up a whole third of the bakery.

Porter said, “Nadine?”  And a redheaded woman with a portable makeup kit stepped up to me dutifully.  She started just reaching up with a pad, and I glared down at her and cocked an eyebrow in challenge.  If she didn't like my harsh look, too bad.  It was my brand, and Na Na would break her if she tried to change it.

Nadine swallowed hard then looked between me and Porter who crossed her arms.  Nadine hesitated then started reaching toward my face again.  Was she really more scared of Porter?  Well, I guess she would be since the studio cut her paycheck, not me.

I said cooly, “Think really hard about this before you do anything you may regret.”

She stopped again and looked back at Porter, I pulled her attention back to me with, “Don't look at her, look at me.  Are you sure you want to be doing this?”  Gawd, Na Na could be a bitch at times, but I wasn't going to change what I had worked so very hard to perfect over the years.  I still had to look into the eyes of my fans after this.

The redhead turned back to Porter.  “She's intense. Umm... the look works well for her.”

I grinned innocently back at the chastising glare my new producer was giving me.

Then Nadine asked me, “Is it alright if I get rid of some of the shine?  The lights are pretty unforgiving.”

I nodded, and she switched to a pad that had a fine powder that she dabbed on my face.

Then I snorted when I glanced over to see one of the sisters who ran the Pike with her hands and face pressed up against the glass of the door, her head almost upside down as she stuck her tongue out at me.  Then she waved and almost skipped off.

I got control of my smile and gave an apologetic look to Nadine, who was diligently trying to keep up with all my movement.  She finished and considered her handiwork, then nodded.  “That'll do it.  Good luck.”  She moved behind the producer.

Good luck?  Oh, just great, that made all my insecurity and anxiety come rushing up to the forefront.  This wasn't just one of my podcasts, this was a professional news broadcast.  I snapped out of it as a sound man started slipping a small microphone to my lapel and then he looked nervously at my butt as he held the battery pack in indecision.

That's what I needed to pull up that armor of confidence again.  I swiveled toward him and cocked my hip, moving my ass toward him invitingly.

As the poor boy swallowed, I caught Karmin covering a smile with her hand.  I winked at her.  I was sort of happy I was amusing her.  The kid was fumbling around trying to attach the clip to my waistband.  I gave him a bored look, “Are you done groping my ass yet?”  He straightened up and finished his job, almost tripping over himself to get away from us as he prompted, “Soundcheck?”

I said primly as he pulled some headphones over his ears and looked at a sound monitor hanging at his hip, “Check, check, fuckin' A.”

He hesitated again, trying not to look at me as he nodded and slipped through the door.

Porter snorted. “That was just evil, I don't know if you scared the poor boy to death or made him fall in love with you.”

I shrugged. “In my experience, they're one and the same.”

I gave her a toothy grin, but she shook her head at me, “Deon't even, woman.  It doesn't work on me.”

I had to snicker.

Then my short personal assistant whispered to me, “Two minutes.”

I nodded down at her, and she hugged her paperwork again and led me into the bakery.  She pointed at a tape mark on the floor, and I stood on it.  As the crew started taking light levels, Karmin stepped back behind the camera man, not meeting my eyes.

I started chuckling as I was tackled by the twins.  Zoey's kids were adorable in that tween age where everything was awkward.  I'm not so sure I've outgrown that awkwardness myself.  I smiled at them, then hugged them to me for a second and released them. “Good to see you too Teddy and Max.”

Max, I can tell you right now, was going to be a heartbreaker like her mother when she grew up.  That hair and the same cute face and freckles were going to be many a girl or boy's downfall.  And Teddy was already almost as tall as me, he was going to be a well built handsome guy like his dad.  It's all written in their good genes.

I had to smile at the blushes on their faces, I remember the days of teenage crushes.  Eve snapped her towel at them, making Teddy squeak and dodge as she said, “Come on Teddy, Maximum Ride, Na Na has a job to do, and so do you.  The customers won't feed themselves.”

Max chirped out as she waved to me and followed her aunt, “You already used that one today, auntie Eve.”

Eve was nodding and corrected herself, “Maxaroony then,” as Porter brought me back to the task at hand by prompting, “Ten seconds.”

I looked at the camera and Karmin gave me an energetic thumbs up and said, “Do your best!”

I blinked at her in shock when I realized why her outfit looked so familiar.  No way.  She was dressed up like Haruhi Suzumiya!  One of the anime characters I watched back in junior high and high school.  I used to...

I was snapped out of my shock when I realized Porter was counting down.  “Five, four...”  Then she held up three, two, one finger.

And I was sputtering as I was glancing past the camera for the cue cards the sound man was holding. “Umm... good morning Seattle, welcome to the premier of the Seattle Evermore segment of Emerald City News, KVRL.  I'm Na Na Evermore, and I'll cut through all the BS and hype for you and give you the real Seattle like only a city native can.”

I had regained my composure by then and put on my signature smirk.  I raised an eyebrow to the camera and looked away from the cards to cock my head and grin as I said, “Today I want to show you all one of Seattle's hidden culinary gems.  The Pike Bakery, nestled in the Post Street Alley, here at Pike Place Market.  This place is the cat's balls.”  The customers snickered at that.  Porter was counting down from five on her fingers, and I scrunched up my nose and said, “We'll be right back with a quick look at what makes the Pike worthy of my notice.”

Then the camera man stood making a cutting motion across his throat, “And we're out.”

Porter said, “Two minutes everyone.”

I looked over at Karmin who was grinning cutely.  My attention was pulled from her when Porter asked as the sisters headed my way, “The cat's balls?  Really?”

I shrugged an apology and kept my persona going, “What?  It isn't like I could say the Pike is the shit, on air could I?”

I hugged the sisters to me once they got within arms reach.  I noticed Maddie out the window by her cart giving two super energetically sarcastic two thumbs up.  I grinned at her and flipped her off after I released the sexy redheads.

I turned an imperious nose away from her to say hi to the ladies.  “How are my two favorite redheads today?”

I heard Max harrumph from the counter where she was helping a customer.  I corrected, “Older redheads.”

This got a harrumph from Eve.  I cocked an eyebrow between them and prompted, “Don't make me take you two out back to kick your asses.  You know I love ya all.”

Zoey said in an announcer's voice, “Na Na is in the house!”

I rolled my eyes at her.

Then she mused out loud, “Now, I suppose after this I'll have to rename our cream puffs to cat's balls?”

This got a snicker from Teddy, and I shot him a wink as she pointed at him and warned, “Don't encourage her.”  She turned her finger toward me and said, “You're a corrupting influence, lady.”

I nodded with pride. “I aim to please.”

Porter took control of our jovial chaos as the sound guy clipped mics on the sisters aprons. “Ladies, we're on in sixty seconds.  Miss Dupree will introduce you and then discuss the bakery with you.  Pretend the camera isn’t here and just have a normal conversation.”  She corrected, tongue in cheek, “Well as normal a conversation as you can with Na Na that is.”

“Hey, I resembled that remark.”

I was glad that Porter was not the stick up the ass I thought she'd be, and that put me at ease.  She started to engage the sisters as I glanced back at the woman dressed as a living breathing anime character.  She looked away when I tried to make eye contact.

There was something else so familiar about Karmin.  I thought it was the outfit, but my punk sense was tingling.  It was one of my superpowers.  Had she been at one of the raves I frequented?  I just couldn't picture her in the punk scene, they'd eat her alive.

“Five, four...”  Oh shit.  Not again.  I glanced around.  Porter was off camera again, and the sisters were standing on either side of me, an odd smile on Eve's face.

Just as the camera's red, on-air light went on, I caught Zoey saying under her breath, “No meddling, Eve.”

Glurk!

I recovered with a smile saying, “Welcome back to Seattle Evermore.  I'm Na Na Evermore for KVRL.  I have with me the two, maladjusted troublemaking sisters who run the Pike Bakery.  Zoey Torville and Eve Rand”  I wiggled my eyebrows at the camera and nudged my eyes one way then the other at the sister sandwich I was in with a toothy grin.  “This is a recipe I can get used to.”

Then I started a discussion with the ladies as they showed us around the bakery.  Some of the abbreviated history Zoey gave I knew, but some of it I didn't know.  Like that war heroine, McKenzie Meyers was their silent partner.  The bakery was originally Meyers' grandmother's.

I got into the swing of the interview and was able to let my Na Na persona take us away, while reining in her proclivity to use colorful profanity-laden expletives as a comma, or a period, in every other sentence.

I was having a great time until Porter's arms waving frantically caught my attention.  She tapped an imaginary watch then nudged her chin toward the cue cards.  Cutting our conversation short as I pulled one sister to me on each side, I nodded and said, “Right.”  Then I gave a cheesy grin to the camera as I hugged them to me.

I went through the sign-off prompts then let go of the girls who were being just as cheesy as me with their expressive faces, and I pointed at the Ethereal on the back of my hand and nodded suggestively.  Then I said, “Thanks for watching, and remember, it ain't Seattle unless it's Seattle Evermore.”

I turned and snagged the redheads again and started walking away from the camera as I said, “Now if you'll all excuse me, I can think of better ways to spend some time with these lovely ladies.”

I heard the cameraman say, “And we're out.”  And I deflated, letting the overly amused sisters take my weight.

I said weakly, “Sorry girls.”

Eve shrugged and pulled my arm tighter around her shoulder and said, “No worries, some of us aren't old married ladies like Zoo there and appreciate the attention.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, snapped her towel at her sis and countered, “Hey Raggedy Ann, in my prime, I could have landed me a Na Na.”

I looked around and whispered as Porter and Karmin approached while the techs started tearing down the equipment, and the customers started moving in on us.  “How bad did I fuck things up?”

This had to have been the worst I have ever been in front of a camera.  I came across awkward, hadn't I?  I just wanted to hide in a hole.  I didn't have a hole handy, so I pulled the girls in front of me like a shield as a bubbly Maxine joined us.

Zoey said, “Actually, I thought you were brilliant.  Engaging and right on the edge of acceptability on air.”

While Max pried her mother out of my grasp to insert herself under my arm, Porter stopped in front of me.  Karmin was rocking on her heels with a smile on her face as she hugged her mountain of papers to her chest, refusing to make eye contact.

My newfound producer nodded slowly as she regarded me and said with a smirk of her own, “You'll do.”

I can't tell you just how hard it was to not exhale loudly in relief.  I was feeling so insecure.  Zoey read me like a book and started spinning her towel around and calling out to everyone, “Nothing to see here folks, croissants are up there, two for one special until noon!”  They all did as instructed.  I bet she'd excel in herding cats too.

She reached over and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and said quietly, “Nala is in the house,” before following the herd of customers to the pastry cases up front.  I glanced out the window and Madelyn inclined her head then turned back to her cart.  Good, her opinion really mattered to me.

The cameraman stepped over and said, “You're a natural.  They're going to have a conniption fit back at the station over how closely you toed the line.”

I gave him a sheepish look, not sure if I should apologize for my character being herself or not.  Porter made the introduction, “Nala, Kyle, our cameraman for this segment.”

I nodded and said to him, inclining my head, “Nice to meet you Kyle, and thanks.”

He returned the gesture then went back to packing up his gear.

I took a deep breath and stood taller, pulling my mask around me.  “That... was something new.”

Porter nodded then looked at Karmin. “Cass, could you...”

The girl brightened and finished as she nodded. “Get her the schedule for next week's segment at Spinners?”

I said, “I'd appreciate...”

She kept nodding. “If I emailed it as well as supplying you the hardcopy.  Already done.”  She handed me a paper.

“Thanks.”

Then she slid to my side, and Porter said, “I'd like to meet and discuss other venues with you for future segments.  We need to get a feel for each other.”

I smiled internally.  So today was more of an audition than anything, for the studio to see if this was going to work.  We could have discussed more than just two venues ahead of time, I wondered why she stopped me at the Pike and Spinners.  Now it seems she is decided and I passed whatever test this all was.  The contract called for a total of nine pieces for the segment if the premier went satisfactorily.

I nodded, and she turned to the young woman with the yellow ribbon in her hair. “Cassandra is at your disposal day or night for anything in reference to Seattle Evermore.  Just...”

Karmin, grinned, “Call anytime, 24-7.  I emailed my contact information.  Is there anything I can do for you now?”

I had to smile at her enthusiasm as I shook my head.  She beamed at me cutely and for the first time, met my eyes.  Is it weird that I found this unorthodox woman's hazel eyes... entrancing?  Is that the right word?  The moment she met my gaze before looking away, I saw someone stronger and deeper than I could ever hope to be.  How could all that I saw be contained in such a small package?

Why was someone obviously so capable, only a personal assistant for a news studio?

I said to them, “Thanks, this was... surreal.  I'll hop online to review the segment, and we can discuss any changes or modifications to the format later?”

Porter looked at the techs as they filed out of the bakery and nodded as my crew stopped their own recording.  I'd get some great behind the scenes cuts from them.  “Sounds like a winner to me.  We can discuss it when we meet next.  Cass can set something up.”

The girl was nodding agreement, and the producer turned to Eve and Max, who was looking at the Ethereal Armor on my hand.  I absently detached it as Porter shook Eve's hand.  “It was nice meeting you, and I'll have to drop on in here when I'm not on the job.  Goodbye ladies.”

I inclined my head, taking on my persona's air.  Then they headed for the door as I pressed the Ethereal Armor into Max's hand and said to the imp, “Keep it.”

Karmin turned and waved cutely at the door saying, “Jaa ne.”

I caught myself waving back. “Jaa ne.”  Wait, she spoke Japanese?  I had taken Japanese in high school as my foreign language requirement, everyone was taking Spanish or French, and since we had a Japanese instructor I opted for the path less traveled, and besides I lived and breathed Anime back then when my mother wasn't lurking.

Don't look at me like that, I was such a geek when I was younger.  Still am a bit under all this Na Na nonsense that I wear.

Max was staring at the gift in her hand like it was made of the stars themselves.  She glanced at me and asked, “Really?  Then she looked over at Eve for permission with pleading eyes.

Eve shrugged. “I say go for it, Max Headroom, I'm the corrupting aunt.  Tell that to yer mom when she scolds you.”

I told them, “Really, it's nothing.  Vendors are always giving me stuff if I show them off.  Job is done, it's hers now.”

Eve said, “Then let me get you a coffee.  Fair trade and all.”

Max ran off squeeing.  No really, she was actually saying, “Squee!” As she ran off to show her brother.  God, I love their family.  They would make any straitlaced family cringe.

That offer, I wouldn't turn down.  So I sat at one of the little patio style cafe tables that a man vacated with just a look from me, and I relaxed and decompressed, surrounded by people I enjoyed.  For me, Nala, this had been a terrifying experience, I was just thankful that Na Na could lend me her strength.

And for now... there's coffee.

Chapter 2 – Distractions

After I decompressed a bit and made my crew all buy something from the Pike, I headed out to bug Madelyn for a bit, then headed to The Crib.  My little production office I had backstage in the abandoned Empire Theater building, which I had purchased two years back with my advertising earnings from my podcasts.

What, did you expect a strip mall or something?  Everything was about the image I was trying to project.  This entire empire was just a house of cards, all smoke and mirrors, predicated on an imaginary character.  The person I wished I could be, strong, confident, glamorous.  It was the culmination of everything I learned in my marketing studies, and I did it well.

Brandon drove, and Spike followed with the girls.  Some of my posse had to go to their day jobs, so we were a light brigade at the time.  I spent the ride absently looking out the window.  I couldn't get the image of Karmin exclaiming, “Do your best.” Out of my mind.  She was like a real-life anime character, and I know most would find that odd, but I found it endlessly endearing.

She knew that people looked at her funny for the way she dressed, but she didn't care about what others thought, she was just being herself.  I envied that.  And I was kicking myself for not being able to place her.  There was that nagging voice telling me I should know her from somewhere.

Brandon was considering me as we were pulling up to my dilapidated playhouse.  Then he asked as he parked in the spot in the empty lot which had a sign that read, Boss Lady, “You've been lost in thought the whole trip.  Anything you want to talk about?  Or are you nervous about how the public is going to react to Seattle Evermore?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Fuck that.  You were there, I was brilliant. What kind of shit is this nervous talk?  I'm Na Na Evermore.”

He grinned at that and nodded once like it was settled and a done deal as he said, “That you are.”

I threw him a bone by asking, “What did you think of that little PA they're giving me?  She look familiar to you?”

He shrugged. “Cute, but not what... wait a minute, why are you asking?”

He started to grin lopsidedly, and I exhaled and Gibbs slapped the back of his head. “Mind out of the gutter.  Seriously, is that all men think about?  No, I just thought she looked familiar is all.”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin like he was contemplating something, then said, “Yes, I believe it is all we think about.”

I shoved his shoulder with a grin on my face, then got out considering the man.  He was keeping me on my toes and my mind off of whatever I had been dwelling on.  He knew what he was doing, and I appreciated the effort from him.  He was one of the few in my posse I could see being real friends with someday.

We headed to the service door in the back, close to where we parked, the others trailed behind.  I looked up at the almost gothic looking structure with a bit of pride.  The Empire was mine.  I had aspirations of restoring her to her former glory, then using her for organized raves and small concerts for people in the rock and punk scene here in the Emerald City.  She'd be the crown jewel in my media and entertainment empire.

I made the decision as we reached the door, and I told the others so that I would be held to my word, “I think this is the year.  Time to restore this old girl.”  I patted the doorframe, and the others looked suitably happy at my decision.  It had been a long time coming as I have discussed it many times in passing with my crew.

Kat, or Katherine, being a realtor for the rich and famous, keeps pointing out how the Empire was a sound investment, real estate in Seattle was, and always will be, a premium, and it can only increase in value.  Though she recommends bulldozing it and putting up, ironically enough, a strip mall to capitalize on the market.

No, the Empire is going to rise out of the ashes, and I'm going to make her great again.  I'm going to breathe life back into her and she will shine like a diamond again.

The others gave a little cheer, and I felt that familiar fire being stoked inside.  I had a project to do again.  I had been feeling like I had just been treading water, needing some change in my life.  That's why I agreed to work with the news studio.  But this.  The restoration... that was my new project.

I unlocked the door and disabled the alarm, and I found myself smiling as I marched past the backstage rigging to the door of my office, marked with the fading red letters which read, “Stage Manager.”

I unlocked it, and we headed in.  Where the outside of my office looked to be a relic of the past as the rest of the playhouse, the inside was a modern technological wonder.  All my production gear was here, with the latest digital video and audio editing hardware and software.  I even had a little sound isolation booth in the corner.  My posse compares walking into my office from the stage to walking into Doctor Who's Tardis from nineteenth century London.

I flopped into my ridiculously comfortable overstuffed office chair behind my desk as the others took their preferred spots all around the room.  Spike slid into the chair at the editing station and just absently held his hand out, Brandon handed his phone over.  Then Spike mumbled something about pulling some good promo from the footage as he went to work.  It was so quiet I couldn't quite make it out.

I couldn't imagine how insanely expensive his services would be if I actually paid him, or the others.  Oddly, I didn't feel bad about it.  I never once asked or expected anything from any of them.  They all just sort of latched onto me.  They get recognition and a boost to their own businesses just being associated with me.  It is symbiotic, and we all get something we need or want out of the relationship.  I just keep getting all the gear Spike suggests in his emails, and he's happy... like a kid in a candy store.

I glanced over to the girls, in their corner on the couch I had wedged in there for them.  They already had their faces buried in their cells.  Kat was likely splitting time between social media and her clients.  Before she had to run off to do a showing I prompted, “So Kat, is there a contractor you would recommend for the renovation?”

She perked up.  Her smile bloomed as she slid her cell into her bag to give me her full attention, then hopped up to make a beeline toward me.  “You were serious about starting now?  I was beginning to think you'd never commit.”

She hopped up and sat on the corner of my desk, crossing her feet at the ankles and I noted the sinfully expensive heels she chose for the day.  Too bad I don't normally wear heels like today, or I'd be wanting to borrow those.  Even though I liked them, Na Na wouldn't be caught dead in them, and she always wins out.

She leaned in a bit to look at the contractor web searches I was pulling up on my computer screen, being sure to show off a little cleavage to me.  She's always being a tease to me, ever since she found out I was gay, even though she was as straight as they come.  I think it is just built into her DNA to try to get people to look at her and want her.  Though she's nice to look at, she's definitely neither my nor Na Na's type.

She went into shop mode and said, “While the contractors I normally deal with are for upscale mansions and properties, I have had dealings with a few commercial contractors.”  She placed a hand over mine on my mouse, stopping me from searching.  “Before you do anything, let me make some calls.”

I nodded, and she released my hand and hopped back up, pacing like a businesswoman as she dialed her phone, “Chuck?  Katherine, I need to pick your brain...”

I grinned at her then looked back at the screen.  I really didn't know where to begin.

Well, until she gets back to me, I'll just take a look at the segment I did today, it should be on the station's website by now.  Speaking of, I'll have to contact Reese Qualls to get her to set up a renovation area on my website so I can keep the fans informed and create excitement for the project.

There were other reasons I liked using Reese on my stuff, besides the fact she was second to none in the tech sector.

I cringed at the first two seconds of the segment where I looked like a shocked buffoon over Karmin, but then that veneer slid over my expression, and it looked like I was channeling all the sarcastic confidence in the world.  Ah, there she is, Na Na.  I wish I really had her kind of confidence.  I just kicked back to watch, putting my feet up on the desk.

I needed these distractions since I didn't have anything else slated for the day, I didn't have a podcast until tomorrow night.  Maybe I'll just blog about the experience today, or contact some potential advertisers for the site.  It was slow days like this that I could catch up on all the minutia in managing my persona.  So why did my mind keep slipping back to my newly assigned PA?

I switched over to my email.  Ah, she's as efficient as I believed.  I already had multiple emails from her as promised.  And also one from Porter.  God, it was going to take some getting used to having to answer to someone other than myself.

Suck it up Nala, that's how ninety-nine percent of the world operates, and you know it.

Chapter 3 – Delivery

Come on Karmin, think!  I was going over my day in my head.  I had misplaced some paperwork, that never happens to me.  Never ever snever.  But I had been so distracted this morning... Machinasai! The Pike!  I must have left the papers there.

I had been so overwhelmed with memories when I found out that I was being assigned as Personal Assistant to none other than Nala Dupree.  Of all the people in the world, why her?  I thought she had been sexy back in school, but now she's achieved a whole new level by remaking herself into Na Na Evermore.

I was off my game as I watched her own the camera this morning.  I did a quick lookup on my cell as I forwarded information to the station manager, the advertising department, and Miss Graves with my other hand on my iPad.  Oh, and I needed to contact the office supply manager to get Nala's business cards, station ID lanyard, and stationary for the segment ordered.

I started filling in the requisition forms as my cell rang.  On the third ring, a woman answered, “Pike Bakery.”

I grinned, it was the perky one, I instantly recalled her name and said, “Hello Miss Rand.  This is  Karmin Hughes with KVRL.  Na Na Evermore's personal assistant.”

She chirped out, “Oh, the cute yellow hair ribbon?”

That was just silly, I wasn't a hair ribbon.  I touched my hair ribbon absently as I forwarded some correspondence to various departments at the studio while I spoke. “Yes, ma'am.  I was wondering...”

She blurted, “Does a duck use a tuning fork?  Yes, of course we have apple dumplings.”

Huh?  Was she making fun of my propensity to finish other people's thoughts?  I started, “Apple...”

She giggled.  Seriously I thought I was the only full grown woman in this world who giggled.  I try to chuckle, I swear to you, but it always ends in a giggle.  I was amused by so very many things.

She clarified, “No, not you, sweetie.  This brain trust of an officer here.  She knows it is Monday, that means dumplings.”

She covered the receiver, and I heard her say, “Can't you see I'm on the phone Officer O'Brien?  Your stomach can wait.”

Then she was speaking to me again, “Using my amazing powers of clairvoyance, I would say that you are in search of some paperwork with the KVRL logo emblazoned upon them and JiJi paperclips holding it all together.”

I sighed in relief.  “Oh thank the lord, you have them.  I've been wracking my brains trying to figure out where I left them.  How late are you open tonight?”

Then I answered before she could, realizing there was only one correct response for the Pike Place Market shops, “Closing Bell.”

She gleeped and then before she could say it, I said, “Thank you, I'll be right over.”

She snorted. “Good, I'm glad we got that sorted.”

I waved at the cell with one hand. “Bye.”  As I composed an email to Miss Graves about ideas I had about Nala's segment with my other hand.

I was about to hang up when Miss Rand asked, “Hey, how did you know it was me and not Raggedy Ann?”

I shrugged. “You don't sound like Mrs. Torville.  The cadence and timbre of your voice are distinctive no matter the other similarities and familial quirks.”

She said in an almost silly tone, “Yeahhhhh... that's what I thought.”

I had to grin as she said, “I gotta fend off the fuzz here.  See ya soon.”  Then she hung up, leaving me smiling.

I rushed out of my tiny cubicle on the second floor of the station.  I didn't have much else to do except aiding the other PAs who weren't as organized as me.  Nala was going to be a huge draw, so they freed me up to work with her exclusively.  Which was silly since she only had the one segment once a week.  They just saw the publicity and advertising revenues that having her on the show would mean.

As exciting as it was going to be to work with her, I was going to have virtually nothing to do for the rest of the week.  She hadn't even called after the shoot to relay her list of expectations like all of the other clients I have been assigned to.  It's like she didn't understand what a PA was for.

Sure, my main job was to look out for the studio's best interests, and that generally meant I had to keep the high maintenance clients happy.  Nala was never high maintenance anything, so my life was about to get extremely boring, extremely quickly unless I could convince the higher ups to give me another client or three or four to assist.

