All of this... Misunderstanding

Participants:

gigi_icon.gif jessica_icon.gif

Scene Title All of this… Misunderstanding
Synopsis Mafia Princess Gigi Civella approaches Jessica about a job…
Date September 3, 2008

Exotica


Exotica on a Wednesday night. Not usually one of the big moneymakers, and after her rotten night last night, Jessica'd debated taking it off. But instead, she's working out her frustration. She's forgone the "normal" stripperwear (if there is such a thing) for black leather; corset, thigh high boots and the like. Tonight is apparently dominatrix night for Jessica, and it gives her a chance to work out some tensions.

Wednesday night may not be a big night, but the small crowd does afford the girls who dance the stage the chance to pay a little bit more… individualised attention to their clientèle. Specifically out of place tonight is sitting front and centre, watching Jessica's every move. And with interest.

Not that it's entirely unusual to see a woman at Exotica that isn't there dancing, or maybe trying to bond with a boyfriend, it's just… Well, they usually look more nervous or giggle more than that. This woman, dressed somewhere between Decked Out To Barhop and JUST Tasteful Enough For a Cocktail Lounge, is clearly of Italian descent. Long, dark hair shines in the low lighting, complimenting olive skin and deep brown eyes… that roam the length of Jessica's body absolutely shamelessly.

The blonde has seen a few women around Exotica this week. They're not unknown, it's just that most of the ones they get are there with their boyfriends, using it as a turn-on, or they're batting for the other team. And it doesn't take too much for her to notice the Italian woman, who is a little overdressed for Exotica. Jessica moves up towards her, putting a sway to her step. "Hello there." Dealing with horny guys is easy. This is more a challenge.

"Hiya, doll." Does the accent get any more stereotypical? The woman leans forward and the light plays off the soft features of her face. It also highlights the beginnings of fine wrinkles and laughlines, putting her perhaps in her early thirties. A twenty is slipped into Jessica's corset. "My name's Gigi. What's yours?" Gigi. The angles of her face are all too perfect. The heritage just seals the deal. Giovanna Civella, daughter to Frankie. One perfectly arched brow quirks upward. It's hard to tell if her playfulness is actual flirtation or simply all part of some game.

Jessica makes note of the identity, and doesn't move to touch the money, yet. Instead, she gives a slow turn, designed to let Gigi get a good look at her…and at the same time, to let Jessica look around the room to see if there are patented Bodyguard Mooks keeping an eye out. This could be business, or Business. Once the turn is finished, she looks back. "I'm Jessica. What brings you by tonight, Gigi?" She grabs a chair and turns it around, sitting astraddle over it, leaning over the back as she looks to the other woman.

"You do." Gigi reaches out to touch a lock of blonde hair, but stops just short. Rules exist for a reason, and this isn't her turf. She's got to respect the rules. Instead, another twenty is slipped to the stripper, this time tucked into her boot. "You see, I think you might be just the kind of person I'm looking for. How would you like to earn five thousand dollars for doing just a teensy little favour?"

Ahhh. So it's Business. With a capital B. Jessica's "stripper demeanor" seems to mostly melt away, as she sits up straighter in the chair, her expression hardens a little, and she looks back at Gigi, looking much more the assassin now despite the leather fetish outfit. "Depends what the favor is. But you've got my interest. Tell me more."

"I thought you were sexy when you were wearing that pout, but this…" Gigi leans forward, "That's more like it." She grins, widely. "I have myself a problem with a name. You see, someone's spreading some awful lies about my father. He's a respectable business man, you know. To have his name dragged through the mud is… intolerable." Out of the corner of Jessica's eye, she notices a man watching the two with keen interest. It doesn't look like he's just hoping to see a makeout fest, though. Possibly one of those Prerequisite Mooks that weren't readily identifiable earlier. "I just want to have a chat with this lying sack of crap. But, you see, I can't exactly just go pay a visit. You understand, don't you Jessica?"

The blonde nods. She does, indeed, seem to understand. Or at least, $5,000 buys you a lot of understanding. "I do. I think I can manage to get you a nice quiet visit, Gigi. Or if you'd rather I bring him a message from you, I can do that too." Kidnapping or asswhipping, either's on the table. Murder costs more, but she doesn't insult the Mafia princess by mentioning it. They both know the market.

"All I want to do is talk. All of this… misunderstanding." Gigi leans back in her chair with a 'what is this world coming to?' sort of expression. She procures a fifty from her purse. "I'd hate to see someone get hurt, you know? Not one hair on anybody's head." That's not an declaration of sympathy, of course. It's an order. Kidnapping, and not a mark on the victim. "Those cops have their work cut out for them, I think. But they've got it all wrong. I do worry about their safety. Someone might say the wrong thing, jump to the wrong conclusion…" No knocks for the victim, but cops are fair game. "Now, Jessica…" The fifty is delicately folded the long way before Gigi slips a finger between Jessica's hip and the strap of her thong to deposit the bill there. "I want you to give me one last little turn, and then I want you to go into the back to take a quick break and count your money. You earned it, doll. Don't you let your manager touch it. I'd be very upset if someone tried to stiff a pretty little thing like you."

Jessica smiles a bit. "Anybody tried to take something from me that they didn't have coming…that would be a mistake." She doesn't worry about getting stiffed on her tips. "Just one last thing, Gigi. This person who's spreading all these lies…this name. Wouldn't want there to be any…confusion." She doesn't stand for the turn…not quite yet. That might mean having to talk louder, and some words are best not overheard.

"Go on and count your cash, honey." There's a glint in Gigi's eyes as she gives the order, then draws a little circle in the air. Let's see that spin, sweetheart. "You're a bright girl. There won't be any confusion." Some words are best left unspoken when one wants to avoid being overheard.

Oh, she hates taking orders, too. But when the boss is paying the dime, they call those shots. She used to smile and be respectful to Linderman too, for the same reason. None of it reaches her face, and she stands, giving a coy little smile, and then gives Gigi a ssssslllllooooowwwww turn. Enough that she can drink in any sights she wants. $5,000 not only buys you a kidnapping, but general looking rights. Or maybe that's the copious tipping. She moves to start towards the back then, as told. Not that she needs to count tips…but she has Business to tend to.

Inspection of the bills tipped to her by Giovanna Civella reveals that someone's had fun with a felt-tipped pen. The twenty from the corset has the address of an apartment complex scrawled across it. The twenty in the boot, a name: MacKenzie Myers. And her apartment number. And the fifty? That has another address entirely. Presumably the address where Jessica should be bringing Miss Myers in order to collect her cash. Once unfolded, the fifty also reveals a phone number and a kiss of lipstick. Call me!


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September 3rd: Remembrances
Previously in this storyline…
Here Be Dragons

Next in this storyline…
Followup

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September 3rd: I Need Help
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