I drove quickly to the Market.  The parking structure was full, and the street parking was non-existent near the closing bell.  So I reentered the parking garage and went into super ninja stalking mode.  I followed a family of tourists from the elevators all the way to their car and waited, waving other vehicles past me.  Then I pounced on their parking spot less than four nanoseconds after they vacated, faster than Naruto could summon his Rasen Shuriken attack.

Then I was off.  I only had a few minutes before the closing bell.  I wished I had Haruhi Suzumiya's ability to reshape reality sometimes, then I wouldn't be late.  I grinned at myself.  Of course, I'd think of her, I was wearing an outfit inspired by her today.

It turned out I didn't need her fictional abilities as I scurried into the Pike bakery with a few minutes to spare.  I grinned up at the little bell that tinkled over the door when I opened it.  This place really had such a quaint feel for someplace that seemed so insanely popular.

The kids behind the counter saw me and the girl popped her head in the back for a second and the elder sister came out of the kitchen, her face smeared with flour as she wiped her hands on her apron.  She looked to be maybe a five or so years older than me, and her sister trailing behind her was closer to my age.

They smiled at me as I approached, noting they still had a few customers at the tables even this close to closing.  The elder sister reached under the counter and pulled out my missing documents.  I sighed in relief.  It would have been my first misstep at the studio since I started last year when I moved back to the states from Japan.  It would have been easy to reprint them and get the appropriate signatures, but then I'd look semi-incompetent.

I've worked hard for my reputation at the studio and didn't wish to have a blemish on my record.  I accepted them and gushed, “Arigatou... I mean, thank you.  You're a lifesaver Mrs. Torville.”

She winced. “That makes me sound old.  It's just Zoey, or if you insist, Mrs. Z.”

She seemed sad about the Mrs. Z name she supplied for some reason.  It meant something to her.

I inclined my head and beamed an energetic smile at her, “You got it, Mrs. Z.”

This put that familiar smile back on her face.  I added in all earnestness, “But seriously, thank you so much.  If there's anything I can do for you just let me know.”

Miss Rand spoke up at that. “Well actually...”

Mrs. Z and the kids all blurted in unison, “Don't meddle!”

She stuck her tongue out at all of them and crossed her arms across her chest obstinately.

Then Zoey held up a finger like she had an idea.  “Oh, actually, there may be something you can assist with.  You're Na Na Evermore's personal assistant?”

I nodded. She called her Na Na.  Couldn't anyone see that Na Na was just a character Nala created?  She was like an actor projecting a well-crafted persona.  No, I think from her look, that Zoey was keeping up pretenses for Nala's sake.  I nodded, and she said, “Great, could you do me a huge favor and deliver this to her?”

She pulled out a little envelope that had 'Thank You' printed on the front.  “Maxine here wrote a thank you to her for a gift she gave her today.  Could you please make sure Miss Evermore gets it?”

I nodded and smiled as I said.  “My pleasure.”

Then Miss Rand cleared her throat and thrust a plan paper bag at me while she eyeballed her sister like something was afoot.  I stared at the bag and looked inside and giggled at the apple dumpling in it, whilst thinking about ducks and tuning forks.

Then the younger sister made an ushering motion. “Now shoo, off with you, be fleet of foot, we're closing now.”  She looked around and raised her voice, “Doors are closing in two minutes.”  The other customers started gathering their things at that.

I gave a little wave to the amusing family as I slid out the door, the little bell tinkling above it.  I heard Miss Rand chastising her sister about meddling as the door closed.

I hesitated and looked down at the thank you card and then smiled.  This gave me a reason to see Nala again before next week, since I was sure she wouldn't contact me about the show until then.  A thank you from a young girl was pretty important stuff that couldn't wait, right?

I almost skipped to my car as I looked up Nala's address from the station records on my cell.  I had one last delivery to make before calling it a night.

This had nothing to do with an old crush which I believed long ago extinguished, bubbling back to the surface.  That would be unprofessional and too much of a distraction in my detail oriented job.  It would cause too many slip-ups... like... leaving important papers behind in a bakery.  I cursed, “Kuso!”

I pushed those thoughts from my mind as I returned to my car and drove through the stop and go rush hour traffic.  It would have been rude of me to just show up unannounced, especially at her home, so I used the hands-free to call ahead.

My call went straight through to voicemail on the first ring.  Her cell must have been off.  Or more likely, she just screened all of her calls.  She must have tons of fans determined enough to find her number even though it isn't listed.  It really must be a pain to famous sometimes.

I left a quick message that I was on my way with a delivery for her.  I stopped at a convenience store to grab a bottle of grape juice along the way.  Again, it would be rude to arrive at someone's house empty handed.  Or was that just in Japan?  After spending the last six years there... basically my entire adult life, I often wonder what customs are universal and which are just Japanese.

I shrugged.  I think I preferred the Japanese customs and manners in quite a few cases.

I glanced at the grape juice as I slipped back into the driver's seat.  Back in school, she never ate lunch for some reason.  She just always took a back corner, stuck her head into her study books, and drank a bottle of grape juice.  I had always wanted to ask about that.

I had to double check the address when I arrived at a small reclaimed warehouse-type structure which had an eclectic bunch of storefronts on the first level.  I looked up to the upper level.  The building had been meticulously restored, gaining some of the nineteen forties charm of its original construction.  There must have been condos on the second level.

Not really where I would have expected her to be living.  But then again, I wasn't expecting a lavish mansion either, that wasn't her style.  She was all about being real, speaking plainly.  About the only thing about her not genuine was the tough attitude she projected.  I could see that was her brand, and a well-crafted brand at that.  She definitely put her marketing expertise to work to devastating effect.

Just to be safe, I checked the address one last time.  This was the place, unless she gave us a bogus address on the contracts, which I seriously doubted.  I noted a man on the street corner, leaning against a street lamp and holding a camera.  A woman was sitting in a car across the street with the zoom lens of a camera resting on the open window frame of her car door.

Paparazzi.  Yup, this was the right place.

I made a sour face.  While there are some paparazzi in Japan, it isn't this 24/7 invasion of privacy that occurs with anyone of any celebrity here in the States.  There they will stake out places that notable people tend to congregate, rather than follow them home.  What they do here just smacks of stalking to me, and I can't understand why it isn't illegal.  I mean, if an average citizen did it, they'd be arrested for stalking, but because these people make money off the pictures, it is somehow different and ok?

In Japan, otakus... fans are rabid about their idols, but even they don't invade their privacy like this.  I should know.  To my embarrassment, I'm somewhat of an otaku of the anime and music scene.

Fine, whatever, I may be more than somewhat of an anime otaku.

I took a deep breath, checked to make sure I had the card, grabbed the grape juice, and hopped out.  It wasn't until I crossed the street and started walking along the building, looking for an entrance to the upstairs, that the others took notice of me when I brought a hand up to press my face close to the windows of a little record shop to see inside as the sun was setting.  The man raised his camera and took a shot or two of me before he leaned back against the lamppost.

I couldn't see any obvious signs of how to get upstairs, but the shop itself interested me.  I could see Nala living above a hip little place like this.  I tried not to snort.  What a contrast. Na Na's punk looks and my anime.

I came to a set of doors between the shops and looked in.  Score!  It was a little corridor, and I could see a freight elevator at the end, and a door marked 'Fire Stairs.' I tugged tentatively at one door, and it didn't budge, I tried the other, and it opened.  Yay!  Go me!

I slipped in and heard some electric violin music coming from a door which was opened a bit, half way down the hall.  It was some sort of odd fusion between a classical and a hard rock movement that was very intriguing to me.

I got to the end of the hall and saw there was no call button for the elevator, only a keypad and a keyway.  I tried the fire stairs, but they were locked from the inside.  Ok, this was unfortunate.  I glanced around then grinned, there was an intercom beside the elevator.  I buzzed it and waited.  Nothing.  “Kuso!”

Of course, she wouldn't be home, she'd be out partying or embroiled deeply somewhere in the underground music scene.  She had things to do at night unlike me.

I sighed and then turned around to head out.  I'd just have to wait for her to return my call.  I hesitated when I passed the door where the music was coming from.  I noted it was a dance studio called Henderson's.  The sign on the door said that it was a private studio, to call for an appointment.

The music was increasing in intensity and urgency, building to a crescendo.  I had never heard anything like it.  My curiosity got the better of me.  I pictured myself as a neko with cat ears and a tail as I slipped through the door to go inquire about the music.  But hadn't curiosity killed the cat?

The volume got louder and louder as I passed an office to a little swinging door.  I opened it a bit and peeked inside to see a large open space with hardwood floors.  From the bit I could see, the walls were covered in mirrors and there was a rail at waist height around the room.

I saw a shadow in the low lighting of someone moving around to the music.  I thought about leaving, I didn't want to interrupt someone's private dance lesson, but the music had my blood pumping with its urgency, and I really wanted to know the artist so I could find more.

I steeled myself and stepped in.  That's when my jaw dropped.  In a million years, I wouldn't have been prepared for the sight I witnessed.

There in the middle of the space, moving around the boom box which the music was spilling from, Nala moved with such elegance and power as she performed some sort of cross between interpretative dance and an artistic martial arts kata.

The moves were grace personified, one moving into the next, a combination of finesse and dangerous execution of moves with uncanny precision.

There was a sheen of sweat on her skin, making her shine in the light, as she moved through her forms.  The black half tank top she wore clung to her curves and showed off a lot of skin and those intriguing tattoos of hers that seemed to wrap around her neck and vanish into her cleavage, only to reappear twisting and wrapping around her arms like sleeves of smoke.

She wore cutoff shorts, showing off her long, shapely, muscled legs that seemed to go on forever to her bare feet, which were wrapped with some sort of gauze.

Her ebony hair... my god... it hung down behind her mohawk down past her waist.  It streamed behind her like a wraith clinging to the last vestiges of the emotions that brought it about.  How had I not seen that at the Pike?  Does she hide it away?  Tucked into her shirt?

A memory flashed of the long golden hair she wore even longer back in school.  It was the reason I had first noticed her back then.

And here, her motions caused it to flow like an extension of her being, as each strike continued fluidly into a pirouette to be concluded in a wide sweeping kick, her hair trailed behind like an ethereal dragon.  It was... she was, beautiful.

Her well-toned muscles and abdomen were on display with more of those intriguing tattoos which I couldn't quite make out, making my legs go a little weak as my heart raced.  There they were, the familiar butterflies, warming and fluttering around in my belly.

But the most striking thing to me, the thing that held me entranced, was the look on her face as she went through the movements of this kata like no other.  It was the juxtaposition of the two extremes I saw.  She was so laser focussed, like this was the most important thing she could possibly be doing; keeping every movement precise and controlled which contrasted with the serenity that seemed to radiate from being in control of this one aspect of her life.

I had taken everything in in an instant, the scant time it took for the bottle of grape juice I had been holding to slip from my fingers and hit the floor, the plastic thunking and clattering as it bounced around.  That knocked me out of my shock of seeing this raw beauty in front of me.  She stopped and looked over as I scrambled to pick up the bottle.  My cheeks burning intensely.

Kuso!  Great job, Karmin.

Chapter 4 – Personal Assistant

I was lost in the bliss that overcame me when I worked out.  Though it was a pain to maintain my form for my brand, I have to admit that being able to cut loose here for my workouts is one of the few joys I have.  Something that is only for me.  Where I can be Nala and leave all that Na Na stuff behind.  This was mine, the one thing that I had complete control over, and I reveled in it and the music.

Tonight I was playing some of Sarah Kreitz-Qualls fusion violin music.  She could merge two worlds into one, and that is why I was so drawn to it... identified with it.  I understood duality.

I went through the salamander stances I learned from my mixed martial arts trainer as I went through a series of leg sweeps and strikes.  I combined it all with the music, letting it move me, move my body in a dance that defined me.  I thought of the look that would be on mom's face, seeing what I have done with the classical dance training she insisted on when I was in school.

It took me too long to realize she was pushing me for her, not me.  She was reliving her youth through me.  Pushing me to excel in class, to take so many extracurriculars, to take AP classes in high school to get a leg up on college over my peers.

It was all about me getting into Cornell, her alma mater.  Everything I did since the sixth grade was to please her.  It wasn't until I graduated high school that I realized it was her dream, not mine.  I didn't have many real friends because I never had the time.  I was always in the books or rushing between all those activities that were supposed to pad my college applications to make me more desirable to Cornell.

I never had time for a rebellious streak like any normal teen either.  I exhaled at that thought.  Perhaps Na Na is my rebellion.  Me finally being able to cut loose, to get free of the shackles I had never realized I wore.

My relationship with mom hasn't really been the same since I, “Threw away all my hard work,” by declining the coveted Cornell full scholarship, and instead, following my own dream to do something more creative.  I took a scholarship to the New York Academy of Art instead.  Trying to find focus for the creativity inside which I felt was being stifled by my mother's dreams.

There I met a senior, June Harris-West and her group of amazing misfits.  They weren't afraid of anything, weren't afraid to be themselves, the world be damned.  She inspired me to embrace my own dreams.

By the time I graduated, stories were still circulating about June's 8 as they called them.  Living legends.  That's when I got the idea in my marketing class, to create a living legend as a marketing tool.  That's when Na Na Evermore was born and stepped out into the spotlight which I was afraid to stand in.

I felt an old familiar rage building inside as the music's fury grew higher and higher.  Recalling that that was the point in my life when I found the strength inside myself to admit to the world that I liked women.  I experimented in college, dating men and women; they were all more flings actually; and found I definitely had a preference.

Mom hasn't spoken to me since.  Since she insists that I spontaneously became a lesbian just to embarrass her in her social circles.  Well, she still speaks to me, as in contacting me on holidays and my birthday.  But it is more out of social obligation than anything else.  So she can tell her cronies she is reaching out to her rebellious daughter.  We no longer discuss our lives with each other.

I slashed a leg through the air, obliterating the thoughts.  I danced, spun, attacked, finding my center again.  The place where I was happy with myself, happy that I was in control of this one thing in my life which gave me joy... no matter how much I pretended to complain about it.

The music took me as I continued to combine ballet with the various katas and techniques that were so familiar that they were now a part of me.  This is where the rest of the world melts away, and I find my peace.

I had just finished the jaguar defenses when I heard a gasp and a clattering over the music.  It shattered the calm focus which had descended over me like a warm, familiar blanket.

I almost tripped over myself as I dove on the boombox to shut off the music as I looked toward the noise.  I just froze there, my hands on the stereo, finger on the power button, as I saw Karmin Hughes staring at me, her eyes wide and mouth open in apparent shock as she blindly patted around on the floor for a bottle she had apparently dropped.

I didn't know what to do as I stared at her, frozen in indecision.  Dayum, she looked just as adorable as this morning.  I had kept getting distracted all day at the theater thinking about the odd girl.

I didn't ever let anyone in to see me working out.  Not even the owner of the dance studio, Miss Henderson.  It was part of our agreement.

It was only for me.

Oh shit.  I was half naked here, with just a half tank and shorts.  My tats were exposed.  This was me, not Na Na.  I could finally move with that thought, and I grabbed the towel beside the boombox and draped it over my shoulders, letting it hang down over my arms and torso like a shawl.

I looked around as she finally found the bottle she had been blindly patting around for as her eyes were trained on me.  Then I stammered out, “Karmin?  Ummm... what are you doing here?  I... nobody...”

She looked down at her feet as she stood with the bottle.  “Hai... yes, I'm so sorry to interrupt.  Mrs.  Torville, from the Pike bakery, asked me to deliver a message to you.”

Then she was babbling at warp speed. “I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.  I tried calling, and checked upstairs.  The music... I heard the music, so I just came in to see...”

My shock and self-conciseness about being seen outside of my well crafted public persona melted away as I fought off a giggle.  I held a hand palm out to her in a halt gesture, to stop her. “It's ok Karmin.  Mrs. Torville?  Oh, you mean Zoey.”

I grabbed my things and started toward her.  I motioned with my head, signaling for her to follow as I stepped past her.  “Come on upstairs, and you can give me this message while I get cleaned up.”

I felt so nervous around her.  Only Madelyn and Dani have seen behind my mask, I wasn't sure what to do or how to act suddenly.  So I started rambling as I locked the door behind us. “Miss Henderson lets me use the studio during the off hours for a reduction in her rent.”

Lame Nala.

She cocked her head in interest, or was she being polite.  “A reduction in rent?  You manage the building?”

I shook my head as we moved down to the elevator and I punched in my code instead of inserting my key, to call down the car which returned to the second floor by default whenever I left my loft.  I admitted with a shrug, feeling embarrassed for some reason, “I sort of actually own the building.  It is smarter than leasing and is an investment for the future.”

Then I straightened and channeled my cocky other self and said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, “After all, all of this isn't going to last.”  I ran a hand through the air up and down, indicating my body.

Oh lord, oh lord, don't blush Nala!  That's all I need right now.

She cocked her head, her shoulder length hair draping to one side, the rest constrained by the yellow ribbon she still wore.  She gave a smile that felt genuine to me as she said, “That's smart, and forward thinking.”

When the elevator arrived, I pulled the cages open and ushered her in then shut the cages.  The elevator automatically started its way up.  Again, I felt on display.  Come on, I'm tougher than this, some of Na Na has rubbed off on me over the years.  I absently dabbed at the sweat on my arms with the end of the towel with my free hand.

She was diligently looking anywhere but at me, her face beet red.  I was all too aware of how disgusting I must be, all covered in sweat like this.  I must reek too.

I couldn't get the upper gates opened fast enough when we arrived.  I stepped in and to the side motioning her in.  “Home sweet home.”

She stepped in, and I swear she bowed a bit as she awkwardly thrust the bottle from downstairs to me.  “I brought grape juice.”

I blinked twice then took the bottle as I absently mumbled, “I like grape juice...”  Was it a lucky guess, or part of the Cassandra-like anticipation Porter spoke of?

She was nodding then quickly squatted and took her shoes off and placed them neatly beside the elevator.  Then she stood and seemed to drag her eyes from me with great effort and then hesitated when she took in my loft.

She looked everywhere, her eyes darting around as she took in the mostly industrial looking space.  I loved the feel of it, with exposed timbers and brickwork.  My eclectic tastes in decoration and modest furnishings broke the huge floor up into different spaces.  My favorite was my 'main room,' which had a seating area that faced the huge multi-paned windows which looked out over Seattle and the Sound, giving a panoramic view.

She finally spoke, “This is amazing.  Not what I expected at all.”

I wasn't sure how to take that, feeling the need to know just exactly what it was that this small, familiar woman, had expected.

I shrugged and channeled my alter ego. “It ain't a fuckin' penthouse, but it's home.”

She just cocked her head and squinted her eyes a bit at that, I still couldn't read her, and it was driving me bonkers.  I exhaled, unburdened myself from the things I was carrying, then turned away and headed toward the freestanding bathroom in the middle of the space.  “Make yourself at home, I need to get cleaned up.  Be right back.”

I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning my back against it and exhaling.  I mean, did you see how cute she was?  Ok pull it together Nala, she's expecting Na Na, not you.  I turned on the multi-jetted shower in the open shower stall, the only real luxury I have besides the huge clawfoot bathtub in that same open stall.

After peeling off my workout clothes,  I stepped into the steaming spray, I absently wondered just how Karmin knew I liked grape juice.  It was such an odd thing to give someone.  And why did she bring it anyway?  I wrote it off as her obvious obsession with anime, she was mimicking a lot of Japanese mannerisms.

I smirked at myself as I realized I was getting a little turned on knowing I was in here, naked,  sudsing up while she was just on the other side of the door.  I purred to myself, “Down girl.”

I scrubbed the sweat of my workout away quickly, not allowing myself any distractions.  Then scrubbed my hair down and brushed my fingers through it.  Hell, it would take twenty minutes to dry and put product in, so the hawk could stand proudly in my signature look.  But, I didn't want to leave her waiting, so I ran a comb through the length then curled it around my neck like a damp scarf and let it lay against my back.

The weight of it when it was wet like this reminded me of junior high and high school when I had, even more hair, without having the sides of my head shaved.  I sort of missed it.  I glanced in the mirror to see that the stubble on the sides were showing some golden roots.  I'd have to touch that up with black later, to keep up the image.

I headed out the other door of the bathroom into my bedroom space that was only hidden from view of the main room by the bathroom which stood in the middle of the overall space.  I quickly got dressed, covering all of the memories emblazoned on my skin in black ink.  I slid on the new leather half-jacket that I loved so much then checked myself in the antique freestanding mirror by the bed.

I didn't have time to put on my dark makeup, as Karmin had already been waiting over ten minutes.  I'm sure she had better things to do tonight than delivering a message for me.  I should have just found out what it was and let her go on her way, but... it was sort of nice having someone other than Mads and Dani at my place.  My self-imposed isolation up here is kind of – lonely.

I took a deep breath and pulled confidence over myself like a veil, and walked around the corner.  I paused.  She was standing by the windows, the lights of Seattle playing across her face as she looked at the low bookcase.  Out of all the copious books and topics, her hand was resting almost timidly on my old, worn out and dog-eared Jules Verne collection as she looked out across the Sound, its waves glittering in the distance.

Those books have always been my favorites.  When I was younger, they were my only escape from the regimen of studies and activities that demanded most of my time.  That escape, into worlds of imagination and wonder, had me reading them over and over until the pages started getting loose in their bindings and some of the dogeared corners had ripped off.

Any moment I could spare from my studies, my nose was in those books, immersing myself in those worlds of fantasy.

When had I stopped reading them?  I really should pick them up again.  Was it in college?  I knew the answer, and it stung.  It was when my media empire was born when I created Na Na Evermore as a brand for my Senior thesis.

I actually started cultivating the idea back in my sophomore year.  The concept of a punk paramour who was the exact opposite of myself, knowing I'd need to do something spectacular as the students all around me were so massively artistic and talented.

There weren't many people at the Academy who were marketing majors, most were artists of some sort that had talent to spare.  The marketing track was seen almost as the pariah of the school, the kids who couldn't do, only promote.

Had Karmin somehow instinctively known the significance of the books?

I prompted the woman, “You said Zoey had a message for me?”

She jumped a little, she had been lost in her own world.  She turned and smiled.  I caught her aborting that little bow of hers as she said, “Hai.”  She pulled out a small envelope and held it out to me.

She cocked her head as I strode up to her to take it, and she gave a crooked little smile as she looked me over.

What was that about?  I cocked an eyebrow, and she looked down, saying softly, “Sorry.  You just look different without the makeup, more like your old self.”

I blinked at that, what was that supposed to mean?  Nobody except my couple of friends had seen me out of character.  I changed the topic quickly from me as I eyed the envelope.  “So what...”

She finished, “Is it?  A thank you from Mrs. Torville's daughter.”

I smirked at her anticipatory answer as I opened the envelope and looked at the card, saying, “Zoey would kick your ass for calling her that.”  Then I smiled at the message.  God, Zoey's kids were like the coolest kids.

Karmin admitted, “She insisted on me calling her Zoey, or Mrs. Z.  It just felt proper manners to address her formally with others or in mixed company.”

I paused and cocked my head and really took her in.  Again she seemed to be exhibiting odd cultural queues that had my Scooby sense prompting me to ask in Japanese, “Anata wa nihongo o hanasemasu ka, Karmin-san?”

Her smile bloomed as she inclined her head in a tiny bow, “Hai.  I've lived the last six years in Tokyo, as an English interpreter and personal assistant.”  Then she grinned down at her hands and shared, “Your Japanese is atrocious.”

My face was splitting into a grin.  Ignoring her cute barb at my rusty Japanese, I replied, “Hey, I only took two years of Japanese back in high school.”

Then I motioned up and down at her. “I thought it was just some sort of anime obsession.”  I quickly added, my eyes widening a bit. “Which totally works for you, I'm not knocking it.”

She was blushing profusely and ground a foot on the floor as she admitted, “Well I am sort of an anime otaku.  But I like the style.”

I made an ushering motion as I shot one last furtive glance at the books.  “Have a seat, unless you have somewhere to go that is.”

She shook her head, sat almost daintily, then brushed her hair behind her ears with both hands.  Again, that action seemed far too familiar to me, and I wracked my brains trying to figure out why she looked so damn familiar to me.

I was at a loss.  Na Na could talk about anything and everything, but she was just sitting in the back of my head, smugly watching.  Oh!  “I was about to order out before I locked the lobby for the night.  Care to join me?  I'm sure we have things that need discussing about this personal assistant stuff.  I mean, I've never had one and don't know exactly how that works.  Are you more like my handler or something?  Keep me in line for the fukin' suits?”

She shook her head and said the opposite of what her eyes were telling me, “No, I couldn't.”

There was something about that.  Then I remembered that she had those sort of blended cultural quirks.  Wasn't there something about spontaneous invitations in Japan?

Oh yeah, I remember now.  We're sort of crass and forward here in the States, and social protocol means next to nothing to us.  But over there...  I prompted again, “No really, it is no problem.”

She looked down at her hands as she clasped them in her lap, “Thank you, but I don't wish to be a burden.”

If I was right, then this would do it. “I insist.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you.  It would be an honor.”

In Japanese culture, the onus is on the recipient of the unexpected invitation to refuse until asked three times.  This signifies the host's genuine wishes rather than them just being polite.  It also explained the grape juice.

Here it is polite to bring something when you visit someone's house, but not necessarily practiced outside of socialite circles or families.

There it is etiquette that is adhered to almost strictly.  To show up empty handed can be viewed as an insult or slight to the host.  It isn't uncommon to hear stories of the guest who shows up empty handed, opening their wallets to offer cash to the host in apology.  As odd as it may sound to us, it would be a slight if the host refused the offer.

I glanced to where I sat the grape juice on the side table near the bathroom.  It still didn't explain how she knew my favorite drink besides coffee.

I cocked my head at her.  She looked to be about my age, twenty-four or so, though her outfit gave her a more youthful look.  She had lived in Japan the last six years?  So basically her entire adult life.  It must have been a culture shock moving to a foreign land and learning all their customs.

I wondered if it hadn't been as much of a culture shock coming back the America, or does it all just stick with you?  It must get confusing at times.  But the blending of cultures made the woman just that much cuter to me.

She said as she cocked her head at me, “I thought you'd be out at a rave or something.  Doing a podcast.”

I shook my head as I grabbed the landline handset on the coffee table. Yes, I still have a landline, if you tease me about it, you can just go get stuffed. “I wanted to give my full attention to this new endeavor with the station, so my Monday's are slated for KVRL only.”

Before she could ask again, I prompted, “Chinese?  Pizza?  Italian?”

She perked up at that.  “There is an Italian place that delivers?”

Ah ha!  I've found a weakness!  I shall exploit it to the best of my abilities.  Insert evil inner grin here.

I nodded. “Of course there are Italian places that deliver, this is Seattle after all.  I doubt there is any style food you can't find in the Emerald City that doesn't deliver.  But this isn't just any Italian.”

I was already dialing as I wiggled my eyebrows at her and said, “This is Alessandro's.”

Her jaw dropped, and she asked, “Alessandro's delivers?  I though they were upper crust.”

I nodded, channeling some of my alter ego as I smirked.  “They don't, and they are.  Best Italian in a hundred mile radius.  A friend of mine, Crystal, introduced me to the owner, Alessandro... awesome man.  He knows my schedule is the nightlife, which leaves little time for a real life, so he let me know that I can call anytime and he'll have food sent out.”

She looked suitably impressed, and then I furrowed my brow before smiling at a thought.  The man never once charged me, saying you don't take money from friends.  Maybe I could finally repay his kindness.  I said quickly before the call was answered.  “Hey, personal assistant-y person. Make a note to talk to Porter about putting Alessandro's in the rotation for the segment, would you?”

She just gave a smug smile and nodded, and I noted she was already finishing up typing something on her cell.  Had she anticipated the request after I brought the place up?  Shit, she really was like Cassandra wasn't she?

Someone answered and I said, “Hi, this is Na Na Evermore.  Would it be possible to have some food delivered?  Yes?  Thank you, we'll have...”  I covered the receiver and looked over at Karmin expectantly.

She shyly offered, “As silly as it may sound, I'll have spaghetti and meatballs, just like you.”

Fut the actual ever loving ferret humping wuck?  How did she know that?  I'm calling bullshit on this here and now after I order.  I passed along the order, and they said to expect it within the hour.

I pressed the end button and slowly and deliberately placed the handset in the charging cradle. Then I sat back, then locked my eyes on her then accused in a frosty tone, “Would you mind explaining how you know what I like to drink, what I like to eat... and just why you look so god damned familiar to me?  I know it isn't because you're dressed like Haruhi Suzumiya!  Do I know you from somewhere?”

Chapter 5 – Reunion

Nala looked dangerously calm with fire in her eyes as she asked me, “Would you mind explaining how you know what I like to drink, what I like to eat... and just why you look so god damned familiar to me?  I know it isn't because you're dressed like Haruhi Suzumiya!  Do I know you from somewhere?”

Her voice was as cold as liquid nitrogen, freezing the space between us.

While the rest of me was frightened as I swallowed hard, the little chibi inside me was as pleased as a chipmunk that she knew what had inspired my outfit choice today.  Nala liked anime back then as well, she had a few character t-shirts she wore to school on occasion.

Gah! When had she gotten such fire and confidence?  Grr, I had been over her for quite some time, so why did I feel my old crush peeking out through my eyes as she stared at me, waiting for an answer?  I'm so weak.

I just nodded.  Her hard glare wavered, and I saw a smile ticking at the corner of her mouth, heavens above, I was amusing her.  She sighed and asked pointedly, “Would you care to share with the rest of the class?”

I nervously pushed my hair back with both hands.  The act had her eyes narrowing a little like she was trying to recall something, and I nodded again and said, “There.”  Like it was obvious.  Well, it was obvious to me, bet she didn't even know I existed back then.  It wasn't her fault, I just always lost my nerve whenever I tried to will myself to go over and speak with her.

She let out an exasperated breath, and her amusement bled away into frustrated anger. “Don't get cryptic, did the fuckin' studio go poking around into my personal life?”

Ok, scary Nala is scary!

I was making a mess of this I looked at my feet.  They didn't quite touch the ground on this comfortable overstuffed couch.  I felt like a teen again... then I straightened.  No, I'm a different person than I was then, we both are.  I'm stronger now.

I turned to look into her expectant gaze, that fire was the new part of her that she developed with her Na Na persona.  As scary as it was, it sort of made a part of me want to cheer for her.  She had finally found her courage.

I explained, “I know you from class.  We sort of went to school together.”

She blinked twice in surprise then asked with a tinge of amusement in her tone, “Sort of?  Did you attend the Art Aca... no, you just said you've been in Japan the last six years.”

I shrugged and expounded, “Sort of, you know, junior high and high school...”

She looked almost pained at that, as if she felt bad she couldn't recall.  I shook my head and offered with a shrug and a sad smile, “We didn't really know each other.  I just sort of remember things about you.”

She blinked at me, her eyes moving like she was stripping back the layers of memories that have built up upon her foundation over the years, and her eyes went wide as she stabbed an accusing finger at me and blurted, “Kitty K-Hue!?”  She looked so excited that she had just figured it out.

I started giggling. “Masaka, I haven't heard that name in so long.”  I hated the name Karmin when I was younger, so I went by Kitty, and all the other geeks in the gaming club started calling me K-Hue.

I was able to redefine myself after high school, and shed the Kitty name for my real name again.  I'm sort of loving my name now.  Heck, there's even a famous singer who spells her name the same as me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and smiled at her as I squished my head down to my shoulders.  I tried not to giggle, I felt like I was acting like an anime girl with my actions, I could almost feel my imaginary cat ears and tail swishing around.  She must think I'm still that geek from back then.  Ok, whatever, I may or may not still have a geek tendency or two.

She grinned and said the last thing I would have ever expected in like a kajillion years, “You were awesome.  So popular.”

She flopped down on the couch on the far side from me, looking far too pleased with herself.  The accompanying smile was a good look on her, and the way she had that amazing tail of hair wrapped around her n... wait!  She was hiding her tattoos! Why?

I narrowed my eyes.  In every Na Na Evermore podcast you could only see the teasing hints and edges of her ink, and downstairs, the dim lighting she had on in the dance studio didn't afford me a good look at them.

I tried not to stare at the parts of her arms she didn't have shrouded in the towel when we came up the elevator.  I couldn't make out much in my peripheral vision, just some gears and clockworks.  It was so very steampunk and organic looking.  But now she wore her jacket that hid her arms and a longer shirt.  Now my curiosity was screaming that it just had to know.

I sighed.  Maybe one day she'd trust me to see them?

I shook my head and got back on topic as I squeaked out, “Umm... maybe I was wrong, it sounds like you and I went to completely different schools.  In what world would the butt of all the school's geek jokes, be popular?”

She shook her head and shrugged then she suddenly looked terrified for a moment.  It was just a flash. Then she said carefully, “Then you remember me before...”  She motioned up and down herself.

A little voice in my head told me I had to be really careful about my response.  She looked like a rabbit ready to run from a lunging dragon. I nodded with a smile. “That girl is still in there, under that awesome veneer you've built around her.”  That was it.  I understood now, Na Na was like a suit of armor for her, not just a brilliant marketing creation.  I squeaked out, “I've always loved your long hair.”

She actually blushed slightly at that.  Then she brushed aside the topic and circled back around to me as she looked genuinely confused and asked, “What do you mean?  You had people around you all the time.  You were the president of the gaming club and sci-fi club.  You got to have fun doing what you loved anytime you wanted.”

I blinked then giggled. “You and I have different definitions of popular.  It was the gaming club and the sci-fi club.  By definition that made us the unpopular kids.  It was a geek cloud that surrounded me, and nobody wanted to get close to us, or they'd catch a severe case of nerdlings.”

She shrugged and sounded a million miles away as she said, “Yet you were surrounded by people who 'got' you, and enjoyed the same things.  Face it, woman, you were a geek queen among your subjects.  That... is popularity.”  Then she added almost in question. “Some of us would have killed to have friends around us like that.”

I plowed forward because she seemed to be thinking about something that made her unhappy. “I just noticed over the years how you always had your head in a book at lunch, and always worked through it without eating, only studying.”

I cocked my head toward the grape juice over where she set it down. “You just drank a bottle of grape juice.”

Then I brightened, and smiled at the memory her books by the window had sparked. “But one day a month, you changed your routine.  Instead of school books, you'd bring in a Jules Verne book and actually eat lunch as you read.”

I prompted almost smugly, “Those were the days...”

She interrupted with a tinge of wonder in her voice, “...they served spaghetti and meatballs.”  Oh, so that's what others feel like when I interrupt them and finish their sentences.  I nodded with a silly grin on my face.

She nodded as well, as her brow furrowed in thought, and she shared in a faraway voice, “I made a deal with myself back then, that I would defy mom and allow myself just one day for myself each month.  I love spaghetti and meatballs, so I chose the day it came into the rotation as my cheat day.”

She looked over at the bookcase. “So I read the books I wanted to, ate what I wanted to, and escaped into the world inside those books, if only for a while.”

Her mom was the one pushing her to be so studious?  She sounded almost pained and haunted about it.  She glanced nervously at me and then slid over closer to me.  My heart started beating faster just from the closeness to her.

Nala pulled up a sleeve and pointed at a spot on the amazing tattoo sleeve that twisted around her arm like wisps of smoke.  It had no color to it, it was only sharp black lines and shadow that created a stream of gears, cranks, and pressure vessels that had an almost organic feel.

I smiled at the wistful look on her face as she pointed at a fantastical submarine in the mix.  She explained, “The Nautilus, from Verne's books.  One of my memories.”  She indicated some of the other things woven into the amazing artwork that was now part of her skin.  I wanted to see more, to ask questions but she pulled her sleeve back down, hiding them from my gaze.

Memories?  I asked, “Are they all memories?”

She nodded and nervously smoothed down the sleeve of her jacket with one hand.  “I don't ever talk about them, they're private.  I don't know why I'm saying anything now.  Maybe because you knew me before Na Na.  They're all my happy memories.  I had so few growing up I didn't ever want to lose them.”

She seemed happy about that revelation, so why did I feel so very... sad?  Then I snorted when she pointed at me and put her airs back on.

“You go blabbin' about it, and I'll have to kick your fuckin' ass into next week.”  It would have scared the bejesus out of me if she wasn't smirking when she said it.

Then she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head as she regarded me.  “You remembered that stuff about me?  From so many years ago?”

I started, “Well I had the biggest crush on....”  Kuso!  Why does my mouth start talking before my brain engages?  I exhaled audibly, and my cheeks were on fire as my blush threatened to consume my entire being.

She had the biggest shit eating grin on her face, with a little shock thrown into her expression.  “Oh reeeealy?  Why didn't you ever say, or at least come over to say hi?  That would have been a start.  Everyone sort of stayed away from me.”

The cat was out of the bag, and I defended weakly, “Hey, we were kids, and I got over it.  You were the ice queen brainiac that never spoke with anyone, and I was... well I was just me.  I was too scared to approach you.  When I finally gathered the courage, you had transferred out when you and your mother moved across town.”

She squished her lips to one side, and repeated, “Got over it...”

She looked almost hurt by that, so I quickly blurted, “You had the most awesome hair.  I wished I had the discipline to have grown mine out so long.  It was like a golden cape that flowed down your back.”  I stopped my hand half way to her damp hair as I looked at the long coils of ebony wrapped around her neck.  The mohawk part was drying and starting to stand up a bit.

She tensed as she looked between my hand and her hair, then she sat up a little straighter and explained as she uncoiled it from around her neck and sort of offered it to me with it draped across her hands. “Everything had to be perfect for me to live up to mom's expectations.  I liked long hair, mom wanted it short, so it didn't distract me.  She allowed me to keep my hair long as long as I took care of it, and it didn't take time from my studies.”

She looked at a point in space just over my head as I took her hair in my hands and just looked at the amazing length and shine of it. “If it looked anything but high society like she pretended to be, then she'd have it cut.”

Then Nala gave me a wicked smile. “It was the one thing I had control of about my looks that wasn't dictated to me.  I think that's why I keep the tail, as a reminder that I can be in control of some parts of my life.”

She was getting a bit uncomfortable, I could tell by her shifting around in the seat.  I grudgingly dropped her hair, wondering just how silky it would feel when it dried.  Then steered the conversation to something less stressful for her.  My heart hurt for her when she described how her mother was with her.  It sounded as if she were living for her mom, not herself.

So I shifted the topic slightly.  I grinned and asked, “So why the grape juice instead of lunch?  It was such a mystery, and it drove me crazy trying to figure it out?”

Then this woman, who tried so very hard to be the epitome of intimidation and personality, got the cutest smile on her face and rocked over to bump me playfully.  She said, “I didn't have time with my studies, to go out and make any money babysitting, mowing lawns, or the other things kids did for spending money.”

The wicked smile was back on her face as she confided, “So I saved up my lunch money every day, just opting for drinking some grape juice instead.”

Then she pointed at me and swung her finger toward the wall of windows as she challenged, “Grape juice is awesome.  If you don't agree, then you can leave now... through the window.”  She gave a playfully maniacal grin which had me smiling and scrunching my head to my shoulders in return.

Then her smile became decidedly lopsided and sheepish as she finished, “The only hole in my brilliant plan was that I never went anywhere or did anything, so I didn't have much to spend the money on.  Over five years, I had saved over a thousand dollars.  It came in handy later in my life, so there is that.”

I was tempted to make a brainiac joke, but she spoke first, raising an eyebrow and almost accusing with a smile in her voice, “So, ice queen?  Is that really what the other kids thought of me?”

I was saved by the intercom buzzing.  She squinted her eyes at me, and I just grinned and giggled.  She stood and stabbed a finger at me in the air, then left to the elevator with a smile gracing her face.  Nala was a pretty fun lady, even with all the damage that laid beneath that I had a feeling was just scratching the surface.

She hit a button. “Yes?”

The response was simply, “Alessandro's.”

She looked back at me and wiggled her eyebrows as she hit a button outside the freight elevator and it started creaking and groaning as it headed down without her.  A minute later it returned.  I blinked at her when she opened the gates and picked up a large bag on the floor of the otherwise empty elevator.

She shrugged at me when she saw my interest. “They deliver a lot to me.  I mean...”  She held the bag up to me and motioned with her head for me to follow, “...spaghetti.  Hello.”

I giggled as she led me to a tall table by the kitchen area of the big open space, this open floor plan was sort of awesome, like most things about her I realized.

The tall woman turned at my giggle, and she prompted, “Don't make me have to kick your ass.  Don't personal assistants have a code or something about not laughing at the people they are assistant-izing to?”

I strained to withhold another giggle.

That whole night had been so surreal to me up to that point, and it continued to be so as I actually had dinner... spaghetti and meatballs of all things, with possibly the sexiest and scariest woman in Seattle.

We wound up speaking late into the night after dinner about our lives in junior high and high school.  She sounded sheepish when I revealed that we did have one class together in high school, though I didn't let her know I had taken that Japanese class because of her.  It's so odd how that one decision has shaped my adult life.

She reflected, “God, I don't remember.  But in junior high, you were far too adorable.  Then you... and now...”  Where words failed her, she used her expressive face and cocked an eyebrow salaciously.  I blushed and shoved her shoulder at that, which made her laugh and me smile.

Yes, I was even tinier back then, I hit my final growth spurt in my sophomore year when that bitch called puberty smacked me around.  I didn't gain more than a couple inches in height, but she did gift me with a few curves and this chest of mine.  I blushed with the knowledge she may have not noticed me back then, but she certainly did now.

I can't blame her, I had changed my looks drastically in high school, much as Nala has done with her Na Na persona.  And I stayed out of the spotlight as I struggled with my sexuality.  Looking back, it should have been obvious to me.  I did have a crush on Nala after all, but we don't always see the obvious right in front of us when we are kids.  I just saw it a girl crush, other girls get those right?

She shared with me that she had a building she was going to start remodeling, so she might actually be cutting back just a little on her blogging and podcasts.  My jaw had dropped when she shared it was an old playhouse, and that was cool to the nth degree to me.  I mean who else can say, “Oh by the way, I own a theater.”?

I thought it showed a maturity and business savvy which people wouldn't expect from the brash punk rocker she projected to the world.  Creating a venue for the scene rather than simply living vicariously through it showed a forward thinking which most people our age didn't really have.

She was planning for the future, and I could see this venture being wildly successful.  Especially using the celebrity of Na Na Evermore to jumpstart it.  It was just about guaranteed to be a success.  My respect for her doubled at this revelation.

I was actually sad when I yawned for the fifth time around two in the morning.  I hadn't had such a  good time speaking with someone like this in my entire life.  And my heart warmed a bit at the look of regret on her face when she realized the inevitable.

She said, “Looks like your anime ass is about to turn into a pumpkin.  You should get home before you're too tired to move.”

I quipped back, feeling like we were already getting to be good friends, “Whatever, Elvira.”

We shared a smile, and she walked me out, stopping at the elevator for me to put my shoes back on.

When we reached the lobby doors downstairs, she looked almost shy as she said as she held a door open for me, “Take care of yourself, runt. See you next week?”

I was nodding at her, feeling awkward for some unfathomable reason, it was like I was in junior high all over again.  Then I perked up when she said, “Unless you want to... you know, hang out or some shit tomorrow?  I have to shoot a podcast tomorrow night at a rave.  Or whatever.”

I just nodded and then scurried past her into the salty night air of Seattle before my courage failed me.  I paused and looked back, “Arigatou gozaimasu, Nala-chan.  I had a really great time tonight.”  I inclined my head slightly.

She smiled as she rested a cheek on the edge of the door she was holding open a bit as she watched me, “No, thank you, Karmin.  It is the unexpected things in life that build the best memories.”

I walked backward toward my car, watching her watch me.  It wasn't until I slid into my car that she shut and locked the lobby door.  And she watched my car leave as a flash went off.  I snorted when I watched her flip off the paparazzi on the corner through the glass door before turning back down the corridor.

Chapter 6 – Sunshiny Day

The next morning I couldn't keep the smile off my face when I stepped into the station to see if there was anyone I could help out and keep myself from going stark raving mad out of boredom.  I really needed to speak to Miss Graves about giving me more clients to assist.

Nala wasn't one to need constant handholding, heck, I doubted she needed a PA at all, she was that well put together regardless of her troubled past and family life.

I paused at my reflection in the door as I entered, I chose to dress like Isla from Plastic Memories that day.  With a white blouse and skirt with a little red tie.  It put a little skip in my step, and I decided to take the stairs as I waved at Marty, the morning lobby security guard.  The big silly man waved enthusiastically back.  He was sweet for such a big bear.

I slid into my cubicle on the third floor and glanced at all the paperwork other PAs had dropped on my desk already.  I guess I wouldn't need to ask for more busy work.  I sighed and started looking at the notes attached to the paperwork for me.

I paused and glanced around.  Nobody would meet my gaze.  That's right people, I know you're offloading the most tedious things in your workloads.  I sighed and pushed the files away, I'd get to them after I checked my email.

I almost jumped out of my seat when a copy of the Seattle Tattler landed hard in front of me on my desk.  I blinked at the cover picture on the gossip rag.  It was a picture of me slipping out of Nala's building with her cutely holding the edge of the lobby door.  My blood ran cold at the big bold headline, 'Na Na Evermore, shacking up with a teen?'.

The photo was dark, and you couldn't make out my face, but I was so small compared to Nala, and I was wearing an anime school uniform.

I cringed as Porter said in a disturbingly calm tone while her eyes were tearing me to shreds. “I don't know what kind of place they are running at our Japanese subsidiary.”  She stabbed the article with a well-manicured finger.  “I don't know what they have PAs doing there, but here, we don't run that kind of service.  When we say to cater to the client's every whim, it doesn't mean this.”

She thought... wha... no.  I blurted, “Nothing happened!  I was...”

She shook her head and interrupted. “I don't care what your excuse is Cass.”  She was pointing back. “HR is waiting to speak with you, and we'll be assigning a new PA to Miss Dupree.”

I almost whined as my pulse thrummed in my ears, almost deafening me, “You're going to believe a gossip rag?  I...”

She paused and then softened a little and said, “The problem is, it doesn't matter what I do or don't believe.  All corporate see is a blemish on their reputation, whether true or not.  And now we have to go into damage control mode.  It is you in that picture, so the buck stops there.”

I will not cry, I will not cry.  I looked away from her, tears brimming in my eyes and I wiped them quickly on my sleeve before hardening my look, and I marched past her as I muttered, “Got it.  Sacrificial lamb.  Take one for the team.  Doesn't matter that I'm good at my job.”

She was saying as I passed her, “Cass...  Karmin.”  She looked conflicted.  All I could think was that she seemed to believe it at first, and that hurt.  I sort of looked up to Porter here, since I wanted to be a producer one day.  I don't think she believed it now, but she should know my character by now.

My little chibi in my head was shaking her fist at me.  I know, I know, if something really had happened, I doubt I would have stopped myself.  I mean... it's Nala.

I trudged to the elevator, feeling like a teenager again being sent off to the principals office.  My super sunshiny day had just clouded over.

***

Kuso!  I lugged another white canvas bag marked U.S. Mail out of the cart.  Just how much mail did a news studio receive each day?  This was my third bag to sort, and there were still two more.  The guys in the mail room seemed quite pleased there was fresh meat to do the menial tasks.

I had been relegated to the mail room when I had been given a choice between it and suspension until corporate decided what to do with me.  It came down to me being one of the most efficient PAs in the studio that saved me from being summarily fired, even though I didn't do anything wrong.

They even agreed it was most likely a misunderstanding, but the damage by the Tattler had already been done, and I shouldn't have been at the talent's residence at two A.M.  They kept calling Nala 'the talent' instead of using her name.  I felt dirty and degraded by the time I left to my new task.  I was a good personal assistant, I loved my job, that was the only reason I didn't just tell them where they could stick it.

So here I was, sorting the mail into bundles for each office, stamping and logging some of it under the supervision of Kon and Armin.  Well sure, their names are really Greg and Jared. But Greg is kind of pervy, always sneaking looks at me like Kon from Bleach, and Jared reminds me of Armin from Attack on Titan because he seems sort of scared of his own shadow.

They are actually sort of cute and harmless, reminding me of the geeks I grew up knowing.  And I have to say, they certainly know their jobs.  They are like the Deus Ex Machina of the mail room.  They have instant answers to any question I have and are really helpful in instructing me of the proper procedures.

Though I did catch their victorious grins when they decided it was best for me to start out on the sorting table.  I grinned over at them where they were loading the delivery carts and whispering to each other as they stole glances toward me.

I shook a finger their way. “You're not as clever as you think you are, boys. I know your game here.”

They looked like two kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar.  A blush on Greg's round face and the dimpling of Jared's ebony cheeks said volumes.  They were the same awkward sort of kids that me and my group had been, and I had to grin at them.

As I sorted and they double-checked everything I was doing, Jared asked, “So why is a daylighter down here with us grunts?  You must have really pissed off the wrong person.”

I blinked and repeated, “Daylighter?”

Greg nudged his chin up. “You know, the ones not down in the hole here in the sub-basement, the ones who walk in daylight by their windows.  The important people.”

I stopped at that and forcefully shoved the stack of unsorted mail in my hands back into the bin and snapped out, “Hidoi!  Don't ever say that!  Your job is just as important as anyone else.  Without the proper support, even the strongest structure will fail.  A business is dependent on a team working together.”

I pinned them with my eyes. “Each person contributes to the success of the company.  Without you, nobody gets their mail, can you imagine how chaotic that would be to the station?  It doesn't matter if you are the CEO, the custodian, a reporter, or you work in the mailroom, your job is just as important as anyone else's.”

They both seemed to straighten a little, and I could see a bit of pride in their eyes, so I teased, “Now get back to work. Be-da!”  I stuck out my tongue and pulled down my left eyelid.

Jared chuckled and said as he started working again, “You're weird.”  Then he added quickly. “In a good way.”

Greg nodded and added, “And hot.”  Followed immediately by, “Ow!” as Jared slapped the back of his head, sending his red hair flopping forward.

I pointed at his cart, trying not to grin at the poor boy. “Get back to work, the daylighters won't get their mail by magic.”

I giggled at Greg mumbling, “Why do I get the feeling she's in charge now?”

By noon we had all the mail sorted and loaded onto the carts.  They showed me the organization system.  The lower levels of the building were on top to the upper levels on the bottom.  The second cart was for the executives.  They usually traded carts each day, so they didn't get too bored.

I'd be working with Greg after lunch delivering to the general workers since it was Jared's turn to do the executives.  He seemed pretty excited about that, and I squinted one eye and asked with a tone of suspicion, “So why do you really switch deliveries?  It isn't so you don't get bored.  You seem a little too eager Armin.”

Greg looked at me in confusion. “Who's Armin?”

I rolled my eyes. “Jared is.  Do try to keep up, Kon.”

I think Jared got the references because he covered his mouth to hide his smile when I called Greg Kon.  Then he said, as they both blushed, “I get to deliver to Mr. Kernan's secretary, Miss Gomez.  She's so sophisticated, and always nice to us.”

Greg nodded. “And hot.”

I slapped the back of his head, and he just grinned like he had been rewarded.

I rolled my eyes and teased, “If she's that pretty then maybe I should make the delivery.  I'd have a better chance than you two.”

They chuckled, and Greg said, “Only if you were a...”  His eyes went wide as I challenged him with my own eyes.  “No way, you're...”

I sighed and supplied,  “Hai.  A lesbian.  You can say it, it isn't that hard.”

I was having fun.  I felt all the supreme confidence I only felt back when I was the president of the gaming club.  Just like then, I was among my people here.  This must be what Nala felt like all the time.  I would have died of embarrassment joking around like this with anyone other than a fellow geek.  Why couldn't I be this assertive all the time?

I sighed again and reached over and closed Jared's mouth for him before he caught some flies.

Then their shock was gone in an instant when Greg said, “It's lunchtime.  You ummm... uhh...”

Jared finished, “You wanna eat with us, or do you have other plans, Sakura?”

I...  he... I touched my forehead self-consciously.  I didn't have a big forehead like Sakura from Naruto, did I?  Well, only Ino thought she had a big forehead... he was teasing me.  I squinted one eye and shook a finger at him.  “I'd be delighted to join you two.”  I had wanted to eat with them anyway, but it is bad form for an outsider to invite oneself.  Or was that just in Japan?

They led the way, and Greg asked, “So, like, do you know any pretty girls you could hook us up with?”

Jared shook his head incredulously at his friend as I shared with them, “If I knew any pretty girls I'd be too afraid to ask them out myself.”

We shared a chuckle and headed to the cafeteria.  That's when my cell started buzzing.  I pulled it out and froze when I looked at the screen, Nala?  I felt the blood drain from my face.  She must have seen the article.  Now she was going to yell at me too.

I told them when they stopped with me, concern on their faces.  I placed a hand on Jared's arm. “You two go on without me, I have to take this, I'll catch up.”

They nodded, eyes narrowing.  They were sweet, being concerned about someone they had just met that day.

As soon as they were back on their way, I looked around and slid into a broom closet and answered, “H... hello?”

I held the phone from my ear as Nala yelled, “What the actual hamster licking fuck, Karmin?  I got a call from Devon.  Who the fuck is Devon?  He's telling me he's my new personal assistant from the station and asking if there is anything he can do for me!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she kept going. “Yes Devon, you can do something for me, you can get yourself the fuck off the fucking phone and get me the fuck Karmin.”

She seemed to be growling like she was searching for words.  I said meekly, “That's a lot of uses of the f-word.  Not to the scale of the f-fest in the middle of Shaun of the Dead, but impressive nonetheless.”

She snorted. “Stop that.  I'm pissed at you, so you don't get to be all cute here.  What the hell did I do?  I thought we got along great last night, you were awesome.  Then I find out you don't want to be my PA anymore?  And I get this Devon?  I mean god damn it, Kar.”

I took a moment to process what she was saying.  Had they actually told her I didn't want to be her PA anymore or had she assumed?  And she was talking harshly like she did when she hid behind her Na Na armor.  I prompted with that thought, “Am I speaking with Na Na or Nala?”

She was deathly silent for so long that I thought we may have lost the connection.  Then she asked in an almost unsure tone, “Does it matter?”

I nodded into thin air like she could see it, and said, “Actually, yes.  Yes, it does.”

After a moment of hesitation, she said quietly as she calmed, “I don't know, maybe a little of both?”

I admitted as my stomach tied itself in knots, “I prefer to speak to Nala since she's the real you.  And I didn't request the changeup.”

She paused again then asked, “Then why...”

I finished for her, “...did they assign Devon to you?”

She affirmed. “Yeah.  And why...”

I supplied, “...was I reassigned?”

She snorted and complained, “You're doing that Cassandra thing again, it's a little unnerving.  Just tell me what's going on, or I'll have to march down there just to give you the stink eye.  I'm up to my elbows in contracts and blueprints and contractors wanting to give bids and estimates, so I don't have time for the stink-eye.”

I cringed and squinted one eye as I asked, dreading being the one to point it out to her, “You haven't seen yet?”

She sounded equal parts exasperated and amused as she warned, “You're pushing it, Kar, I feel the stink-eye comin' on.  Seen what?”

I said the two words which instilled fear in every local celebrity, “Seattle Tattler.”

She growled out in resignation, “Oh Lord, what now?  I grew a schlong or had an alien love child or something?”  Then she covered the mouthpiece. “Kat, Bethany!  Tattler, now!”

I had to slap my hand over my mouth to stop a titter at her first guess.  I wonder if she knew how much of Na Na bled through to herself, and just how funny she really was.

I heard the rustling of paper then she snorted and said, “Would you look at that, I'm cradle robbing and stealing some young schoolgirls virtue.”  Then she asked, sounding not at all upset for some reason, “You didn't tell me you were a teen when we started shacking up.  So what were you, like eight in high school then?  Fuckin' paparazzi morons.”

I asked, my voice colored in confused over her reaction, “Aren't you upset?  They're dragging your name through the mud with those sleazy allegations.”

I could almost envision her head shaking as she said plainly, “If I went about getting upset at every lie told about me in these rags, I'd need to be committed and put in one of those padded rooms.  I'll let you in on a little secret that promoters everywhere know.  There is no such thing as bad publicity.”

She sounded smug as she went on. “Whether it is true or not, it is getting my name out there.  Those who know me will high five me, those who don't and want to judge me will look me up.  Things like this expose more people to my brand.”

Then she added, “Besides, this only plays into my image, so long as they don't try to imply I'm doin' it with a minor.”  Then she said with a fake British accent, “Come on love, I'm Na Na fuckin' Evermore.”

Ok, I'm not too proud to admit that I giggled at that.

Then she asked in a softer voice, “Is this why you requested a change?  Because you thought this would upset me?”

I shook my head as I almost whispered into my cell, “I didn't.  They think it gives the station a black eye and looks like they were providing ummm escort services to woo you.”

She said offhandedly, “Eh, I could do a lot worse than you.”

I whispered in shock, “Hey!  Don't get smug.  They think I was plying you with sexual favors.  I don't... I couldn't... I'm a professional.”

Nala's voice took on a sharp edge as she covered the receiver again and yelled, “Someone get me the numbers for the Seattle Evermore piece!”  Then to me, she said dangerously, “One, they have no way of knowing who you are from this article, let alone connect you with the station.  So two, I guess it's time for Na Na to live up to her reputation and go down and tear the studio a new arsehole.”

I sputtered out, “No!  You can't do that.  I need this job.  I'd have to start from the bottom all over again.”

She offered in a predatory tone, “Oh, your job is safe.  Just hang tight a couple days, it's time for Na Na to go on the prowl.  This is gonna be fun.  You're my assistant, or no one is.”

That sent a shudder, not too terribly unpleasant, down my spine.  Kuso!  This can't possibly end well for anyone, can it?

Then she said, “Oh, and you're coming to the Spartan tonight.  You can watch how I put together a podcast.”

But... what?  She... did she just?

She said, “Great.  See you at nine.”  Then she purred with all of Na Na's confidence, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go picture all the imaginary sexual favors you performed for me last night.”

I squeaked and felt my cheeks burning.  A really pleasant warmth was spreading from my core as she hung up on me.  I realized I was touching my lips with my fingers and dropped them.  Then took a deep breath.  How could you get aroused just by the sound of someone's teasing voice?

My sunshiny day had just returned.  I couldn't stop my smile as I pocketed my cell and stepped out of the closet to join Armin and Kon for lunch with a skip in my step.

The overall takeaway from that surreal conversation was the huge relief I felt that Nala wasn't mad at me.  For some reason, that would have hurt far worse than the studio being upset with me.

Wait.  My smile faded as I waved at the boys who had a table for us as I went up to the food line and panic started to set in.  I was going to a thrash metal club tonight?  The Spartan?  What was I going to wear? Ahhhhhh!

Chapter 7 – Wretches

I hung up with a huge sense of relief.  I thought that since Karmin saw the real me last night, saw my vulnerability and uncertainty instead of the rock that is Na Na, that she wanted to run far far away.  The call from this Devon ass, well he might not be an ass, he might be a great guy.  I'm just projecting my anger.  It hurt more than I thought possible for losing someone I've known just a day.

Well not really a day, I mean we sort of knew each other before all of this fame.  If only I ever had the guts to talk to her or join the gaming club.  But my mom would have thrown a tizzy.

Karmin had brains, personality, and ethics to spare, and she was so fuckin' cute to top it all off, like a cherry on top.  I envied her success while being true to herself.  I could see why people flocked around her.

So now it was my turn to flip the script on the studio since they seemed so pansy assed that they'd get a black eye from a single article from a non-reputable source.  Poor Devon.  I grinned wickedly as I dialed the number he had given me before I hung up on him.  The studio expected me to be high maintenance and hard to rein in, so that's what the poor boy was about to get.

I took a note Spike offered to me and grinned at the numbers on the paper as Devon answered.  I blurted, “You said you were my fuckin' assistant.  Yet here I am standin' here without a guava-melon smoothie in my hand.  What kind of cut-rate studio are your bosses running?”  I cringed at the thought of a  guava-melon smoothie, eww.

The man replied almost in panic, “But Miss Dupree, you said... I... Umm... I'm on my way. Where are you at right...”

I hung up with a wicked grin, holding the cell to my forehead a moment before turning back to the mass of strangers crowding my office.

I sighed in resignation.  Kat certainly did put in a few calls to contractors all right.  They were all climbing out of the woodwork and clamoring for the renovation contract.  And the architect I chose was looking over the existing blueprints for the place with me as we spoke about what I wanted.

Lord, I actually felt like I really did need a personal assistant if it was this hectic already, and the job hadn't even begun.  I was just glad I had my posse to run interference for me here.  Would it be wrong to use Devon for my personal stuff instead of just for my show?

I exhaled as I pocketed my cell and the note, and stepped up to the architect, Randy Franks, and said, “Now then, where were we?”

***

By the end of the day, I had the start of a migraine.  All the permits and other regulatory bullshit we'd have to go through was going to be a nightmare according to Randy.  And depending on how much structural work had to be done after inspection, I might have to move my office out of the building while the work was done.

Then to top it off, he said the likelihood of the city's historical society getting involved was high since the building held a modicum of historical significance to Seattle.  He offered the notion that it would be much easier, cheaper, and much less red tape if I simply razed the building and put up a new structure like Kat had suggested.

My response, “Not fuckin' likely.  I love this playhouse, and we're going to breathe life back into her again.”

Devon eventually found me.  I tried not to grin when I found he had to go to Karmin and ask where to find me.  I learned that they had put her in the mailroom!  I grinned internally, betting she was running that particular mailroom already.

I ran the poor young man ragged.  I even took a page out of Amber LaLanie's autobiography and had the guy peel some M&Ms for me, just to dump them in the trash in front of him after eating one.

I told him to be back bright and early the next day.  If they were giving him to me full time for just my little once a week segment, then I was going to monopolize his every waking minute until I went to the studio and struck.

I felt bad being such a bitch to him.  Though in the station's eyes he was more of a handler than an assistant, so I didn't feel 'that' bad.  It was the studio my ire was aimed at, he was just one of the tools I was going to be using to press my point when I next contacted them.

Porter did call to discuss possible venues and the possibility of me taking live calls at some of the sessions.  I was open to that to some extent since I love interacting with my fans online.  I noted how carefully she kept from addressing the change of PAs with me, and I didn't bring it up either.  It wasn't the right time yet.  I needed Devon to percolate a bit first.  Besides, I liked Porter, and that would probably change if I found she agreed with the studio.

She needed me for some promo shots on Thursday.  Dear lord, I was going to be on the side of a bus, wasn't I?  I shuddered, but hey, it helped spread my brand.

I looked at the time as I got home.  I'd be able to decompress by working out in the dance studio in about a half hour when Miss Henderson is done with a dance pupil.  Then Mads and Dani said they'd be dropping by for pizza later.

They'll flip when I inform them I told Karmin to meet me tonight at the rave.

Sure, I had to Na Na out to get the balls to do it, but I had.

Whoa, I just realized that I was starting to get a social life.  When the hell had that snuck up on me?  First Madelyn and Dani, now an anime character come to life.

Was it wrong that every time I thought of Karmin, I got a silly smile on my face?

After my distracted workout, where I couldn't get a certain girl out of my thoughts, I called Devon to have him deliver the music from an obscure Russian opera to me.  Oops, at ten tonight, I wouldn't be home, what a shame.  Na Na equals bitch.  Sorry.

Crap.  I had a crush on Kar, didn't I?

I was able to get my head screwed on right after I cleaned up.  I grinned at the sound of the elevator going down to pick someone up.  Yay, they were here.  Besides the landlord; me; the building manager; me; and well, me, only Madelyn and Danielle had the elevator call key.

The smells of baked bread, melted cheese, pepperoni, and sausage preceded them, as the scintillating aroma rose out of the shaft, causing me to salivate.  With the exception of one peeled M&M, I hadn't eaten since breakfast, the day was too hectic to stop for a bite.

I saw their heads rising up through the gates and had to grin as Dani pulled them open.  If I didn't know her, and you asked me on the street what I thought she did for a living, police officer wouldn't have been in the top thousand guesses.  I'd respond with something like a girl's softball coach, or a barista.

The blonde was just too cute and almost preppy looking to be the seasoned beat cop with ice water running through her veins that she was.  Like in the video clip of her tackling a thief at Pike Place market which went viral online.

But you put that uniform on her that she was wearing just then, and dayum.  I admit my eyes drifted to her arms, with their well-toned muscles which rivaled mine as she led her girlfriend, Madelyn, into the loft.

Maddie grinned at me and walked up with the large pie from Sal's and opened it in front of me as she chuckled and said, “Hey now, her eyes are up there.  Those arms are mine.”

I grinned down at the plucky girl who had bright green hair today and took the box from her greedily as I stuck my tongue out at her.

She exhaled, decompressing from her day as she slipped her beret and her hair off, tossing it on a table as she passed on her way into the kitchen.  I smiled at the fact she felt comfortable taking her hair off around me.  She knew she could be herself here.

She rubbed her bald, shiny head with both hands as she dug around in the cupboards for plates.  And inevitably a fork.  She was an odd one, our Mads, she ate her pizza with a fork.  I mean, who does that?  She joined us at the table as Dani brought out a six pack of cola from the bag she was carrying.

I looked at Maddie's fork and said, “Weirdo,” as Dani unbuckled her gun belt and hung it over the back of her chair.

Our bald-headed companion didn't even respond to me. Instead, she looked at her girl and smirked as she said, “This from a girl with a horse's mane on top of her head.”

I slapped her hand away from grabbing the first slice as I exclaimed, “Hey!  For the last time, I don't have a pony fantasy.”  I made a point of showing her how to take a proper bite of pizza while it was in your hand, none of this fork nonsense.

Dani slapped her hand and took the slice she had been going for and stole it with a grin.  She followed my lead causing Maddie to warn her. “Watch it copper, isn't that abuse of power?”

I kicked back with a satisfied grin as I ate, listening to the two of them banter back and forth.  They were such an intriguing match.  Madelyn had a hate on for the police because of family problems, but she loved her own personal cop with a vengeance.  Hey, you can't help who you love.

Through a mouthful of pizza, during a break between their insults, which were starting to get a little sexually charged, I said, “I told Karmin to meet me at the club tonight.”

It was like a needle had been drug across the record as they both silenced and swung their undivided attention to me.  Dani looked interested, and Mads looked ready to burst into puppies and rainbows at any second.

Madelyn chirped with excitement glittering in her eyes, “Be kind, rewind.  The girl from the station you spent the night with?”

I blurted out in defense, “I didn't spend the night with her.  We were just talking.  We used to go to school together.  I texted you the details, wench, don't make me hurt you.”

Danielle made some muffled grunting speech-like sounds in agreement as she stuffed her current slice in her face.  I pointed at her, nodding and challenging Maddie, “What she said, runt.”

The cueball smirked. “You don't speak bacon.  She was pointing out that you're smiling when you protest.”  She took a sip of her cola to hid her own teasing grin.

I muttered as I contemplated my own pizza slice, “This right here is why I should never let anyone up here.”

She shrugged. “We could go, and take our pizza with us.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “By international law, I'd have to seize the cheesy import at the border.”  I made an imperiously dismissive shooing motion with a hand.  “Be gone with you.”

She huffed as Danielle grinned at us. “Fine, I'll behave.” Then she hastily added. “Right after this.  Oooooooooo.”

We moved ourselves and the box with the last two slices to the sitting area and then played the 'Let's ask Nala a Million Questions' game.  I don't like that game.  It is much more fun when someone else is being grilled under the spotlight.

We got Danielle laughing so hard at what I was doing to poor Devon, that she got a bad case of the hiccups.  That only made Mads grin and snuggle in with her on the couch.  For moral support, I'm sure.

Then she said as she traced the six-pack under Dani's shirt, “Don't you need to get ready for your date?”

I sputtered, “It isn't a date.  I figured she'd find it interesting how I go about doing my podcasts.  A professional courtesy.”

Dani laid it all out as she grabbed another slice, dangling it at me as she spoke, “So... she isn't your assistant.  And you asked her to come to a club with you...”

I sighed and muttered, “Fuck.  She thinks it's a date doesn't she?”

The two devil spawn just nodded with cheesy grins plastered on their faces.  Then Madelyn asked, “Why, is that a problem?  I saw her through the window at the Pike the other day, she was terrifyingly cute.”

I grumped out petulantly, “I hate you both.”  Then answered, “No that would actually be pretty cool...”  I qualified as I said, “If I had meant it that way.  Come on, she was one of the popular girls in school.  And me?  I hadn't bloomed into this awesome specimen of majestic womanhood yet.”

This got dubiously raised eyebrows from them.  This is why I love them, they call me on Na Na's bullshit.  They saw my insecurity.  Dani regarded her slice for a moment, took a bite, then offered, “But she said yes?”

I thought on that and admitted, “She didn't say no.”

They both snorted, the wretches.  I flipped them off, and we all shared a smile, then I realized in a panic that Karmin might actually think it was a date.  Rabid turtle farts on a bun, I had to get ready...  “Get out.  I need to get ready for the podcast...”

“Date.”

I blushed. “Shut up Maddie.  As I was saying, I need to get ready for the rave...”

“Date.”

I growled in embarrassment, “Who's side are you on, Dani?”

Officer Smartass stepped up to me and kissed my cheek goodbye as Madelyn put her wig back on, “Always yours, Nal.”

Mads brushed her green locks back over her shoulder and stood on her tiptoes up to kiss my cheek too. “What she said.  Call us with the sordid details of your date.”

I floundered as I defended, “I'm going to work, you know, my job?”

Then I exhaled as Danielle retrieved her gun belt and I walked them to the elevator, “Love ya ladies.  See you later, unless you want to come for moral support?”

They shook their heads, and Dani said as she deftly secured her belt to her waist, “Your idea of music and ours is worlds apart, Nal.  Besides, didn't you just assert that you were going to work?”

We all exchanged smiles and then they were on their way down in the elevator as I turned and looked toward my sleeping area.  What the hell was I going to wear?

Chapter 8 – The Spartan

She had more leather and chains on over her faded black Rippers concert tee than she had teeth in her head.  She went with heavy and black makeup, including an ultra high gloss lipstick.  Na Na was one hot bitch when she wanted to be.  I looked into the mirror to check her hawk, it was tall and proud.

I was about to head out when I smiled slyly and headed back to my dressing area and grabbed the huge heeled black leather platform boots.  They were like my favorites, just taller.  I pulled them up to my thighs, just shy of the bottom of the black mini Na Na wore and buckled the myriad of silver clasps down their length.  Yes, the finishing touch, I'd tower over the anime cutie.

With that finishing touch, I grabbed my bag and headed down, opting for the stairs to give myself a moment to psyche myself up.  When I reached the lobby doors, I looked at the reflection in the glass and the people massing outside.

I stood taller, seeing my reflection change from a girl playing dress-up, to a confident woman who owned her own life and was in total control of her situation.  My resigned look morphed into a sneering smile as I let Na Na take over, her confidence filling me with her fire.

That's right world, I'm Na Na fuckin' Evermore.  I shoved the doors open in a grandiose manner and strode out into the mass of my traveling posse which was exponentially larger than my daily crew.  No less than twenty-five badass and pretty men and women in a similar state of dress as me.  They roared in appreciation as I struck a pose for them, then pap cameras flashed.

I said loudly, “Let's get this fuckin' show on the road, shall we?”

They crowded around me as I headed for the Brandon-mobile.  Giving the paparazzi a show I grabbed Keith's face with one hand and shoved him away, then draped my arms over Spike and Kat's shoulders to drag them along with me.

Spike held the door open for us and I swatted Kat's butt as she slid in before me and then I hopped in.  Spike stepping up onto the door threshold and waved a hand in hand horns as he flicked out his multi-pierced tongue for the pap.

Then he slid into the seat, leaving me sandwiched snugly between the two of them.  I wrapped my arms around their necks and pulled them into me in a rough hug as he shut the door.  Then I let them go and exhaled as I relaxed back into the leather seats knowing the people outside couldn't see through the heavily tinted rear windows.

The others relaxed too now that the show was over, knowing we'd have to perform again when we reached the Spartan.  Because someone had given the pap an anonymous tip as to where I'd be podcasting tonight.  I made sure to give them plenty of time to get extra photographers at my place and the Spartan before we left when I sent in that tip.  Hey, marketing is my thing, ok?

I asked, “So how's everyone tonight?”

Brandon held up a thumb as he drove. Bethany gave me a silly wave from the passenger seat. Kat did the same as she buried her face in her cell as she posted to social media sites about our 'wild' ride in.  Likely alluding to drinking and making out with me like normal, without really coming out and saying it.  Spike just gave me a grin.  I swear one day the dam is going to burst, and all the words are going to fall out of the man, and we won't be able to shut him up.  Not with all the duct tape in the world.

I smiled as I realized that maybe my core crew here was more than just business acquaintances for me.  Were they actually becoming my friends?  Well, we were already friends to an extent, they've seen me unguarded, but not completely, at my office and in the car.  The question was, would I trust them to see the real me, devoid of Na Na at my home?  Would I ever let them in that close to me?

The answer was a resounding and indecisive, 'I don't know.'  Maybe one day.  They were, after all, only around me to ride on the coattails of my local fame.  Right?

Beth and Kat called out the mentions and pics already surfacing from the start of our outing.  Good, it sounded like a good sampling.  I had to make sure the saturation level of coverage was moderate, not heavy.

There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.  Oversaturation has a tendency to desensitize your target market.  Like when a popular song is played on the radio every five seconds, and you eventually get sick of it and move on.  So it was a real balancing act.

God, I'm a product.  I lifted a finger to chew on as I thought about that.  I had maybe another five good years before Na Na would have to move from the spotlight as my youth faded.  I know thirty isn’t old in any way, but people want their idols to be these pretty, young people.  Not someone holding on to their glory days.

I may retire Na Na sooner, when she is at the top of her game, if I can get the Empire renovated and turned into a destination.  The Evermore brand is a powerhouse, and between the eCommerce, property investments, and the Empire, I'd be set for life.  Then maybe I could just be Nala Dupree again?

As we arrived at our destination, Brandon said, “Shield's up.”

There was the usual line of people at the doors of the Spartan with the added bonus of a few paparazzi and even an E-Nation van.  I'm sure Chuck, the owner of the Spartan appreciated the free notoriety his club got when I worked him into the rotation of both underground and legit music venues in the city.

The one thing I actually loved about my job was the chance to shine a spotlight on deserving artists as I gave them the Evermore stamp of approval.  He stopped the SUV with our caravan of over ten vehicles strung out behind us, at the main doors of the utilitarian warehouse the Spartan had moved into, across the way from the Ballyhoo Club.

I glanced across the street to the twice as crowded, neon wonderland, that was Seattle's elite lesbian nightclub.  Damn, the lines get longer and longer there every time I saw it.  I keep meaning to talk with the owner, Bonnie, about the possibility of opening a second location on the opposite side of town.  Maybe co-branding or something.

Brandon went to get out, and I asked the car, looking around, “We're friends right?”

They all paused, and the car was silent for a moment as I saw them all understanding what I was really asking.  I was asking if we were more than just acquaintances who had similar goals.

Brandon spoke first.  “If you asked that when we first met, I'd probably had said no.  I mean, I know I was just latching onto your celebrity for something to do.  We were friendly, sure.  But now?  I like to think we've moved past that superficial symbiosis.  So yeah.”

The girls were nodding their agreement with his assessment.  Then I was floored when Spike actually spoke up, “I was under the impression that as a collective, we were all friends here, carrying the weight of the implications and proprieties carried along with such an unspoken social contract.  Invariably when a group of individuals occupies the same space for a prolonged period of time, connections are formed which carry with them, implicit communal ramifications and emotional attachments.”

I blurted out through a huge smile, “Holy fuck!  Spike's a friggin' brainiac!”

We all shared a chuckle, and the pierced, tattooed, and spiky haired man blushed and offered, “Orville.”

I shook his hand enthusiastically. “Pleased to meet you, Orville.  Nala.”

He grinned and went back to his silent but reassuring presence.  I drew on Na Na and sat tall, pulling her armor around me.  I looked around at my... friends, and said, “Let's get to it then, mahy bitches!  Let's take these suckers down!”

They put on their game faces, with the hints of smiles showing, and we disembarked from the SS Brandon.

There were flashes blinding us, and microphones being shoved in our faces as the bouncers pushed people away.  Lord, you would have thought a real celebrity had arrived.  I snorted when I saw a news camera from KVRL next to the E-Nation camera crew.  I shoved my face in the camera, hung my tongue out and shook my head side to side when I passed them.

One girl in line, who had one-half her head shaved bald, and as many face piercings as Spike, actually squeed when I walked past.  I bit back a huge smile as I took a step backward and pointed at her with a nodding grin, then headed inside as she grabbed two guys in line with her and virtually vibrated with excitement while pointing at me and squealing.

My mother would be rolling over in her grave... if she were dead.  I had groupies.  That fact still struck me as so surreal.  They all saw what I wanted them to see, when really I'd rather be curled up at home under a blanket with hot chocolate as I read some Jules Verne.

The boys had their own cameras going as we progressed.  Brandon walking as he pointed suggestively at various girls as we moved through the crowd.  I cocked an eyebrow when he also nodded at a guy that had a hairstyle similar to Spike's, giving the man the same suggestive smile.  Interesting, am I learning something new about Brandon here?

He saw my attention on him, and he rolled his eyes and slugged my shoulder.  I slugged him back, causing him to almost fall over.  Oops.  I gave him a toothy grin as he mouthed with a grin of his own, “Bitch.”

I chuckled as I made my way to the fringes of the mosh pit by the stage, as the opening act finished a cover of Hammish Stone's, Freaked.  I started to angle a bit so that the boys would get the stage in the background as the headliner band, Steel Kissed, started to take the stage.

They were the reason I was there that night, well actually for their lead singer and guitarist Pria Steadson.  Not only did she have great pitch control even when she was virtually screaming, but the woman could shred on her axe.  Which was doubly awesome because just like her self-proclaimed hero, Mei Hammond from the Purple Horseshoes in London, Pria only had one arm.

She lost her left arm in a car wreck years back and thought her chances of a music career were gone.  But after seeing Mei playing, she learned fingerstyle like Mei, and is now one of my favorite thrash acts.  I pushed Chuck, to let her headline here tonight.  It will be her first venture out of the underground scene and into a legit gig.

I saw her gearing up, so I did a couple test lines, yelling over the crowd as the guys gave me a thumbs up as I pushed a couple people away who were crowding me as people started crowding around us.  My posse was moving around, giving me a buffer zone.  In these boots, I towered over most of the guys here too, so I got a good view of the work my crew was doing.

I started headbanging when the drums started and thrashing side to side, feeling my braided hair under my shirt sliding around, wanting release.  I yelled to the cameras. “Welcome to another Evermore Plain Truth! Where I offer no bullshit, just...”

The people closest to us and my posse all yelled out, “...the plain truth!”

I nudged a thumb back and said, “Tonight I wanted to showcase the... musical... stylings...”  I trailed off, my mouth hanging open as a small figure made her way through the crowd toward me.  My crew moved in front of her to keep my space clear.  I made a cutting motion across my neck to the cameras then told my people, “Let her through.”

They separated, giving me a clear view of the overly cute and sexy woman dressed in black leathers head to toe, over a shirt with a plunging neckline, showing a tantalizing teasing amount of cleavage.  My heart was racing as I blinked dumbly at the leather goddess in front of me, with her dark makeup and mirrored glasses.

I realized Karmin was dressed as Major, from Ghost In the Shell, and it was doing all kinds of interesting things to me as I felt a fire burning deep inside my core, radiating out to warm other interesting parts of me.  Holy fuck on toast with jam, she was...

Shit... I realized how I must have looked just gawking there, stunned and drooling, and stood straighter, pulling on Na Na.  I wrapped myself in her cloak of cocky self-assurance as I gave the shy looking girl, who was so out of place in a club like this, what I hoped was a winning smile.  She looked down at her hands which she had clasped at her waist.

I took two long strides up to her and reached out to take both of her hands, pulling her back to my filming spot.  I grinned down at her, she looked so much smaller when I had these boots on.  She gave a sheepish smile, her face toward me.  I couldn't see her eyes, which I so very much wanted to see just then.  So I reached out and slid her glasses carefully off to reveal those glittering hazel eyes which looked to have stars twinkling in their depths.

She was breathtaking, I wonder if she knew that?

I lowered my lips to her ear and whispered with a crooked smile, “Major?  Really?”

She blushed profusely as she nodded. “It was the only thing I had that would even remotely work here.  To blend in.”

I purred out, almost lustily, before I could stop Na Na, “And you certainly work it well.”  What the turtle stacking hell, Nala?!  But she did look good.

I recovered. “Why blend in when you were born to stand out?”

We stood there looking at each other as Pria went into a thrashing guitar solo.  Oh.  Umm... “Want to see how we do a podcast?  It isn't as glamorous as your news crews, but...”

The heat between us was threatening to melt the heels of my boots.

She swallowed, nodded enthusiastically, and I straightened.  She gave a thumbs up and said, “Do your best!”

With a cheering squad like that, I would, and I did.  Though I was a little distracted by a certain walking anime queen, who was nothing but beaming smiles as I shared with the music world why Steel Kissed was worthy of notice by the music world.

When I was done and made sure the guys got a good shot of Pria on stage, I dropped my catch phrase for this particular podcast.  “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna watch the rest of this performance, so this is Na Na Evermore signing off, I offer no bullshit, just...”  Everyone around me roared out, with a certain adorable short one adding her voice, “The plain truth!”

Then I only had eyes for Major.

Chapter 9 – What Just Happened?

I was so nervous getting ready to go watch Nala do her podcast at the Spartan.  Was this a business thing or was it... something else?  I blushed at the possibility.  The punk scene wasn't really my thing, so I didn't have anything remotely suitable to wear to it.  Kuso!  I could either do just jeans and a tee, or something black.

I had looked at the only two possibilities in my closet.  There was no way I would wear the Kira dress from Maid Assassin.  I'd be eaten alive.  My hand hesitated as I reached forward to the only other outfit.  The jeans and t-shirt were looking better by the second as my hand closed on the cool black leather.  Major it was.

After getting ready I looked into the mirror and shook my head.  This wasn't going to fly where I was going, and it was too late to change.  It would be an insult to cancel this soon to her podcast.  I glanced around and smiled at the mirrored shades on my dresser.  Ah, yes, if nobody could see my terrified eyes, I could fake it.  Right?

I put them on and sighed.  They didn't help one iota.  I always look like a little girl playing dress up.  And I have always been proud of the look, until just then.  I'd be like chum in the water in a pool of sharks.  The glasses gave me a cool factor though, right?

I said, right?  Fine, whatever, just laugh it up.

My nerves were getting the better of me as I drove to the club.  I was obsessing over that same  question about if this was business or umm... not business.  I wasn't her personal assistant anymore after all.  She had hung up before I had the chance to ask or even agree.  She had texted a bit later that she would leave my name at the door.

Curiosity was killing me either way though, as I really did want to see her do her thing live.  When I got back to the states and discovered the local celebrity called Na Na Evermore who looked unmistakably like an old crush of mine, I followed her blog and podcasts out of nostalgia.  I had always wondered if they were a big production like the news broadcasts or if they were as spontaneous and unrehearsed as she made them look.

She has this easy way with the camera, pulling you in and talking to you like you were old friends. Engaging you and making whatever she was sharing sound earnest, entertaining, and down right interesting.

I found a parking spot in the middle of the well lit lot.  It was three-quarters full, not nearly as full and overflowing as the Ballyhoo across the street.

I paused to look at the line of women around that neon paradise.  I keep meaning to visit the Ballyhoo.  I was too young to go there before I left to Japan, and it has been on the top of my to-do list since I returned.  It has the reputation of being the hottest lesbian dance club on the west coast.

I've been running myself ragged, trying to prove myself to the parent station since I came back, so haven't had the occasion to visit.  That and if I'm to be truthful, I'm a little too nervous to go.  I've never really felt comfortable going to bars or other hookup places.

Though I have had a few short-lived relationships that started at an anime or comic book convention or two, which burned hot and fast before fizzling.  Hey, I'm human ok?  I wiped the grin off my face from the memories as I walked past all the hardcore rockers and people from the punk scene as I headed straight to the door, past the line.

I'd normally show my press credentials to get into most places when the camera crew was shooting.  This would be the first time my name was actually at the door anywhere.  I endured the catcalls and wolf whistles and a few crude remarks as I passed by.  I had to bite my tongue to stop a grin when one woman with pink stubbly hair slapped the back of her apparent boyfriend's head when he said something crude to me.  She hissed at him, “What the fuck's wrong with you?”

I got to the door and the big bouncer manning the door with a clipboard, and bare arms with huge muscles which had bomb's tattooed on his biceps, looked down at me.  He had half a dozen piercings on his brows and a shiny bald head.  His brow was furrowed in a bit of concern as he glanced around quickly.

Then he bent down to me and asked under his breath, “This isn't the best place for someone like you to be hangin' around lil' darlin'.  I think you want to be across the way there.”  He nudged his clipboard toward the Ballyhoo.  And the first couple guys in line with their heavy black makeup and ebony dyed hair made some crude noises, and one said, “Yeah, you'd feel more comfortable in the back seat of my car, baby.”

The doorman stood tall at that, towering over me, looming like a juggernaut as his eyes darkened and he jabbed his clipboard at the two.  His voice was full of growling menace as he snapped out, “You and you.  Off the premises.  You're not getting in tonight.  You give the rest of us a bad name, the Spartan has standards.”

Then he looked up at the line as he kicked one of the quickly retreating men in the butt.  “That goes for everyone!  Do I make myself clear?”  There were fearful murmurs.  They had the good sense to fear a man the size of Mount Fuji.

He looked back down at me, and the giant man softened.  I shrugged and told him, “Nala... I mean, Na Na Evermore said my name would be at the door.  Karmin Hughes.”

He blinked in shock and looked at me again then shrugged as he looked at the list.  “You're with Na Na?”  He looked impressed for a moment, then furrowed his brow.  “I don't see your name on the list, would she have used another?”

I started to shake my head then froze.  She wouldn't... would she?  I whispered to him, and he leaned in close, then said to me, “What was that darlin'?  I didn't catch that.”

I sighed and looked back, at the line, my cheeks burning before I turned back and asked louder, “Is there a Kitty K-Hue on the list?”

This got some chuckles from the crowd, and the big man double checked and gave me a big grin and nod in the affirmative.

He made an ushering motion and said with a genuine smile which belied the terrifyingly imposing stature of the man, “Go right in darlin'.  If you get into any trouble in there, just call for Byron, and I'll come a runnin'.”

I smiled and nodded at him and offered a hand, his giant paw engulfed mine as I said, “Karmin.  Not Kitty.”  He nodded and then let me go.  A moment later a girl with slicked back hair, wearing torn black clothes and chains, and a guy in matching gear were on either side of me, their arms around my waist in an almost possessive manner.

I blinked in surprise as the girl called out to a dubious looking Byron, “We're with Kitty here.”

Byron narrowed his eyes and looked at me as the woman hugged me closer, fluttering her eyes which were heavily accented with dark eyeliner.  I shrugged and said, “Yes, they are with me.”  He wasn't buying it, but he grinned and shooed us in with a nudge of his chin.  I liked the big man.

As soon as we entered into a wall of sound inside, the couple released me, and the woman laughed wickedly and yelled out to me, “Rayna and Rick.  Thanks, short stuff!”  Then she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and a wink.

I gave a self-conscious little wave and said “Karmin,” before she grabbed her guy's hand and dragged him away and into the chaos of a punk rave.

She called back, “See you around.”

I giggled.  I had just helped someone crash the gate.  It felt bad in a good way.  Then I looked around at the throng of rough looking characters all around me and my smugness faded.  Then I chidingly reminded myself not to judge a book by its cover.  I had already met three punkers tonight whom I liked.  Byron, and my renegade kisser and her boy.  And somewhere in this mass of bodies, was an overly sexy punker who was waiting on me.

Come on, this is business.  You outgrew this crush almost a decade ago, Karmin.  Yes, keep telling yourself that, baka.

I couldn't see a thing through the throng of bodies as a number finished and the crowd whooped and whistled in response.  They were more raucous than the crowds at any other club or concert I have attended.  It seemed that the culture in this club was more emotional and volatile.  Like they fed off the energy of the room and each other.

It all seemed a little more honest to me than gatherings in other venues.  But then again, isn't that the whole concept behind the punk community?  Freedom of self-expression.  A chance to just... be.  There were actually a few groups in Japanese culture that shared those fundamental beliefs.

I admit to thinking that only rebellious and borderline violent individuals embraced the punk rock culture.  But in this new light... is this why Nala chose to recreate herself in this world?  So she could express her inner self that she had to keep locked up for so long, under the totalitarian thumb of her mother?

Huh...

I excused me and pardoned me through the crowd.  Most didn't hear as the next act was setting up on stage.  Then I saw a bubble cleared away in the middle of the throng of bodies.  I recognized a couple of Nala's posse who were keeping a space clear and I bit the tip of my tongue and smiled when I saw Nala in the middle of it all.

She was in full on Na Na mode, oozing charisma and confidence like a bonfire in the night that just drew me in.  Her heat kept most people at arm's length as the guys aimed cameras at her, and those who got too close to the fire of hers, she shoved away bodily like she was a force of nature herself.

I was at a loss.  My legs had forgotten how to move me forward as I stared at her in her element.  She had tamed herself so much for the Seattle Evermore segment with her mocking reporter outfit.  But here... Nala was not in the house, there in front of me was Na Na Evermore in all her glory, and she burned with the intensity of the sun.  So wicked and so very desirable, with this touch of vulnerable cuteness that has made her a name in the industry.

Can you truly be struck dumb with awe?  I was pretty sure you could as I watched her.  She towered over most of the people around her, in her almost all black outfit.  And those boots... I was feeling light headed.  Oh crap, air! Breath in, breath out.  I think that's how it is done.

Her hair was like a mane of black fire that seemed to swallow the light, and it moved like it had a mind of its own, towering above her, watching like some dark wraith, ready to strike.  I knew what she hid beneath her collar, the tail of that magnificent mane.

I got control of my legs again when the hard driving music started up, and she started headbanging with the drums, I was being pulled forward, entranced by her hair thrashing side to side.  My pulse was quickening, and I felt a fire inside that didn't want to be quenched, as my eyes refused to leave her.

My smile grew to a huge toothy grin as I heard her yelling into the cameras, “Welcome to another Evermore Plain Truth! Where I offer no bullshit, just...”

The people all around her, including me, all yelled out, “...the plain truth!”

She had that awesome self-assured, cocky smirk on her face as she nudged a thumb back and said, “Tonight I wanted to showcase the... musical... stylings...”

I froze as she trailed off when I realized her eyes were locked on me.  She looked stunned, her mouth half open.  She hesitated, a flicker of self-doubt crossed her face as I regained my motor control and started toward her as that shock was replaced with what I could only describe as hunger.

Like a pack of predators on the hunt, people moved between us, blocking my progress.  Nala made a cutting motion across her neck, and the guys lowered their cameras as she called out, “Let her through.”

They parted, and I was feeling suddenly self-conscious.  I still didn't know why I was here.  Was it really to watch her do a podcast in her element.  Was it as a friend?  Was it something else?

She took two smooth steps up to me, and she took my hands which I was wringing at my waist, into hers, and she pulled me back to where she had been doing her podcast.  Heat spread through me from our point of contact.  Chibi me was throwing buckets of water on the flame inside to keep it under control before it singed her little cat ears.

Nala grinned at me then furrowed her brow.  I froze yet again when she reached for my face with both hands, and she removed my mirrored glasses.  I couldn't decipher the look she gave me, but I liked it.  A lot.

She lowered her head beside mine and whispered, “Major?  Really?”  Her hot breath causing a thrill to run across my skin and down my spine in a delicious way.

I nodded, not knowing what to say, so offered meekly, “It was the only thing I had that would even remotely work here.  To blend in.”

She had the seductive growl of a jungle cat in her voice as she said with a smirk, “And you certainly work it well.”

Oh lord, if she was a jungle cat, I suddenly felt like a rabbit.  It was almost as she found me... desirable.

Then she grinned and stood taller as she asserted, “Why blend in when you were born to stand out?”

I was lost in her eyes, they held so much in them.  Pain, hope, strength, and a fire that burned into me.  When the woman on the stage started really shredding on her guitar, the moment was broken.  I knew the ebony maned woman in front of me felt the same as she seemed to sigh and ask over the music, “Want to see how we do a podcast?  It isn't as glamorous as your news crews, but...”

There was still that unmistakable heat between us, and I swallowed from the intensity of it.  I gave her two thumbs up and encouraged her. “Do your best!”

She gave me that cocky smirk which she had carefully crafted just as much as the rest of her look, but it held something... else.  Then I leaned back and grinned as she articulated in ways I wouldn't have thought of, just why the woman on stage, Pria, and her band, Steel Kissed needed the music world to sit up and take notice.  I actually learned some interesting things about Punk and what she called Thrash Metal.

When she wound it down, she stepped aside, motioning her hand toward the stage and the two cameramen stepped up to get some footage of Pria on stage.

My grin was making my cheeks ache it was so big. Nala stuck her face in one camera, made a silly face that almost crossed into the adorable threshold and called out, “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna watch the rest of this performance, so this is Na Na Evermore signing off, I offer no bullshit, just...”

My eyes widened in excitement, and I yelled out with her and everyone around us, “The plain truth!”  I wanted to giggle for some reason when she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

Then she laid an arm across my shoulders and pulled me almost possessively to her side.  I was trying not to hyperventilate as I felt the heat of her body against mine and I caught a hint of that baby powder and leather conditioner scent that followed her everywhere she went.

She waved a hand around lackadaisically and called out to her posse, “Go forth mingle and prosper!”  They all grinned and moved off, banging their heads to the next number from Steel Kissed's arsenal.  I admit, punk is not my genre, but just from the things she said about it on camera, I had a new appreciation for it and sort of liked the driving music.

The next half hour was spent just talking over at one of the standing tables by the bar.  That was odd, I couldn't see a single chair in the place, and the tables appeared to be bolted to the floor.  She seemed intent on telling me about the post work that Spike would do on the raw footage they shot and how he'd have the podcast up before the sun came up.

She was almost babbling like she was unsure of herself and so was trying to be all business instead of addressing that searing heat between us from earlier which she had to have felt too.  This was Nala now, not Na Na, and that made me smile that I could somehow make her just as nervous and self conscious as I was feeling around her.

I finally gathered up the nerve to attempt to ask what tonight was really about, when a guy with short stubbly pink hair, and a chain hanging from a nostril that connected to a piercing through his cheek, laid a hand roughly on my shoulder. “The fuck is a poser like you doin' here?”

I didn't even see her move.  One moment Nala was on the opposite side of the table as me, the next moment she seemed to be stepping past the man.  It was so fluid I almost missed it as she had pulled his leather vest up over his head from behind, covering his face and then she pulled back once, jerking him away from me just to trip backward over a foot she had planted behind him.

She called down to him as the music intensified as if the band saw what was happening and was drawing on and amplifying the chaos, “You shouldn't have touched my friend.  Just walk away now.”

Then I knew why the tables were bolted down, and there were no chairs, as everyone around us started roaring and cheering as they backed off a bit.  Pink Fuzz got up, stripping his vest off and throwing it roughly on the ground, roaring out, “You fuckin...”

He trailed off when he grabbed a nearby table and tried to yank it toward Nala, who was standing in a knife stance like I had seen at many dojos in Japan and more recently in that amazing kata dance she performed in the dance studio.  That stance offered little target for an attack.

When the table didn't budge, the guy just roared out in exasperation, balled his fists, then came at her.  I was terrified, but the crowd seemed energized by the altercation.  He swung at her, but she slapped it aside and slid in under his overextended arm, getting his arm in some sort of reverse armlock in the crook of her own arm, bending his arm back toward himself.

Then she shoved his hand twice, causing him to hit himself in the face, and she slid away and into a new stance.  I realized she was keeping herself between him and me.

He touched his face and pulled his hand away to look at the blood on it from a nose which was clearly crookedly broken now.  He growled, “I don't care who you are, Evermore.  I'm going to kick your ass into next week for this.”

He hesitated when I felt as if the world closed in on us a bit.  I glanced around and recognized the men and woman of Nala's posse all looming in close, stepping through the invisible ring the other punkers had made around us.

He sneered and spat out, “Sure, call in the calvary, bitch.  Let them fight your fights for you.”

She shook her head and made a beckoning motion with her fingers.  “They're just here to clean up the mess you make of yourself.  You're the one fighting here, I haven't even started.”

He charged, swinging fists at empty air as she started to literally dance around him.  He kicked at her, but she wasn't there. He bellowed in pain as his leg instead hit the table behind her.  Then he tried to grapple, but she spun past and almost humorously made a show of pushing his back with one finger.  It added just enough to his own momentum to overbalance him and send him tumbling into a column, face first with a hollow sounding thud.

My terror was turning into an almost morbid amusement.  Pink Fuzz was bleeding and limping with a little hop as he stood.  Nala was right, she hadn't even hit him once, he was doing all the damage to himself...  with a little help from her of course.

But then everyone stopped when a huge shadow stepped up behind Nala.  She froze and didn't look back as she squinted one eye in mock pain as she just said, “Ummm... hi Byron, how's tricks?”

The big man looked between her back and me and exhaled in resignation and told her as he stepped past her to grab the other guy's wrist as he tried to lunge at her, “You know the rules Na Na.”

She nodded as the other guy winced in pain and went to a knee just from the pressure of Byron's grip.  I can imagine it was like the iron vice it appeared.

Nala said, “Yeah, sorry Byron.  Heading out now.”  She smirked and kissed him on the cheek.

He nodded, then gave me a two finger salute and apologetic smile, then started dragging the limping man off toward the back doors.  It was all Pink Fuzz could do to keep up with the long strides of the mountain of a man.

Nala stepped up to me, asking, “You ok?”  I started nodding dumbly as she looked around then grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the front doors.  “I got a forty-eight-hour timeout here now.  No fighting inside.  Happens all the time.  So we have to go.”

Oh...

She turned to her crew as they started to follow and told them over the crowd cheering as the song ended.  “You guys stay, have fun.  I'll find my own way home.”  She gave my hand a little squeeze at that.  My chibi alternate self held up a sign as she giggled, which read, “That would be you.”

They looked conflicted but when the one she called Spike grinned and turned back to the music that was starting up again. The rest followed suit.

She pulled me outside and past a different man at the door, who wasn't half as imposing as Byron.  A girl in line squealed and started pointing when she saw Nala.  Causing my escort to drag me the other way until we were away from the line.

Then she chuckled and looked down at me, not letting go of my hand.  “Sorry bout that, I should have thought before inviting you here.”  Then she bit her lower lip and looked across the street.

Before I could say a word or ask any questions, she was leading me through the parking lot toward the road as she said, “I owe you a night of dancing and fun instead of watching some guy beating the shit out of himself.”

I blinked twice, not finding my voice as I started blushing profusely and smiling.  Nala was bringing me to the Ballyhoo!

Chapter 10 – The Ballyhoo

Oh god, Karmin probably felt how sweaty my hand was in hers.  I was as nervous as hell.  How did people go about telling someone they were into them?  It was nerve wracking.  Knowing me, if I tried, I'd just start babbling about podcast production again like I had just a few minutes ago.

Then I go and make an ass out of myself by overreacting with that asshole in the Spartan.  But... he laid a hand on her.  He had no right.  To my chagrin, I did get a bit of a rush out of making a fool of him.  Nobody calls Kar a poser.

I kept looking at her, and she just kept grinning at me.  Was she daring me to try to speak to her like a real person?  I looked away and tried to hide my grin as we crossed the street.  This would be a new experience for me, as Na Na Evermore will look just as out of place at the Ballyhoo as the short, and sexy anime cosplayer looked at the Spartan.

I dragged her toward the end of the line, which was wrapped half way around the building.  She cocked an eyebrow, and I had to ask, feeling self-conscious, so acted cocky, “What?”

She tilted her head down and lowered her eyes, letting her time in Japan show through again as she said, “Nothing, I just thought you were going to use your celebrity to... never mind.”

I'm sure the look on my face was half sheepish embarrassment, half smirk, as I said, “I'm not sure I'm the type of celebrity that they want here.  Though I do know the owner, Bonnie.  We have a couple mutual acquaintances, like our webmaster, Reese Qualls from Qualltech.  She and Crystal introduced us when she was showing me the kind of online presence she could help generate with my brand.  The Ballyhoo has similar goals in some areas.”

What I didn't share was that when she said Reese's name, I felt a pang of panic.  I was happy to find out what an amazing person Reese was, and that her wheelchair didn't seem to slow her down one bit.

She then narrowed her eyes and accused, nudging her chin back at the Spartan, “And, Kitty K-Hue?  Really?”

I parried her fierce look with my wiggling eyebrows.  I thought it was inspired of me to leave that name at the door.  I'd have loved to see the look on her face when she found out.

We stopped at the end of the line, and I tried not to look around.  The women in line and even the lone guy we saw were all gorgeous.  Bonnie's club definitely catered to the lipstick side of the lesbian spectrum.  I tried not to smile smugly when I saw Kar trying so very hard not to look around too.

Three girls turned to look at us, and a cute girl with an ebony complexion, in a preppy and trendy pastel clubbing dress that looked to be painted onto her decidedly feminine curves, said with a smile, “Wow, nice look!  You're totally rocking the Evermore.”

I smiled and put my hand over Karmin's mouth before she told them, pulling her into me.  They called my look the Evermore?  Frosted lizard lips on toast, maybe this whole branding thing was working if even those not in the demographic I was targeting recognized it.

I had to let go of Karmin when the little rat licked my palm.  She gave a triumphant grin as I wiped my hand on my hip and she stuck out her tongue as she pulled down a lower eyelid.

The other girls giggled at her antics as the vocal one of their group eyed her with a little bit of hunger that made me feel an odd twinge of jealousy inside.  “And your girl is adorable.”

The club girl straightened up and offered a hand to us, as Karmin busied herself with the marathon blushing session she had going on, which made me want to just hug her and spin her side to side.  “Megan.  And this is Tammy and Rhonda.”

I hesitated and then gave an apologetic look as I offered as I shook her hand, “This is Karmin, and I'm... Na Na.”

It was like a two-second disconnect as she just looked at me, processing the words.  I saw the realization, and then slight embarrassment flash on her face as she recovered smoothly and pointed out, “That would explain why you rock the look so well.”  Then she looked at Kar and said, “Dayum girl, great fishing skills.  What'd you use for bait?”

Karmin was at a loss as I grinned widely, happy the spotlight had moved off of me.  She just blushed and buried her face in my arm as she grasped it with both hands.  The smile that slowly spread on Megan's face was priceless as she started nodding in understanding of something that was beyond me and said to my mini companion, “A'ight, I see it.”

Then she looked between us and the line and a glint of mischief filled her eyes as our paparazzi shadows started making a nuisance of themselves with their cameras as they showed up.  She reached out and grabbed our hands as she started pulling us out of lines, “You two are now our best friends ever, the Bal-line-hoo endless wait just got shorter.”

Tammy and Rhonda squeaked and hurried after us.  It was easy to see who the ringleader of their group was, and the looks the blonde, Rhonda, was giving our hands in Megan's, spoke volumes of unrequited love.  I understood completely.  I reached out with my other hand and pulled her up to take my place, putting her hand in Megan's, then I slid to Karmin's other side.

I felt like a giant.  Like Gulliver in a land of Lilliputians.  With the exception of a girl or two in the long line, I towered over them all in my boots.  Some were staring at me because of that and some because of the look of recognition in their eyes.  I hadn't thought so many in this lot would have had a clue who I was... I was wrong it seems.

As we approached the big middle-aged woman sitting on the stool at the door, what was her name?  Mindi?  No Minnie. She sat up and looked directly at me as our group crowded around her.  Megan said like she did it all the time, “We're with her.”  She nudged her chin over.

I shook my head slightly at Minnie and then added, “Yeah, we're with her.”  I placed my hands on Kar's shoulders, and she looked back in panic at me.

Minnie smiled widely and said in her smoker's voice as she inclined her head to our little Major and said, “Well if you're with her, why didn't you all just say so?”  She looked away from Karmin and gave me a quick wink and said, “Go on in.”

Her hand shot up faster than lightning as she pointed behind us at the people in line who had started complaining.  Everyone fell instantly silent at the look she gave which promised pain.  I had to admit, Bonnie picked her door-woman well.

She nudged her head toward the doors and said to Karmin, “Skedaddle, take your crew on in, cutie.”

Karmin bowed her head and said without thinking, “Hai. Arigatou gozaimasu.”

She was about to correct herself to thank her in English when Minnie surprised us by responding with, “Douitashimashite.”  Ok, if I didn't have this huge crush on the Major there, I would have been in love with Minnie.  She must have picked up a bit of Japanese when she was in the military, stationed in Okinawa back when we were just getting out of diapers.

Karmin blushed again, and we hurried into the club with our apparent new best friends ever.  I reached back behind me as we passed Minnie and we exchanged a finger wiggling palm brush of a five.

Megan thanked us, and with her friends in tow, just bled into the crowd which made the Spartan's look minuscule in comparison.  It was a veritable sea of women.  I had never seen it when they were open, and this was incredible.  I started laughing in delighted mirth when Karmin yelled over the music with sarcasm worthy of me, “Shortest friendship ever.”

She seemed impishly pleased with herself, and I grabbed her hand and started towing her toward the tables ringing the dance floor.  I stutter-stepped a bit realizing that I really didn't care much for touching people.  Maybe because so many wanted to paw at Na Na.  It took a while for me to get used to the hugs that Maddie handed out to me all the time.

But here I was, grabbing Karmin's hand as much as I could tonight.  It felt natural to me.  And her small hand was as hot as the sun and caused a warmth to spread up my arm and warm my belly.  I had it bad, didn't I?  I was sort of relieved that I could still have crushes like this.  My life had been all work and no play since college.

I held a chair for a girl who was leaving with her friends, she shot me a shocked then hungry look as she stumbled off with her girls.  I glared at others who were coveting the table, circling like vultures, as I continued to hold the chair so Kar could slide bashfully in.

Achievement unlocked!  Table secured at the Ballyhoo!  I'm pretty sure that ranked up there on the legendary scale somewhere.

I caught Karmin's scent as I stepped away, with its intriguing hints of tea and kiwi.  Was it wrong I wanted to bury my nose in her hair and inhale to confirm it?

I sat across from her and then called out over the live pop band.  I secretly loved some pop as much as punk.  Punk had this honesty about it, where emotions were played out through the music and the vocals.  Conversely, pop usually tried to evoke emotions instead of displaying them, that was the difference between the two types of music.  With some notable exceptions of course.  It was those exceptions that I loved.  Just don't tell my crew that I sing along with J8, or Conrad Chase, they'd tease me into next week.

A waitress stopped at the table before I could start a conversation with the short leather-clad woman who was looking around like she was in a wonderland, trying to take everything in at once.  It was her element I could tell.  I have to admit, it wanted to look around too.  It was so different when the club was open, instead of a cavernous empty space during the day.  At night it became a seething sea of writing bodies and neon lights.

I glanced back at the door and grinned at seeing Minnie in an animated argument with the paparazzi who tried to follow.  The idiots.  Everyone knows that on the rare occasion a male is allowed in the club, he had to be accompanied by and vouched for by a woman.  If they cause any problems or hit on any of the patrons on premises, they are kicked out, and the woman who brought them was banned.  Bonnie was pretty damn strict about that rule.

It made a safe place for lesbian woman to congregate.  Well safer place that is, as there are plenty of predatory women out there too, just not close to as many as there are men.

I turned my attention back to the redheaded, shapely waitress, as she asked Karmin, “What can I get for you hon?”

She looked around at the other tables, then looked almost embarrassed as she asked, “Cola?”  That she didn't want to drink made me smile and wonder if she just didn't imbibe in the consumption of alcohol like me or if it was so she could drive home?  Either way, I appreciated it.

The woman turned to me, and I could see the schooled look of a trained professional as I saw the recognition in her eyes, but she showed no other outward indication of it, “And you hon?”

I looked at Karmin who seemed far too interested in my answer.  So I Na Na'ed it up, playing into everyone's expectations.  “I'll take a tall tankard of your best beer.”  After a pause, I continued. “Heavy on the root.”

Kar grinned and the woman smirked as she typed something on the iPad she carried, and said, “Ok ladies, a cola, and a root beer coming up.”

When the server left, my mini-obsession said over the music, “You didn't have to order that for me.  You can be yourself, Nala.”

I cocked an eyebrow and then chuckled as she studied me, she was trying to figure out where Na Na ended and Nala began.  Good luck with that short little temptress, I don't even know where that line is anymore.  I replied with a grin, “I know it sounds counter-intuitive to the culture and crowds I run in, but I don't drink, won't drink.”

She cocked her head, and regarded me, her brow furrowed.  I had to stop from uttering a “Daww,” since it looked so cute on her.

Then she asked, “Why's that?  I just don't like the taste of alcohol, especially since my co-workers in Japan got me sick on sake to introduce me to the country.  Never again.”

I shrugged, hesitated, then found myself telling her the whole truth almost against my will, “When I was a kid, my uncle... well my uncle had been a lush, a drunk.  He always showed up to family events drunk, and always had that smell of stale alcohol about him.  Mom barely tolerated him because his shenanigans upset my study time, but he was her brother.”

I inhaled deeply and then said, “One day mom got a call from the police.  Uncle Ken was in jail.  He was drunk driving and t-boned another car, putting a woman and her daughter in the hospital.  The girl was my age, and her mother died a few days later.  The girl, Resse... her back was broken, and she was paralyzed from the waist down.  She's been in a wheelchair ever since, because of my uncle's stupidity.”

I gnashed out, “The only good thing that came from it was that Ken has never drank a single drop since.  Once he got out on probation after serving virtually no time for manslaughter, he has been sober and actually gives talks about the evils of drinking and driving at local children's centers and community clubs.”

I laid both hands on the table palm up and looked at them, at the blood on the hands of my family.  “So I'll never drink.  Even though alcohol is so pervasive in the circles I hang out in.  Even my own posse... none of them drink, I'd street them in a second if they did.  Sure we raise hell, but you don't need a fuckin' drink to do that.”

I couldn't read the emotions on her face as she listened.  She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to remember something.  Then she brightened a bit and asked, “You had mentioned a Reese before.  Your webmaster.  Is she...”

I nodded and then she hesitated and asked as she turned slightly from me, keeping her eyes on mine, “Does she know?”

I nodded my head as I answered. “That my uncle murdered her mom?  Yeah.  It came up when she first took the job to create my web presence.  The woman has an IQ I'm quite envious of.  She said between the way I looked at her with all the guilt in the world and a couple other indicators that she figured something was up.  So I came clean.”

I shrugged. “She didn't respond the way I thought she might have.  The woman got a pained look on her face and laid a hand on mine and had said, 'I'm so sorry.  What your uncle did must eat away at you.  Just remember, it isn't your fault.  It is his and only his.  Guilt by association is a pit you can't drag yourself out of.'  and then she proceeded to build me the most kick ass set of websites , while somehow becoming one of my casual friends.”

I smiled and shared, “She has a way of making you feel ok about just being you.  I suspect her wife has something to do with that.”

Karmin smiled and slid a hand across the table to take one of mine and give it a squeeze.  We looked up as the server set two glasses on the table in front of us.  I reached for my bag, and she shook her head.  “On the house.”

She nudged her chin to the bar where Bonnie was talking with her bartender, who's name I'm ashamed I couldn't recall.  They both gave us a little wave. I smiled and raised my glass in a salute the women, then turned back to the waitress.  “Thank you very much...”

She said, “Cindy.”

I nodded and then she was gone with a smile to the next table with more drinks.

Then I turned back to Karmin who was studying me again.  I blurted, “What?”

She shook her head then got all bashful again.  Was I really that hard to speak to?  She was looking at the people dancing as the band started a classic Amber LaLanie cover.  My smile grew, and I stood, pulling my jacket off and claiming the table by laying it over the back of my chair.

I held an expectant hand out as I called out, “Let's dance.  I owe you at least one for all the trouble.”

She took my hand timidly, and I relished the blush on her cheeks.  The Na Na in me was pleased with that, she had said she was over her crush, but we could still make her blush.  Then with Na Na in my forebrain, I held up a finger as I grasped her hand.

I fished out my cell and dialed Devon.  He answered on the first ring, and I yelled over the music into the phone, “Where's that damn music I requested?”

He sputtered out something incoherent about me not answering his call when he got to my place.  I smirked and asked, “Who the fuck said I was at my place?  Get that shit to me, now!”  Then I hung up and had to suppress an evil giggle as Karmin cocked her head at me in question while my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I lowered my head to speak in her ear as I slid my cell back into my pocket, “Devon.”

She looked up at me with wide eyes, and I shrugged and explained, “I'm being the person they expect me to be since they took you away from me.”  I shrugged. “I got Devon doing pointless tasks night and day until he begs for a transfer.”

She looked at me gape jawed and shocked, incredulity on her face.  Then she showed her feisty side and grinned and said, “You're an evil, evil woman, Nala Dupree.”

I inclined my head in imperial thanks then chuckled as she squeed and giggled when I spun her onto the dance floor near the stage, and then started dancing with the girl who was occupying all my thoughts lately.  I found I was sad that this wasn't a slow song, where I could hold her near and let her know through my actions, the words I couldn't get the balls to say.

But as fate would have it, the song was full of energy and joy and excitement like most of Amber LaLanie's songs,  this one, Potatoes, was no different and was one of my favorites.  I was lost in the sight of Karmin dancing in front of me.  Her moves were so smooth and provocative and innocent all at the same instant.  Fuckin' space llamas on a paper plate, was I getting turned on.

By the end of the song, I was having more fun than I have had in my life, dancing, laughing and singing with a pixie who didn't seem to have a care in the world.  How I envied that.  And I swear it was a thousand degrees in there as we tried to outdo each other with seductive dance moves.

We only returned to our table to rest when we got winded every few songs, and we shut that fuckin' place down.  Sorry, a little Na Na slipped through there. We had barely spoken a word the whole night as I kept Karmin smiling as much as I could.  Dancing made her smile and made that same popular, and confident girl I remembered from school shine through... so I danced her ass off so her smile would never leave.

I made sure to misdirect Devon a time or two when we sat to catch our breath and wet our whistles.

Kar held me captive with her hazel eyes the entire night.  She looked like she was on the verge of asking something but never voiced it.

When last call was announced near two, the last song started up... a slow song.  Karmin sighed and laid her head on my chest as I just sort of rocked, laying my head on hers, taking in her subtle scent.  I smiled at Megan as she caught our attention from nearby on the dance floor.

She gave us a thumbs up as she danced slowly with Tammy and Rhonda snuggled into either shoulder.  I inclined my head at her as I internally cocked an eyebrow.  Was she poly?  Rhonda looked like she was in heaven, and that made me smile.

Then I moved my head back a bit as Karmin looked up at me, her eyes questing and her smile gone.  My heart stuttered.  Had I done something wrong?  When I'm not the sarcastic headstrong version of myself, I was pretty socially inept according to Maddie.

Then my heart started beating again as she almost whispered over the soft music, “Nala?  Is this a... date?”

Yes, no, I don't know.  Good lord, I was a mess, and all I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs, “Yes!”  But with her I was the awkward girl in the lunchroom, drinking her grape juice while I studied so that I could live out my mother's dreams.

Fuck that shit, I was also my own creation, I was Na Na fuckin' Evermore.  I pulled on her confidence, and I looked down at the woman who was rapidly becoming my whole universe that night and said with a slight smirk, “You've got something on your lips.”

She furrowed her brow at my apparent redirection, and she looked disappointed when she asked, “What?”

I leaned down and said, “That would be my lips...” as I gave her a whispering kiss, barely brushing our lips.  It was thrilling, terrifying, and electric.  I held my breath as I pulled back slightly.  Her eyes were glassy and her smile almost drunken as she leaned up to recapture my lips.

Every cell in my body was on fire with want, longing, and need as I kissed back greedily.  Humpty Dumpty in a frying pan, I was kissing Kitty K-Hue! The girl I wished I could be in school.  My toes curled in my boots as I smiled into her kiss.

I never wanted the moment to end after we ended the kiss and she laid her head back on my chest.  She murmured, “Kuso.  All you had to do was say 'yes,'” as the song ended, and I tipped my head back and laughed in a mirth I haven't felt since I was young.

I looked down at her, biting my tongue as I said, “And she's funny too.”

She blushed then I showed mercy and dragged her to our table to retrieve our things and don our leather jackets.  The club was already half empty as people had started bailing like rats abandoning a sinking ship, hoping to beat the mad tangle the exodus would surely be making of the parking lot.

I had to dampen my libido as I glanced at the object of my affection, who was biting her lower lip as she looked at me with a touch of wonder in her eyes.  The same wonder I'm sure was reflected in mine.

I offered a hand and was quite pleased when she took it and laced out fingers.  Then I froze when she reached up with her other hand and gently extracted my tail from under my shirt and let it fall back down along my back, to my waist.

Then she looked far too cute, bashful, and innocent as she looked at her feet.  Ok, I could let my hair down for her.  That was almost unfair, I could almost imagine cat ears on her she was being so mischievous and adorable.

I hugged her to me, and we left the club, waving at Minnie as we went past.  There was only a lone cameraman at the far corner of the lot aiming his lens toward us.  The others had called it a night.  Then I slowed to a stop, causing Karin to look up.  “What is it?”

I grinned down at her, wiggling my brows and admitted, “I just realized I sent my posse packing.  I have no way home.”

Then I grinned like a predator and said, “Unless I call Devon to get me.”

She giggled and slapped my arm. “You are incorrigible and far too evil at times.  I almost feel sorry for the boy.”

I winged an eyebrow at the 'almost.'

Then she rolled her eyes at me and said, “I have a car you know.  I think we can manage.”

She admitted then with a bashful blush and shrug of her shoulders as she looked at our clasped hands.  “Besides, it would give us time to talk.”

Why was my mohawk bobbing in my vision?  Oh, it was because I was nodding dumbly.  Anything to be in her company just one moment longer.  I dreaded when the night ended, and I turned back into a pumpkin, consumed by the renovation and work.

I let her drag me across the street to an almost abandoned lot at the Spartan and up to her car.  Ok, it wasn't a tiny convertible, or pastel clown car, like my evil imagination conjured, it was a smaller sport SUV.  Though I couldn't hide my grin when I saw a JiJi cat bobblehead on the dash through the windshield.

She saw my notice and just gave me a toothy grin.  Then we hopped in, and we were on our way.  I rested a hand on the console between the chairs with a little hope in my heart.  I was rewarded when one of her hands drifted down from the wheel to clasp mine.  She had that same hopeful fear on her face as she refused to look at me until I started stroking the side of her hand with my thumb.

It is like the entire vehicle sighed in relief and our smiles came back, full force, as we started talking about our lives with each other.

Again I reflected upon the fact that I never wanted the night to end.

Chapter 11 – Sacked

I spun around, hugging myself, trying to wipe the silly smile off my face.  I glanced in the mirror and tried to will the smile away, but it was impossible.  I heard Nala on the other side of the bathroom wall in her sleeping area, getting ready for the day.

I should be beyond tired, we had talked on her sofa until after four AM.  Well mostly talking between makeout sessions that were far more tender than I thought Nala could be with her Na Na persona coloring her actions so much.  Instead, I felt energized.

I fell asleep on her sofa while we talked about how different our childhoods were, and how our parents had influenced each of our decisions.  I realized that she never really had a chance to live her own life until the day she broke and defied her mother and took the art scholarship.

I sighed.  She turned out pretty darn good, rebuilding her own life afterward.  And she was a good kisser.  I've never felt so turned on in my life than when her lips were on mine.  I suppressed a giggle, as I imagined I could still feel and taste them on my own lips.  Oh be quiet, so maybe I hadn't outgrown that crush I had on her.  Now shush.

I awoke on the sofa, under a couple blankets with the fluffiest pillow ever under my head.  She had taken my coat off for me, and it was folded neatly on the oversize coffee table.  All of that was perhaps more heartwarming and intimate than all our time talking.  The fact that she took care of me while I slept.

I felt a little self-conscious that I didn't have time to go home to change, as I had offered to drive her to work.  I'd have to wear my Major outfit in the mail room.  At least it isn't what I was wearing in the office yesterday.

I tapped the back door of the freestanding bathroom, and she grunted a welcome, so I stepped out into her sleeping area in the awesome open space of her loft.  She shot a smile at me over the dressing screen she was behind as she pulled a pair of leather pants she had draped over the screen to her.

I blushed then bit my lower lip in want when I realized she was standing there naked, with only a wood framed, black paper-paneled screen dividing us.  I absently wondered who actually had a changing screen in their bedroom?  Well, she really didn't have a bedroom, so maybe it was understandable.

I caught the aroma of baby powder, the main component in her personal scent that drove me crazy.  It was such an odd choice for someone who played at being hard as nails and twice as intimidating.

I asked, “Baby powder?”

She stopped moving then her head poked back up over the screen.  She looked a little sheepish and looked around like she was making sure nobody was listening.  Then she held up a little bottle of baby powder and her leather pants.  “Makes it easier to pull on the leather.”

Then she blushed a little and admitted, “I could use the unscented, but... I kind of like it.”

I nodded and admitted, “Me too.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me, letting her alter ego's smugness out to play as I felt my cheeks warm in a blush.

She said in a silly, suggestive voice, “Oh reaaaaaly?”

I stuck out my tongue and pulled down my lower eyelid and said, “Be-da!”  I had to bite the tip of my tongue as I grinned at her answering chuckle.

She teased, “You really are a living anime character aren't you?”

I explained in a logical tone, “You do realize it is imprudent to tease the one offering you transportation?”

I enjoyed the spirited bout of banter that followed until we were downstairs and heading out the lobby doors.  She got all my references, and had a quick wit, though it was heavy on the f-word, the s-word, and references to improbable combinations of animals and food.  The girl I liked was so weird, and that was more than alright with me.

She asked as she opened the door for me, “Ummm... dinner tonight?”

I was a little distracted by the gorgeous mane of hair hanging down from her mohawk, had she left it out for me?  I really loved it.

My distraction vanished into razor sharp focus at the question.  I pursed my lips into a thin line trying not to explode into glitter and rainbows like she was expecting by the look on her face.  Instead, I schooled my voice and asked, so I could be certain this time, “A date? Are we dating?”

She exhaled. “If you have to ask then maybe I should call Megan or...”

My hand was covering her mouth then as I gave her a warning look.  Well, I'm sure it was as intimidating as a fluffy squirrel staring down a kitten, but it was enough.  She licked my hand to make me pull it back, then softened and said, “Duh, I'd like to date you, I thought my desperation was plainly ovbi...”

She trailed off as a camera flashed and we stopped.  I noticed some of her posse leaning against the wall.  Oh...

She said in embarrassment to the people gathered there, “Umm... hi.”  Then she looked a bit sheepish and nudged a thumb toward me.  “I uhh... have a ride today.”

The people all looked at each other then at her with thoroughly amused looks on their faces.  She actually growled at them.  I kind of liked some aspects of Na Na, and that was sort of sexy.  Then she grinned and waved them off as she took my hand and placed it in the crook of her arm as she told them, “See you at the Empire?”

They made affirmative sounds and gestures.  Well, most were polite gestures at least, then chuckling, they headed to the line of vehicles parked in front of the building.  The handsome preppy guy with the slightly hardcore but spendy looking clothes saluted as Nala dragged me past, her chin raised imperiously.

I whispered, “One day your face is going to stick like that.”

This got a giggling chuckle from her as she said out the side of her mouth, “Shut up, I'm trying to be fuckin' badass here.”

I exhaled and tried not to smile.

Then she said, “Hard enough to do with a cartoon on my arm.”

Hey!  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hey!”

Her face was threatening to break out in a grin, I could tell by the way her lips were quivering.  She looked strained like it was taking a herculean effort to keep herself looking, as she had said, badass.

I pouted. “Just get in, buckle up, and shut up.”

She saluted as she opened her door and slid into the passenger seat, “Yes Major.”

Ok fine, she's funny.

I noted the other vehicles all pulled away from the curb behind us, and it was like I was the head of a dragon with the others flowing behind us.  It felt sort of... different to me.  Nala did this every day?  I absently wondered if she had any privacy at all if her posse was always in tow.

Then I got it.  I understood her place.  None of them was there.  From what I gathered, she had only let her two best friends, Madelyn and Dani into her loft.  It was the one place she had her privacy, the one place closed off from her Na Na Evermore persona, where she could be herself.  Where she could be Nala Dupree.

I felt a little bad that I had intruded upon her safe place.  What was it Superman and Supergirl had?  A Fortress of Solitude?  I felt bad I had intruded in her Fortress of Solitude that first night.  But now I felt special that she had invited me up at all.  She was such a complex woman, and I was enjoying peeling back all the layers.

Oh, and there was that great kisser thing too.

I caught myself grinning wistfully as I drove.  I asked, “So tell me more about the Empire.”

She nodded and then asked, “If you have a minute when we get there, why don't I take you on the penny tour?”

I nodded back. “I'd like that.”

We pulled into an unkempt parking lot.  The asphalt was cracked, and weeds were growing up through the cracks.  The structure itself had a classic art deco-ish gothic feel of theaters of a bygone era, and the facade was weather beaten, and in disrepair at first glance, water stained brownstone flutes, and surface columns accented the old dilapidated brick structure, giving the entire thing the feel of some dystopian fantasy novel.  It left me wondering when the zombie horde was going to shuffle out in search of our brainz.

Don't take me wrong, I loved all that about it!  This building had character.  And knowing it is an old theater just adds to the ambiance.  I did a quick time check before we got out.  I had about fifteen minutes before I had to go to get to work on time.

She held up a finger and pulled out her cell before we approached the building.  A few seconds later she was grinning as she yelled into the phone, “God damn it, Devon.  I'm standing here looking at my hand, where a guava-melon smoothie should be.  And do you know what I see, Devon?”

She squinted her eyes as she shook, suppressing a laugh, then nodded and said like she was speaking to an ill-behaved teen, “That's right, I see nothing in my fuckin' hand.  What?  The music?  I don’t need that anymore, the moment has passed.  But I will need an autographed copy of Anabella Harris-West's autobiography, Unstoppable Force, on my desk in an hour.  I promised it to someone.”

She covered her mouth and composed herself while I stared at her gape jawed, she could be positively evil with a capital Diva from Blood.  The poor boy was going to quit if she... kept... this...  oh kuso, I got it.  She really was evil, that was her plan.  If nobody else would work with her, then they'd have to reassign me back to her if she insisted that the contract stated she would be assigned a PA.

She gave me a grin that was all predatory teeth when she saw my realization, then she asked him, “No, why the hell would I want a guava-melon smoothie?  Bring my fuckin' breakfast and the book.”  Then she hung up and made an ushering motion to the playhouse like nothing had happened.

I shook my head and mouthed, “Evil.”

She countered by simply holding her hand out as we walked, my hand found hers, and she laced our fingers, and I may have let out a contented sigh.  It felt as if her hand was made specifically for mine, it felt so natural, so... right.

Then she rose the middle finger of her other hand over her shoulder at the chorus of, “Awww,” which came from behind us as her crew dismounted from their vehicles.

She called back, “There's a fresh helping of 'fuck you' in the Crib for you losers.”

One of the girls who was wearing an outfit which must have cost two months salary for me, started singing sweetly, “Na Na's got a girlfriend.”

Nala rolled her eyes and complained in resignation to the sky, “Oh, for fuck's sake.”  But the smile on her face belied her exasperated words.  She gave my hand a little squeeze and then typed in a code on the surprisingly modern electronic lock at the back door.

I narrowed my eyes and did a quick reappraisal of the building as she ushered me through the door.  Looks could be deceiving I knew, and I caught the things I hadn't from a distance.  Yes, while most of the structure looked to be in disrepair, the roof flashing visible at the parapet looked new, just like the seals on the few high windows in the back of the building.  The frame of the steel security door we stepped through looked brand new and the door was immaculate on the inside instead of water rust stained like the outside.

I chuckled.  It was another facade that Nala had created.  Just like Na Na, it was all for show, to keep up her branding.  She projected to the world what they expected to see.  She typed in a code on an alarm pad inside then led me into the space beyond which was dimly lit.

The interior of the building backstage was at least dry and dusty.  Though showing years of disuse, the place was relatively sound and clean.  The rigging for the lighting and curtains drooped down around us as she led me to a door which had Stage Manager painted on it in faded red lettering.

She typed in a code on the electronic lock there, and she held the door open with that smug smirk of hers that did all kinds of warm, flip floppy things to the butterflies in my belly.

I stopped half way through the door and stopped as I took in what I was seeing.  “Kuso!”  This... I was not expecting.  Instead of an old musty backstage office where she could put her feet up, there was what looked like a modern studio which looked like it belonged at the station.  Heck, our sound and video guys would be drooling over some of the equipment that adorned the room.

I realized the giggling I was hearing was coming from me.  I shut my mouth and fought off the blush burning at my cheeks before I made even more of a spectacle of myself.  I realized that this is exactly what I should have been expecting.  Nala didn't run a brilliant media empire out of some musty back office somewhere.  This... was where the magic happened.

The woman had my respect, and that was important to me for some reason.

She pushed past me with that smug smirk on her face and said as the others pushed past me too, with similar smirks on their faces, “Welcome to the Crib.”

I muttered playfully to them all, “Yeah yeah yeah, make fun of the new girl's surprise.”

One of the girls chuckled and told Nala, “This one's cute, can we keep her?”

I blushed as Nala replied with, “I hope so.”

She stopped any protestations I may have had by giving me a quick peck on the lips.

Oh, ok.

I mentally slapped the back of the head of the neko cat me who was exploding into little hearts in my mind as she hopped around in tiny circles.

Nala said as she spun slowly, her arms wide in the space as the others went to sit in places that seemed natural for them.  She reiterated, “Welcome to my home away from home.”

I narrowed one eye and shook a finger at her as I scolded, “You're not half as clever as you think you are, lady.  I knew you had to have a studio tucked away somewhere to do all your post on your footage. You couldn't be doing it in Garage Band and iMovie on an iPad.”

This got a group chuckle and then she took the time to finally introduce her core crew to me.  They were an intriguing bunch, but I could easily see each of their values to her inner circle as she shared what each of them contributed to the branding and production effort.

After introductions, she took my hand and excitedly showed me around the place.  I could see in my mind's eye what the place had been like in the past, an art deco masterpiece worthy of the name, Empire.  We finished at a sheet of plywood that was resting on some sawhorses in the front lobby.  There were hundreds of papers and blueprints on it.

I absently shuffled through them as she explained her vision of the Empire being a destination for the punk and rock scene.  And how she saw it being some sort of dance club on the off days when concerts or raves weren't planned.

I nodded as I started organizing the utter chaos of the proposals, contractor contact information.  Scribbled notes on scraps of paper and even sketches on the backs of napkins.  I caught myself shaking my head.  This lacked any sort of organization and would only cause it to breed more chaos as the mountain of disorganized stuff grew.

How could a woman who had planned her brand down to the tiniest detail, be in such a disarray for something as simple as a building renovation?

I realized she had trailed off as I stacked things by relevance and topic.  I paused and looked up sheepishly as she asked, “You're not even listening are you, you little snot?”  She had an amused look on her face.

I lowered my eyes and made a pained face. “Honto ni gomen ne. Sorry, Nala-chan. I was... this is a disorganized mess, no wonder you said you were pulling your hair out.”  I found myself absently reaching for her 'tail' of long locks as I mentioned hair when she moved beside me.  I ran my fingers through it as she looked at what I was doing.

She closed her eyes like she was savoring something then she looked at her wrist, where there was no watch, only a chunky chain that looked to be made of silver links carved like little skulls.  “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

My eyes shot wide, and I pulled out my cell. “Kuso!”

She giggled as I started running for the back, muttering, “I can't be late!”  I was pulled in an arc from my own momentum and into her embrace.  The urgency left me as I was captured by her eyes, they pulled me into their depths as she lowered her lips to mine and gave me a kiss I'd be able to savor all day as it charged my body and gave me so many inappropriate urges I just wanted to act upon.

I felt like my feet were fluttering just off the ground as she said, “See you tonight, Kar.  Dinner, remember?”

I wandered off in a daze toward the back, touching my lips as I nodded.  I think I heard someone who sounded like a dazed me saying, “Ok, Nala.”

Hey, why did the sexy punker look so smug as I left?

I squeed in my car as I rocketed down the road to the station.  I had kissed Nala Dupree again!  I needed no chibi to express myself just then as I acted silly all the way to work.

I brought coffee for the boys and headed down into the mail room.  I handed out the warm beverages as I greeted them,  “Kon, Armin.  How are we today?”

Armin waved and pounced on his coffee, Kon said, “Hi Karmin.  Thanks!”  He seemed a little nervous.

I squinted at him as I started sorting the new bags of mail waiting by the sorting table.  “What?”

He seemed reticent to answer then he said with a touch of mischief, “Nothing... Kitty K-Hue.”

I dropped the stack of mail I was holding, and it went everywhere on the floor.  I bent and started picking it up.  “What!?”

Armin pointed at me, “You're  wearing the same clothes as the pictures.  Did you... are you and Na Na... did...”

Again, what!?

Armin, Jared, reached out carefully with a Seattle Tattler like he was afraid I'd bite off his hand and eat it.

I took it as I placed the mail back on the table with my other hand, and then I blanched at the cover photo, and the headline made my blood run cold.  I shivered as I read it while I looked at a picture of Nala pulling me out the door at the Spartan.

It read, 'Who is Kitty K-Hue?  Na Na Evermore and lover get expelled from the Spartan for Fighting.'

No no no no... “Chikushō!  Manuke Karmin!”

I shut my eyes and didn't look back when Mr. Reins from HR spoke from the doorway, “Miss Hughes.  The station manager and I need to speak with you in my office please.”

I turned back slowly and saw a copy of the Tattler in his hand too.  Mr. Kernan wanted to see me?

I inclined my head, bowing ever so slightly from my waist and said, “Hai.”  Then followed behind him, clutching the copy of the Tattler in my hand and quickly perusing the article.  They didn't have any of the facts right at all, except for the name Nala had left for me at the door.  They made it sound like Nala went into the club itching for a fight.

The dark look the station manager had on his handsome face told me this wasn't going to go well at all.  He motioned to a chair in front of the HR director's desk and said in an ominous tone, “Miss Hughes, have a seat.”

***

Kuso!  I can't believe my career is over just like that.  Sacked over lies in a gossip rag.  And even if I were with Nala they way they implied, I wasn't her PA anymore, and my personal life was just that.  Personal!

I walked numbly from the station, holding my little box of personal belongings as security escorted me out... like a criminal.

I didn't know what to do as I walked toward the parking structure, not looking back.

I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not give them the satisfaction.

I shrugged to wipe a tear from my cheek as I walked.  They hadn't even let me defend myself.  It came down to them believing that it looked as though the station was plying Nala with... me, to get a favorable deal with her.  They didn't care about the truth, just their image.  Even Nala, where her image was completely everything for her brand, wouldn't callously fire someone over lies... if she had employees that is.

The worst part of it all was that I think that Mr. Reins believed the story.  It stung just as bad as when I had seen that shadow of doubt in Porter's face the prior day.

Three days.  That's all it took to tear down everything I had been working toward in my career, just three days after being assigned to be Nala's PA.  Three days for the company I worked for and dedicated the last few years of my life to, to turn their backs on me.

I stopped at my car, put my things in the back then got in.  I stared at the steering wheel, still numb and in shock.  I knew an emotional tidal wave was just hiding under the surface, preparing to crush me under its weight if I allowed it to start flowing.

That thought was all it took to open the floodgates, and I sobbed long and hard, pressing my hands against the ache in my chest as it heaved.  I cried until I couldn't breathe until I was forced to restrain my feelings again, to push them back into a cage that would only hold them for so long.  I needed to pull myself together long enough to get home.

I pulled down the visor and looked into the little mirror in it.  I cringed then got a tissue... fine multiple tissues, to wipe away the snot and tears from my face.  I'm not a pretty crier, ok?  Once I got myself looking presentable again, looking so impassive with all my emotions locked away, I started the car and headed out onto the streets of Seattle.

I didn't even have a clue where I was going.  I could go back to my place, but it would seem like a tomb.  I needed comfort.  Someone to affirm to me that I wasn't a failure, that I was a good person.

My parents were out of town with the Peace Corps until next week.  I hadn't made many friends outside of the station since I came back to the States.  I've been too busy with... work.  Proving to them I was a good asset for the company.

That's how I found myself sitting in the far back of the parking lot at the Empire.  A little voice in my head telling me that Nal could make everything better.  After a few minutes, I composed myself and turned off the car and headed in.

I stopped at the door and looked around.  There were four different contractor trucks in the lot which weren't there when I dropped Nala off this morning.  And I saw a couple men, one on the roof, one down below with a tape on a spool, measuring the height of the structure.

This made me smile a bit, pushing down the darkness of the roiling emotions just under my surface.  Nala wasn't waiting around on corporate to recognize her, she blazed her own trail, chased her own dream without relying on the approval of anyone else.

I looked at the door and furrowed my brow.  Should I knock?  Or was this just like any other business and I should walk in?  She wasn't expecting me.

Little neko chibi me slapped my brain then stuck out her tongue at me before she started licking her paws.  Just great, she's got paws now.  Yeah, yeah, I'm overthinking everything, questioning my every move and decision.  That wasn't me.  Pull yourself together Karmin.  I took a deep breath and exhaled, squared my shoulders, and stepped through the door... straight into pandemonium.

Two contractors were in the process of yelling at each other, faces red in anger.  I moved around them, heading toward Nala's backstage studio.  I heard a familiar voice in the auditorium beyond the heavy curtain, trying to calm down a chorus of disgruntled sounding people.

Brandon, was saying, “If you can all just settle down.  She'll be back in a bit.”  His voice was drowned out by protests.

Doshitano?  What in the name of Ruby Rose was going on?

I altered course and stepped out onto the stage from behind the curtain Stage Left.  Brandon was standing with his arms out, between a heavily muscled woman in a yellow hardhat and a slightly portly looking man in a white hardhat.  The man was saying, “Listen, sweetheart, I was called...”

The woman took a menacing step toward him, pushing into Brandon's outstretched hand.  She moved Brandon like he wasn't even there as she glared at the other contractor and ground out, “Sweetheart?”  Her voice took on a dangerous tone, “Listen, sweetheart... I was called in by...”

There were three other men gathered around who all started arguing, drowning out her voice.  There must have been more contractor vehicles up front as everyone seemed to be wearing different company logos on their shirts.

I saw Beth sitting in one of the few rows of chairs that remained in the auditorium, she was grinning as she texted without looking at her phone.  She looked thoroughly entertained by the chaos as Brandon repeated, “Miss Evermore will be back soon.  Please, can we all be civil until then?”

My heart sank.  Nala wasn't here?  I looked around and shrugged internally, it wasn't like I had anywhere to be anymore, I could wait.

The noise level rose, it was clear that Brandon was in over his head.  I took two deep breaths centering myself, then slid on my mirrored sunglasses as I stood to my full five foot nothing, brought my fingers to my lips, and gave a shrill whistle that made me squint one eye in pain.

Just like that, silence fell on both sides of the curtain.  I said in my best Na Na voice, “You two, backstage, get out here!  The rest of you,” I pointed at the combatants, “sit down and zip it!”

There was some hesitation, but they all moved over to a row of chairs and hesitantly sat, leaving empty chairs between each of them.  The woman sat on the arm of a chair at the aisle, and I just cocked my head at her.  After a moment of indecisive hesitation, she sat in the chair.

The two from backstage emerged, and I simply pointed at the chairs.  They each hopped off the stage wordlessly and took a seat.  All eyes were on me.  I scanned the group, who were all silently watching me.

Huh.  That worked.  Kitty me was strutting around in my head, overly pleased with herself.

I turned and pointed a finger at Brandon, “Rokudo, what's going on here?”

Beth snickered from her seat, and I suppressed a grin over the fact she got the reference from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.  But Brandon really did look like an unshaven Rokudo.  Though the confusion on his face showed me that Brandon himself wasn't an anime aficionado.  He lifted a hand palm up toward the contractors and opened his mouth.

Before he could speak, Katherine poked her head out from backstage. “Umm... it's my fault.  I asked these contractors to come speak with Na Na about the renovation of the Empire and to get them to do takeoffs for bids.  I umm... I didn't think... I just asked them to show today, I should have staggered the times.”

Brandon gave her the evil eye, one brow cocked as he added, “So she's been hiding in the Crib while they've all been arriving, leaving me to referee until Na Na returns.  They started showing up just after she left.”

One man started speaking, and I channeled some of Nala's Na Na and just shot a hand out to point at him as I kept my attention on Brandon.  To my surprise, the man went silent.  Oooo... I could get used to this false authority I was exuding, I wonder if this is how Nala feels when she goes all badass in her alter ego.

I asked, “Where did she go?”

I felt ice water in my veins when he shrugged and said, “She broke that Devon kid like a toy and he quit.  She's heading to the station to talk with the station manager and that Porter chick.”

The... station?  She didn't know...

Well, she would soon, then she was going to be upset with me.  I may as well try to make it up to her here.  Nal's crew may be good at what they do, but this kind of thing seemed out of their wheelhouse, whereas I lived and breathed organization.

I nodded, glad they couldn't see the panic in my eyes I was hiding behind my glasses.  I must have looked a sight, still dressed head to toe in my tight Major leathers, taking control.  I turned to the contractors and addressed them sternly, “Try to comport yourselves with a little decorum.  We'll need you in the office one at a time, so I can schedule a time for each of you to meet separately with Miss Evermore about the project this afternoon.”

They all started to talk, and I held up a hand, and they stopped.  “Anyone who cannot comport themselves with the dignity and professionalism your craft deserves, will be asked to leave and you will not be asked to bid on this project.  Do I make myself clear?”

They grumbled assent, and Brandon whispered in my ear, “What are you doing, Karmin?”

I looked at him and smiled and said plainly, “Saving your ass.”

He blinked twice and teased in mock shock, “I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't just heard you cuss.”

I grinned at him, stuck out my tongue, and pulled down my lower lid. “Be-da.” This got him chuckling.  Then I schooled my face and turned to the group and pointed at the woman, “Ladies first.  Come on back.”

The warning look I gave her as she stood and gave the others a smug look, washed that look away and she hustled up the stairs to follow me to the office.

Why was I smiling?  Hadn't I just been fired?

Chapter 12 – Will you be my...

I got to the station and my new PA, Jerry, met me at the doors, looking almost terrified of me as I tied my tail in a knot around my neck.  I had forgotten I had it out for Kar to play with.  It was sort of nice having it down like that.

The new guy was a redhead, as tall as me, and looking like he had just turned twenty or twenty-one.  Why did people that age look like kids to me?  I was only a few years older.  He had obviously heard about me from Devon, who had requested a transfer this morning from what I was told by Jerry when he called to introduce himself an hour ago.

I knew this was him before he even spoke, because of that primal fear reflected in his eyes.

After introductions, I asked nicely, “Can you bring me to the station manager's office please, Jerry?”

He shook his head. “I can contact his personal secretary and get a meeting scheduled...”  He trailed off at the look I gave him.

I asked patiently, not wanting to be as big a bitch to him as I was to Devon, but he was making it so hard not to, “Did I ask you to schedule a meeting?”  I shook my head, and when he just stared at me, I reached out and put my hand on his curly red mop of hair and turned his head side to side.

Then I asked, “Did I ask you to bring me to the station manager's office?”

I nodded, and he opened his mouth. “But...”

I rolled my eyes and nodded his head for him.  Then I let him go and turned expectantly toward the building.

He hastily opened the door, “Yes ma'am.”  Then he grabbed something from an entry table in the lobby and thrust it to me.  I took the clear plastic cup with the straw from him and cocked an eyebrow at the orangish slurry it.

I prompted, “What's this, Jerry?”

His eyes widened in fear again, and I wondered what horror stories he was told.  He said quickly, “A guava-melon smoothie.  Devon said you liked them.”

It took all the power in the universe I could pull in to me to stop myself from snorting as I handed it back to him.

I sighed and said, “Eww.  I just did that to torture poor Devon.”  Then I blinked innocently at him.

He stared at me incredulously for a moment then remembered our quest, and he said with a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “This way Miss Dupree.”  He took pleasure in Devon's displeasure?  Was the PA gig that competitive?  Was this the atmosphere Karmin had to work in?

I answered myself as I remembered that it was exactly why I was there, the fuckin' games the station was playing.  That thought made any remorse I had about treating Devon so terribly, fade away.

He brought me wordlessly to the top floor.  I grinned at Porter, as my producer saw our arrival and tried to get to us before we entered the elevator, “Miss Dupree?”

I stopped Jerry from holding the elevator as I waved at Porter and said, “Hi.” as the elevator closed.  She was curious at to why I said I was coming in, but I had told her nothing through Jerry.

I actually liked Porter.  The only thing that didn't sit well with me about the woman was the fact she apparently hadn't fought for Karmin.  But the more I learn about the environment here at KVRL, the more I'm starting to understand.  It was a culture of “Keep your head down and don't make waves.”  If one perceived mistake, real or not, could sideline a person or their career, I'd probably be a little hesitant myself.

If I wasn't Na Na fuckin' Evermore, that is.

We reached the corner office at the end of the hall on the top floor.  There was a huge outer office that had a desk with a professionally dressed Hispanic woman almost barring the way to a door with a plaque which read George W. Kernan III, Station Manager.  She was the gatekeeper, the Gandolf to tell us we shall not pass.

The woman perked up when she saw us coming, not even raising an eyebrow at my punk looks.  She gave a smile just as professional as everything else about her, and she started to ask as she looked up through a stylish pair of black rimmed glasses, “Hello, how may I...”

I winked down at her as I stepped right past saying, “Hiya gorgeous. He in?”

She was up and quickly moving in front of me, “Mr. Kernan is in a meet...”

I slipped around her. “Love your hair.  I'll just see myself in.”

She tried again to stop me as one hand absently touched the tight bun that her shiny ebony hair was up in.  “You can't just...”

I heard the elevator ding down the hall and glanced back to see Porter stepping out and looking our way.  I winked at her and laid my hand on the secretary's hand on the door lever and pushed down, the door swung open as I smiled at her while I pushed my way past her.

I stepped in, the secretary, Jerry, and Porter in tow, like they were all holding onto a Sherpa safety rope tied between us in some epic climb.

The well-groomed middle-aged man in the large leather chair behind an impressive dark wood desk, sat up a little straighter, as did the man sitting in one of the three chairs which sat in front of the desk.  I cocked an eyebrow in recognition of the deputy mayor, Sherman Oaks.

I flopped myself down in one of the other chairs, slinging a leg over one of the arms to let it swing lazily as I draped my arms over the back of the chair, “Georgie, Sherm, how's tricks?”

The secretary almost whined, “I'm sorry Mr. Kernan, I tried to stop her, she...”

The man seemed to be studying me, he schooled his face well, masking his reaction.  I couldn't tell if he was annoyed, enraged, or amused at me barging in.

The man didn't move his eyes from mine as he said, “It's ok, Rose.”  Then he looked away to the deputy mayor, “Sherman, can we finish our discussion over lunch?  I know you were pressed for time this morning.”

The other man wasn't as unflappable as Kernan was, and stood indignantly, buttoned his suit coat, and the reached out to shake Mr. Kernan's hand.  “Of course George, I'll see myself out.”

As he stalked past me, I said, “Hey Sherm, tell your boss she's doing a kickass job.  I voted for her.”

I gave a smug grin as he left without a word.  Then George made a gesture with his hand and the secretary started out the door as he called after her, “Please get with Mr. Oaks' aid and set up lunch, would you Rose?”

As she shut the door behind her, she said, “Of course, Mr. Kernan.”

He turned to Porter as he made an ushering motion to the chairs with his hand as he stood and stepped around the desk to sit on the front edge of it leisurely.  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Graves?  I wasn't aware we had a meeting this morning.”

Porter sat while Jerry stood behind my chair, acting like a piece of furniture lest he be noticed by the big bad predators in the room.

Porter cocked her head toward me, a look of bemused confusion on her face as she looked at me while replying to him, “I'm not sure sir.  Miss Dupree has taken us all by surprise this morning.”

I shrugged and offered, “I'm here to find out what kind of fuckin' circus you're running here.  You're playing musical assistants with me.  You take away Hughes, the only one who could keep up with me, and then you give me Devon, who I snapped like a twig in a day.  Now I'm assigned Jerry here, who is already about to break, and he hasn't even been on the job for more than a few minutes.”

Jerry made a strangled sound, and I glanced back at him.  He had a look of indignation mixed with his fear of me on his face, and I sighed. “Admit it, kid, you're two seconds from running away screaming, and I haven't raised a single fuckin' finger yet.”

He opened his mouth to protest, then dropped his head.  That silent confirmation told us all that we needed to know right there.  I felt a little sorry for him too, though I hadn't even done anything yet.  I don't think any of them had handled anyone like me before, well Na Na not me.  And the funniest thing was that I didn't need any handling when it came to maintaining my brand, you better damn well believe I took it more seriously than any of them.  I wasn't going to jeopardize it by leaving anything important in the hands of one of these PAs who put the news station before my needs.

Though I didn't need any of their assistants, they were the ones who insisted upon it in our contract.  I knew they were really supposed to be my handlers, not mt helpers.  And since the station insisted, then I didn't want anyone but Karmin at my side.

I turned to Mr. Kernan and turned my palms up where my arms were draped over the back of the chair and said before he could speak, “So Georgie, why don't you just make it easy on all of us and reassign Miss Hughes to me before I break the rest of your misfit toys?”

There was silence in the room for a long five beat before he replied, “The image of the station is paramount in any management decisions we make...”

I turned in the chair to sit up properly and pinned him with an unblinking stare as I interrupted. “Yeah, yeah.  And you don't want people to think you're running some sort of fucked up escort service for your talent.  Even if the gossip rags publish outright lies like the Tattler did.”

I leaned forward. “Well I have a question for you Georgie, if your station wanted to avoid controversy and scandal, you backed the wrong horse.  So why me?”

I narrowed my eyes and stated what I knew to be true the entire time, from the moment the station approached me, “No, KVRL knew exactly what it was doing by approaching me.  It is the viewers that such a scandalous individual like myself would bring in, wondering what I'd do next, that brought about the offer, to begin with.”

I smirked, “Viewership of the morning segment were up twenty three percent with the first Seattle Evermore broadcast, that's money in the bank.”  He cocked an eyebrow over the fact I knew the numbers.

I sighed. “So let's not fuck around with all these false pretenses, and just reassign Karmin to me, and we can go back to pretending that you all are shocked by anything that happens around me?  Shall we?”

I glanced over to a tight-lipped Porter, she knew I spoke the truth, and that was all the confirmation I needed.  They needed the boost to their viewership, and I was that vehicle to do it, by hook or by crook.  “Penguin farts in the Sahara people, just do what's smart.”

The Station Manager didn't move a muscle from where he sat staring at me intently.  There was absolutely no surprise on his face, reaffirming that I had hit the nail on the head.  Then he sat back a bit on the desk and said, “It isn't quite that easy, Miss Dupree.”

I blurted, “Oh for fuck's sake.  Yes, it is.  And it's Miss Evermore to you and all the people around here now.  You don’t get to be so familiar with me after jerking my chain around.”

He shook his head. “No, you don't understand.  I let Miss Hughes go this morning. Less than an hour ago.”

Both Porter and I blurted out in incredulity in unison, “You did what?!”

While he grabbed something from beside him on his desk, he had the decency to look a bit sheepish as he said, “After the new piece from the Tattler this morning, we couldn't afford the appearance of any impropriety to stain the reputation of the station.  We can't have our employees galavanting around, getting into brawls... sleeping with our talent.”

I was out of my chair, and halfway to him before Porter was up, desperately trying to hold me back.  I dragged her the rest of the way with me, as I was far stronger than her.  Mr. Kernan was on his feet, with a sensible edge of fear in his eyes despite his calm exterior.  Porter moved in front of me, holding my arms ineffectually, pleading with her eyes.

I wanted so badly to lay the ass out on his desk for implying Karmin was that kind of girl.  A good shiner would remind him not to speak ill of her.

I locked eyes with him and ground out through gritted teeth as I said, “I'm going to give you this one warning, don't believe everything you read in a gossip rag.  Karmin is neither sleeping with me nor doing any 'galavanting' or brawling.”

I took a breath to center myself and give myself a moment to try to rein Na Na in a bit.  She wouldn't have it as we continued, “She was doing her fucking job that first night and delivering a message to me from the people who run the Pike.  We found out we had gone to school together and we spent the night reminiscing about old times.”

I barred my teeth and then continued. “After you removed her as my personal assistant, I invited her to come watch me do a podcast at the Spartan.  Partially as a professional courtesy, but mostly to woo her.  She's an awesome woman, and I'd be lucky to have her.  I got into an altercation while defending her honor.  That's why we were ejected from the Spartan.”

Then I growled in challenge, “Besides, you had already removed her as my assistant.  What fucking business is it of yours what she does or who she dates on her own personal time? ...Georgie?”

He regarded me a moment as Porter looked back over her shoulder at him.  “Sir, Cassandra... Karmin is possibly the best personal assistant this company has ever had, she works ten times as hard as the others...”  She shot an apologetic look at Jerry, who just shrugged, not taking offense as he appeared to agree with her assessment as she plowed ahead, “At the risk of raising your ire, I think you made a big mistake letting her go.”

He shook his head slowly.  “What is done is done.  We can't un-ring that bell.  We'll see what we can do to better accommodate your needs, Miss... Evermore.”

Fut the actual ostrich plucking, frog jumping wuck?!  The man was too proud to ask her back?

I looked down at Porter and placed my hands on her waist, lifted her and moved her aside.  She was looking a little afraid of what I might do.  But I respected her for standing up for Kar.  I stood nose to nose with Kernan, and said in an arctic cold tone, “Eight.”

Then I spun on my heel and started toward the door.  Jerry started to follow but the glare I shot him made him stop in fear.  The boy likely almost shit himself.

Kernan called after me,  “Eight What?”

I hissed out, “Eight more contracted broadcasts in our trial period for Seattle Evermore and I'm out.”

I hesitated after I yanked the door open and it banged loudly against the doorstop when I heard Porter speak in a shaky voice, “Please consider this my notice sir.  When Miss Evermore's contract is fulfilled, I'll be taking my leave as well.”

I smirked a bit.  Porter had a big brass pair on her didn't she?  I wondered how long she has wanted to do that in this poisonous corporate environment.  Ok, Porter was ok in my book now, even though I think she had a little doubt about Karmin when this whole fucking mess started.

I wish I'd never agreed to the segment.

No... that's a lie.  If I hadn't, I'd never have reconnected with Karmin.  I wouldn't trade that for anything.  But now her career was in shambles because of me.  Because of this fucking Na Na persona I've crafted.

I heard Porter's heels on the hardwood behind me as I stalked out of the office past Rose, who clutched some papers to her chest as she absently touched her hair with her other hand.  I spared her an apologetic smile.

Porter was calling after me, “Nala.  Na Na.”

I didn’t want to talk just then, my temper could make things worse.  I needed to think, to decompress, to find Karmin.  So I opened the door to the stairs and slipped in and took the steps down three at a time.

I heard the door open again behind me, but she didn’t follow.  Her shorter legs wouldn't be able to keep up.  I was fuming and didn't know if it was Na Na or me as I stomped to Brandon's Escalade while I fished the key out.

I was going to need to get on my bike today and ride long and hard to work off some of this anger.  The worst part of it was that I knew most of that anger was directed inwardly at myself.  I cost Kar her job, whether the station was being unfair to her or not, it had been because of her association with me.

I called her up as I drove, but my call went directly to voicemail.  It struck me that that was my only way to reach her.  That and email, as I didn't even know where she lived.  Something I had been hoping to rectify tonight when I called to find out where to pick her up for dinner.

I smiled at that.  A date.  A real, actual date.  When was the last time I had one of those?  Had I ever?  I mean Na Na has had a few hookups from time to time when I got lonely, but that was just sex.  I don't think I've really ever dated or even wanted to date anyone.

Would she even give me the time of day now, now that I had cost her her job?

Stop dwelling on what ifs Nala.  Pull yourself together.  Your posse doesn’t need to see you like this and lose confidence in Na Na.  Just go to the Empire and cool down and think.

Oh shit!  The Empire.  I was supposed to meet with the contractors this morning, and I left my people high and dry.

I needed to go take care of that, then maybe I'd be cooled down enough to contact Porter.  She'd know where Karmin lived, then I can go apologize.

I pulled into the lot and hesitated.  There were multiple construction company trucks in the lot and a couple parked in the front too.  Had Kat had them all come at once?  That would be a mess with competing companies under the same roof at the same time.  What was she thinking?

Oh well, time for Na Na to kick some ass and take names, and hopefully I'll get some bids finalized, and I can select a contractor by the end of the week.  At least that part of my life is moving forward the way I want it.

I smiled sadly, the Majestic wasn't the only thing I wanted.  Oh god, I was one of those pining girls I've always made fun of.

I got out of the vehicle and headed toward the back door.  Brandon must have seen me pull up because he met me at the door and I tossed his keys to him.  In one smooth motion, he caught the keys in one hand and slipped them into his pocket.

I nudged my chin up in acknowledgment. “Thanks for the loan.”

He returned the gesture, and I hissed as I passed through the door as he held it open for me.  “The fuckin' suits fired Kar.”

I hesitated a bit when he replied, “We know.”

They knew?  Oh crap, had she called here looking for me?  Shit, my cell was off for my impromptu meeting at KVRL.  Had she tried calling me?  And I didn't answer.  There wasn't anything for it now.  Just then I had to rein in what was likely unholy chaos here.

I asked as I headed toward the Crib, “Where are they?”

He nudged a thumb toward the curtain.  Ah, the auditorium. I stepped toward the office, Kat and Bethany were leaning against the wall on either side of the door, texting away on their cells.  I grinned over the fact that they looked like sexy and edgy guards.

What were they doing out... Brandon interrupted my thought, “Umm, you don't want to be going in there.  She kicked us out while she does her thing.  The contractors are waiting their turn out there.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion as he led me past the door and out onto the stage.  “She, who?  What's going...”

I paused when I saw a group of contractors, not in the chaos I had imagined in my head, but all sitting quietly, writing on clipboards or on iPads.  I blinked and smirked at Brandon.  “I thought there'd have been more... friction.  And here I was going to apologize to you losers for leaving you to deal with them till I returned.  Who's brilliant idea was it to schedule them all at the same time?  That could have been catastrophic.”

He shook his head as I surveyed the group, some of them sitting up and taking notice of my presence, but they didn't stand.  A well-behaved lot they were.  “It was worse than you could possibly imagine.  I thought we'd have to call the cops in on a murder or two.”

He grinned. “But then she showed up, and kicked everyone's asses and got them all to shut up and sit down.”

Then he looked sheepish. “It was pretty awesome.  But I think she's taken over the Crib now.  We're all a little scared of her, and a little turned on.”

I just stared at him like you would an unruly dog making a mess in your kitchen, “Who, what, when, where, why, assface?  'The fuck is going on here?”

He grinned at my consternation as he idly flipped me off.  Then my heart stopped beating in my chest as I heard a voice that seemed to set off a tuning fork in my soul as Karmin walked out onto the stage with a balding contractor, saying with authority, “Thank you, Mr. McCallister, we look forward to your bid.  We'll be in touch.”

She hadn't noticed me as she stood in that same Major leather outfit as the prior night.  It was doing many many pleasant things to my body just then.  She looked at her iPad and called out, “Harrison Construction?”

She looked up with those mirrored sunglasses on, but then hesitated as she looked at me like she was frozen in indecision.  The man beside her almost meekly stepped away, gripping his hard hat brim in both hands as another burly man stood from the chairs and started eagerly forward.

I said just one word, “Karmin?”

She didn't look angry, or sad, or anything I would have expected from someone who I had just got fired.  Instead, she smiled and blushed cutely and held up a hand to stop me from babbling out some incoherent nonsense.  “Just a sec.  Let me finish with this group, then we can talk.”

She gave a toothy grin. “I'm sort of having fun here.”  She looked surprised at the admission.

I just stared at the woman who I swear should be animated, and she turned from me to look at the large contractor who came up the steps and up to her.  She shook his hand energetically, “Mr. Harrison, come on back.”

She almost had a skip in her step as she brought the man backstage, looking back over her shoulder and then squishing her head down to her shoulders as she bit the tip of her tongue when she smiled at me.

I looked at the curtain swaying where they had gone back, then at Brandon, “What the fuck just happened?”

He shrugged and smiled. “Dunno, though I'm pretty sure she's in charge now.  She stopped these people from tearing each other apart, and she organized an interview process on the fly.  Giving deadlines for bids and even has the mess in the office all squared away.  I think I'm in love.”

I backhanded his gut and grinned. “Hands to yourself, she's spoken for.”  Then a bit of Nala's insecurity brought me back to myself as I said in an unsure tone, “At least I hope so.”

He started chuckling and teased, “Good God, Na Na Evermore has been tamed by possibly the most adorably frightening woman on the planet.  How the mighty have fallen.”

I cocked an eyebrow in challenge, and he held up his hands in surrender, adding, “Hey, I don't see any negatives there.  And I'm pretty sure your feelings are reciprocated, otherwise why would she be pulling our collective asses out of the fire so handily?”

Huh.  My heart beat a little faster then I headed backstage.  Brandon calling after me, “Umm... I wouldn't go in there if I were you.  She told us all to stay out.”

I rolled my eyes at the chicken livered coward and opened the door as the girls looked at me like I had lost my mind for doing it.  I defended, “This is my office, I'll damn well go where...”  I hesitated when I looked in, and Karmin's head snapped over toward me, and she stared expectantly...

I closed the door carefully and said ruefully, “...as I was saying, I choose to stay out here while Kar does her thing.”

Bethany made a whip sound without even looking up from where her nose was buried in her cell.  Then they all chuckled as I muttered, “I hate you all.”

The rest of the morning was amazing to watch Karmin at work.  By lunch she had all the contractors squared away as they all started doing takeoffs on the structure.  They were warned by the tiny dynamo that the “same rules” applied as earlier, and they would be excused if she heard just one unprofessional grumble.

Then she hopped up to me.  No really, she actually hopped up to me, and it was beyond cute.  Then she stood on her toes to give me a quick peck on the lips as she said, “Feeeeed me, Seymour.”  Then her bubbly mood dampened a notch as she said, “After lunch, I have to work on my resume.”

My heart sank at that, but then I looked around at how efficiently she had controlled what I knew had to have been chaos.  An idea sprang to mind that would solve the current problem and the future headaches I saw coming as I took on more and more, especially with the renovation and everything that followed.

I got down on one knee, trying not to snort about the fact she was barely taller than me like that, and I took her hand.  Her eyeballs were bugging out as I asked, “Karmin Hughes, Kitty K-Hue, will you be my...”  Her eyes bulged further, and I finished, “...office manager?”

She exhaled in relief then started giggling as I took her glasses off.  Then she squinted one eye and squished her lips to one side of her face and asked thoughtfully, “Can I kiss the boss?”

I nodded enthusiastically and asserted, “That can be arranged.”

Then she stepped past me, her chin held up regally as she repeated, “Feed me, Seymour.  And I need a change of clothes.”

I noted the tease hadn't given me an answer.  She wasn't all sweetness and light after all, now was she?  And I wanted to get to know that part of her too.

I found myself heading after her and calling out through my huge smile, “Hey now, wait up shrimp!  Where's the fuckin' fire?”

I may have sighed when I caught up, and she reached up to take my hand.  This... is how it should be.

I held up a hand, palm out at my posse as they started to trail behind us, Spike had materialized from somewhere.  I hadn't seen him since I left this morning.  I glanced back and cocked an eyebrow.  They were nothing but smiles as they stopped following.  Ok, looks like the little Kitty here stole their hearts too.

What a fuckin' awesome day.

Epilogue

I had to smile at Karmin as she whined at her girl, “Nala, hurry up, it's thirty minutes to opening!”

Nala smiled at her.  The world couldn't have put together such a pair of opposites.  That's where my sister came in when she stole my meddling opportunity.  Sneaky Raggedy Ann butt.

Karmin was looking every inch Sakura from Naruto just then, in her red leather zip-up vest and pink skirt.  She was a stark contrast to the undisputed punk queen of Seattle.

Nala was looking extra edgy tonight with more black leather, black satin, and silver chains than I've ever seen her wear.  I was sort of in love with the amazing horsetail of shiny black hair that draped past her ass off her mohawk.  She'd been hiding that magnificent thing for years, but she wore it out on proud display to the world whenever Karmin was around.  The little anime lover was Na Na Evermore's kryptonite, and the world knew it.

The past eighteen months, they had grown inseparable while Karmin ran the renovation for Nala.  And also brokered a deal between the Ballyhoo Club and the Empire.  Every night except Friday and Saturday, when raves or concerts weren't booked at the Empire, it was going to be the Ballyhoo Edge.  A nightclub co-managed by Nala and Bonnie from the Ballyhoo, which would cater to the more extreme lesbian crowd that didn't quite fit the upbeat pop clientele of the Ballyhoo.

It was brilliant really.  It made sure that the Empire was always busy between professional raves and concerts.  They would spotlight the local talent of the underground punk and heavy rock scene, but also bring in top talent from all around the world.  The Empire was poised to make its mark in the entertainment world.

I had to smile at Karmin, she was vibrating with excitement.  I think she was even more excited about the opening of the Empire than Nala herself was.  I hadn't seen either of them so excited since the day Karmin moved into Nala's six months back.

They had dropped by the Pike before closing bell tonight with Madelyn and Danielle, to extend an invitation to Zoey and me to attend the grand opening of their fully restored theater.

Nala took her cue from her girl and stood straighter, towering over all of us in those thigh high leather boots of hers.  She looked over at Dani. “Hey little piggy, police escort?”

Danielle rolled her eyes, looking pretty hot herself out of her uniform, then made a weak siren sound as she flipped off a mischievous looking Nala.  I playfully covered my niece's eyes from such vulgarity. “Zeese eez not for zee Maximos to be weetnessing.”

She batted at my hand like a cat playing with a ball of string. “Aunt Eve, I've seen people flip someone off before.  Didn't you just do it to mom earlier today?”

I snapped a towel at her, and she just avoided it as I said, “That's different.  It was a symbol of my love for my witless sister.”

I squeaked when I was snapped in the butt by a towel from behind.  “You're such a bad influence on my spawn, Eve.”

Nothing is worse than a Zoey in stealth mode.  I rubbed my butt as I looked back indignantly and said, “We need to put a bell around your neck.”

I loved how playful my sis could still be at times as she stuck her tongue out at me.  Then I pointed at her accusingly, “You owe me one for stealing this chance at meddling, you sorry Raggedy Ann.”

She blinked innocently. “Me?  I'd never.  I just outmaneuvered you is all.  With age comes superior intelligence.”

I rolled my eyes at her and rebuked, “It was a thank you card, Einstein, great plan.”

She countered with, “Yet...” She nudged her chin toward the girls as Nala dipped her head over Karmin's to give her a quick upside down peck on the lips.

I shrugged even though I was smiling like a loon at the display.  My heart was high on the sugar display.  Maybe one day I'll find 'the one' too.  I pointed out, “You lucked out on this one, sis.  Maximum Overdrive agrees with me on this one.  Don't ya?”

Max looked between the women gearing up to leave and us, and she blushed and shrugged, “Actually, I think mom did good.”

I squeaked, “Betrayed I am!”  Then I looked around quickly and mimed pushing a button frantically with a finger.  Max got the hint as her eyes widened and she ran into the kitchen to emerge with the old school Polaroid camera.  She slid up to Zoey who took it and walked up to the girls and said, “Munster.”

They turned toward her with confused looks on their faces just to be blinded by the flash bulb.  She said like a pixie, “Thank you.  I needed to get you on our wall in the kitchen.”

They smiled at that, and then said their goodbyes as Dani lead them, making a lame siren howl as she walked.  I so wanted a police escort like that!

With that we looked around the almost empty place, the last couple customers were gathering their stuff.  Closing Bell was closing bell in the Pike.  The vendors couldn't sell anything after it sounded in the Market, it was one of the rules to clear out the tourists so the vendors could start breaking down their carts or tables and get out at a decent time.

As a brick and mortar business in the Post Street Alley Buildings, we were excluded, and we opened before opening bell for the vendors and people heading to work, but we held with the closing bell so that we would always get home at a decent hour ourselves.  Just about everyone in the buildings except the little grocery half way down the way kept Market hours.

I slipped off my apron and stretched as I locked the door behind the last customer just as we heard the distant ring of the bell.

I spun on the girls as Teddy poked his head out of the back room.  I always wondered why the kids would waste a perfectly good Saturday like this when they could be off making mischief.  I'm thinking it is because they like the little extra spending money they made on the weekend at their mom's place here.

I tossed my towel and apron at my niece as I started unlocking the door to slip out as Zoe came up behind me to lock it again. “Teddy Bear, Mad Max, it has been a pleasure.  But I need to dash home to get ready for the rave.  I...”  I let it hang for a moment, “...have a date for this one.”

I made a mad dash for it as the three of them battled their way into the hall, Max spluttering out, “A date?  Who?”  I bet Zoey was regretting turning down the offer to go to the opening, but she had a pre-planned date with her hubby.

I grinned back at them as I made a dramatic exit from the building without telling them anything.  Well, I rarely did.  I mean, I didn't want them getting attached to anyone unless it was the real deal.  So though my life was an open book to them, my dating life was the only thing I kept close to the vest.

I smiled when I thought about my date.  I called out to the world at large in a meek voice, “Who knows, maybe this one... is 'the one'?”

I virtually skipped to my car, I had to make myself look all punk-y and rock-y for the night.  I didn't want to disappoint our host, I mean she was Na Na florping Evermore after all.  I just wondered how I could make all my concentrated awesomeness look badass.

I giggled when I thought of Karmin standing at Nala's side, thinking that maybe I didn't need to go the badass route after all and just be me.  One hundred percent, accept no substitutions, Eve Courtney Delilah Rand.

The End

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Romance Novels by Erik Schubach

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Books in the Music of the Soul universe...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Music of the Soul

A Deafening Whisper

Dating Game

Karaoke Queen

Silent Bob

Five Feet or Less

Broken Song

Syncopated Rhythm

Progeny

Girl Next Door

Lightning Strikes Twice

June

Dead Shot

Music of the Soul Shorts...

(All short stories are standalone and can be read in any order)

Misadventures of Victoria Davenport: Operation Matchmaker

Wallflower

Accidental Date

Holiday Morsels

Books in the London Harmony series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Water Gypsy

Feel the Beat

Roctoberfest

Small Fry

Doghouse

Minuette

Squid Hugs

The Pike

Flotilla

Books in the Pike series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Ships In The Night

Right To Remain Silent

Evermore

Books in the Flotilla series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Making Waves

Keeping Time

The Temp (2017)

---------------------------------------------

Novels by Erik Schubach

----------------------------------------------

Books in the Techromancy Scrolls series...

Adept

Soras

Masquerade

Westlands (2017)

Avalon (2018)

Books in the Urban Fairytales series...

Red Hood: The Hunt

Snow: The White Crow

Ella: Cinders and Ash

Rose: Briar's Thorn

Let Down Your Hair

Hair of Gold: Just Right

The Hood of Locksley

Beauty In the Beast

No Place Like Home (2017)

Shadow Of The Hook (2017)

Books in the New Sentinels series...

Djinn: Cursed

Raven Maid: Out of the Darkness

Fate: No Strings Attached (2017)

Books in the Drakon series...

Awakening

Dragonfall

Books in the Valkyrie Chronicles series...

Return of the Asgard

Bloodlines

Folkvangr

Seventy Two Hours

Titans

Books in the Bridge series...

Trolls

Traitor

Unbroken

Books in the Fracture series...

Divergence

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Novellas by Erik Schubach

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The Hollow

Books in the Paranormals series...

Fleas

This Sucks

Jinx (2017)

Short stories in the Fixit Adventures...

Fixit

Glitch

Vashon (2017)

Descent (2017)

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Short Stories by Erik Schubach

(These short stories span many different genres)

-------------------------------------------------

A Little Favor

Lost in the Woods

Rift Jumpers: Faster Than Light

Scythe

Snack Run

Something Pretty

MUB (2017)

Sample chapter from Fate: No Strings Attached...

Prologue

I was there again, in that impossibly huge room, the ceiling soaring so high on the carved marble columns that I couldn't make it out.  The largest loom I had ever witnessed dominated the space.  It had to have been at least four stories tall.

But something was wrong.  I had the impression of it laying shattered and in ruins as the flames started to consume it.  The millions, if not billions of strands of pulsating, living light which led into the loom to create a fabric which brought me to reverent tears just trying to look directly at it, recoiled from the flames.

I screamed as I watched the fabric unravelling.  The impression of eons of work just falling apart.  Then I raised my arms defensively above me as, with a great crack and rumbling, the great loom shuddered and then collapsed down upon me.

The last thing I saw before I woke up screaming in bed again, was that blood on my hands.  The horror of it was that I knew that blood was not my own.

I sucked in shuddering breaths as the nightmare receded again, I desperately tried to cling to the fading memory of it.  It was all that I had, this nightmare.  It must mean something to the person I used to be.  Before whatever accident occurred that stripped my memories from me.  Was it a clue as to who I had been?  Some Freudian glimpse into the person I was in another life?

I stared at my sweat slicked skin, twisting an arm slowly in front of my eyes at the alien yet familiar appendage.  I was getting damn sick of not knowing who I was.  Not knowing if I was a good person or a bad person.  What had happened to me that I couldn't remember?  And why couldn't the police discover who the hell I was?

Come on, it couldn't be that hard.  I mean, someone had to be missing me somewhere.  Someone had to have filed a missing person's report in the past nine months.  Right?  I wasn't alone in the world... right?  I mean, I had to be someone.

It almost hurt to know that whoever I was, I apparently hadn't made a mark on the world enough that it even mattered.  The world spun on without me and nobody had even noticed.

I stared in morbid fascination at the impossible, as the ink that covered most of my body seemed to flow like smoke again, twisting and changing under my skin as the tattoos reformed themselves.  They were always moving and changing, morphing into various things.  As frightening as that was to my fragile state of mind, imagine just how terrifying it was that they always seemed to be appropriate for the things happening around me, as if the art was mimicking the life that went on around me.

It was a few days after I was found lying in an impact crater in the mountains before they started to show up on my skin as I got stronger after I was released from the hospital.  I've had to hide them ever since I first noticed them, and saw them moving.

I knew I had to be going insane but then I saw reports of flying women in San Francisco and Seattle.  Or the woman that some fishermen swear came up from the depths of the Pacific to save them from their sinking vessel and swim them to shore.

The world seemed to be changing, and getting stranger by the day, as it seemed that more and more unbelievable and inexplicable things were popping up all the time.

Maybe I was one of those things, but I couldn't tell you why.  I couldn't tell you much of anything.  Hell, I'd settle for my name.

“Sloan?”  My roommate, Enid called through the door.  “Are you ok?  You were screaming again.  The same nightmare?  Can I come in?”

I pulled the blankets up to hide the black ink on my body as it settled into its new configuration.  I smiled at the door.  Sloan was the name the hospital gave me because I was found laying in the charred crater on Sloan Peak in the Cascades in the middle of winter.  They thought it sounded better than calling me Jane Doe.  I didn't have a preference at the time, not knowing my real name, so the name sort of stuck.

Once I got out of the women's shelter the police had recommended until I could get a job and a place to live, I answered a want ad for a roommate her in Mount Vernon, Washington.  Enid looks like one would imagine.  Her parents did her no favors by naming her after her great grandmother.

She's sort of a mousy girl, but possibly the nicest person I have ever met.  Well let me rephrase that since I can't remember anyone before all this shit happened to me, she 'is' the nicest person I have ever met.  And once you get her talking, she's pretty funny and cute.

I've been working on helping her get a better wardrobe than the frumpy clothes she wore, and found I had an uncanny gift with scissors as I cut her mousy brown hair hair in a more trendy fashion.  I had this urge to protect the girl who was finally coming out of her shell.

I called out, “Come on in Eeen.  Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”

She opened the door, peeked in then scurried across my room to sit on the edge of the bed.  “Can you remember any more of the dream?”  Her eyes were wide with concern.

I patted her knee and shook my head.  “No, not really.  Just chaos, pain, fear...  I think there was a fire.”

She nodded encouragingly, “Well that's something new.”

Noting the time on my alarm clock by the bed, I grinned at her then pushed my sleep matted hair back out of my eyes and said, “Your turn to make breakfast, trouble.  I get the bathroom first today.”

She hopped up and grumped as she went out to the kitchen, “And here I was worried about you.”

I chuckled, neither of us liked cooking since neither of us were very good at it unless it was microwavable.  I expect I'll have a bowl of oatmeal or cereal waiting for me when I get done getting ready for my glamorous job as a records clerk in the downtown library.

Hey, I had no skills I was aware of and a person has to start somewhere.  Filing books and maintaining the lists for the librarians was the perfect fit for someone with no qualifications.  It was that or working fast food or being a barista.

I sighed as I trudged my sorry ass to the little bathroom in our tiny rental house.  I just hoped to whatever god may be watching and getting a good laugh at my expense, that I had a more glamorous job in my real life.

I wondered idly if Officer Lisbon had made any progress on finding out just who the hell I was.  It's all in the weave I guess.