Rich Bitch Brunch


lucrezia_icon.gif nalani_icon.gif nisha_icon.gif

Scene Title Rich Bitch Brunch
Synopsis Bring us Angela and our circle shall be complete.
Date March 1, 2009

Orchid Lounge

The Orchid Lounge, owned by the mother of Senator Nathan Petrelli, is an Asian-inspired martini bar lit by candlelight and the soft glow of wall sconces spaced evenly throughout the room. Although there aren't any employees at the door to check for identification, it's unusual to find anyone in the college-aged crowd at the Lounge, which caters to young professionals with plenty of extra money to burn. During the day, the plush burgundy drapes affixed to the windows are used to filter out the sounds of traffic and at night are drawn back to allow passersby a glimpse inside.

Seating is simple: clusters of rectangular tables fashioned from white marble, each with two leather benches parallel to the longest sides. Silk pillows in varying shades of red, brown, yellow and orange lend a splash of colour to the Lounge, vivid against the pale walls and black-painted cement floor. On one wall is a giant mirror with an intricately carved frame that reflects almost everything in the room and makes the space appear twice as large as it really is. Clearly, the proprietor of this establishment wanted to get her money's worth - real estate in this part of town isn't cheap!

While the Orchid Lounge isn't usually open for what might be considered "brunch hours" professionally, the combined sway (and income) of the three woman currently seated at a table situated dead center in the bar compelled the manager to make an exception to the rule. They have the place to themselves and the curtains remain drawn so as to allow them some semblance of privacy. The only employees present are a pair of waitstaff, a top chef and his assistant, and, of course, the manager, who lingers out of earshot but within visual range, just in case they might have need of him.

The white marble of their table is littered with plates of nibbled fruits and cheeses, bottles of champagne and carafes of juice in various shades of orange and pink, rolls and breads; the usual sort of spread for that mutable space between the morning meal and whatever the afternoon might have to offer.

Lucrezia eats unabashedly. The Sicilian blood coursing through her veins has no time for bashfulness when there's food to be enjoyed and she's been making all sorts of notorious noises while sampling the offerings, going so far as to has the chef brought out to be praised personally after he delivered a particularly good crème Brule. With a strawberry currently clutched between three fingers, she gestures to Nalani's cast and says, "I have to ask, carina… what happened to you?"

Thank you curtains. Can't let anyone see you actually eat. Not because of the whole 'oh, look at her weight' Nalani could care less. It's more than the paparazzi tend to take the pictures as your mouth is open and your putting that bite of food in your mouth. So you look like some bullfrog with bulgy eyes about to feast on some fly. Nalani hates the paparazzi. "My car got stolen and I was made to come down to the police station two days after, instead of sending my assistant, pulled me right out of a fundraiser for the Banded Cotinga" Said assistant is somewhere in the back, helping the staff anticipate Nalani's every desire and wish before she even voices it in her muddled English accent.

"This obnoxious woman objected to my behavior and decided to turn her hideous voice and attention on me. Accused me of being nothing but some flighty selfish bloody bitch and then when I nearly tripped in my laboutins, she had the audacity to crouch down and use a sweeping kick. I fell on my wrist" Nalani shakes her head. "The police are hoping I won't file some lawsuit against them since she was some civilian consultant or whatever. Pass one of those tarts would you please Nisha?"

Nisha delicately lifts the tray of tarts, rather than a singular one, and transfers it to a spot closer to the woman who is so like her in skintone and accent. She smiles as she does so, cordial yet concerned as she listens. "If you have witnesses, it would be a shame not too," she offers as legal advice. "At least in a civil suit. A wrist out of commission cannot make your work any easier, my dear." Nisha shakes her head slightly, pursing her lips in a silent sort of tut. "There is no excuse for such behavior, and you ought to be compensated."

Ever the consummate actress, Lucrezia runs the gamut of sympathetic and suitably horrified expressions while Nalani tells her tale of assault and woe all while sipping her mimosa and sampling from the tart plate that comes her way. "Someone kicked you… at the police station??" Okay, now that part of the story gets a genuine look of confounded shock.

"Kicked" Nalani pouts somewhat. "I should. I really should" Nalani looks to Nisha, plucking a tart with her casted hand. "I'll let you handle it. Make an appointment for filling out the necessary paperwork. Really, it was terrible. Horrible. And all this because someone broke into the trailer at the bloody photoshoot out in Greenwich. What is this City coming to. But, enough about me" There's a gesture at Nisha. "Time for Gossip from your corner. Speak. Lucrezia and I are dying to hear"

The lawyer looks surprised for a moment, but it passes quickly enough and is replaced by a smile. "Well, there isn't much to say. I'd be happy to take care of this matter for you - they'll likely settle, so there will likely be no courts. The office has been rather dull for the last few days, I must admit. I'm running out of ways to entertain myself."

"Anch'io," laments the former film star with lush red lips fresh from savoring what just might be the last strawberry left on the table. She affects a little pout and then follows up with, "I thought New York was supposed to be exciting… interesting… but I'm so bored…" Sospiro. "I've half a mind to go to this… what, Island of Staten? and see what all of the fuss is about. We could take a cruise. It could be an adventure!" Or a horrible, horrible idea that culminates in two of them being raped and murdered and left in a gutter somewhere while the other just sighs and finds a new pair of rich and influential friends. Lucrezia, however, is almost naive in her enthusiasm. Either that… or she's joking. Let's hope for the latter; she can't be serious about this.

"Of course they'll settle. I send in a shark like you and it will be dealt with in five minutes" The tart is nibbled then discarded onto her plate in lieu of a long pull from her sparkling cider. "I was thinking that myself. Sending a handful of my journalists out there. I could only imagine the stir that would occur if we all descended" Nalani leans in, her voice drops to low levels, everything hush hush despite that they're the only customers present. "I heard there's a fight ring there. Stephanie heard it from someone in mail who heard from a…" Nalani’s unplastered hand waves in the air as if shooing away some small bug. "Bicycle delivery what have you. Evolved" the last word is enounced carefully.

"You'd have to first imagine some safe way to get across the narrows onto to the island." Nisha pronounces the fact sagely, then pauses in order to indulge in a strawberry, then a sip of her own citrus concoction. There doesn't seem to be any more explanation coming, as Nisha seems more (though still only slightly) focused on her food rather than her company.

The silence only dances on the edges of becoming uncomfortable before Nisha speaks again. "Why send your journalists when you could easily write the piece yourself? It would carry a greater punch that way, I suspect. Though, of course, you would be putting yourself at risk either way."

"Not if she brought some big, strong men with her, eh, bella?" Winknudge winknudge. Lucrezia finds the urge to smile slyly irresistible as she notes with no shortage of familial pride, "We could bring il mio nipote, my nephew — such a dear — quite the young man…" There might be some irony in Lucrezia's statement if she was truly and entirely ignorant of the recent goings-on with her tesoro Teodoro but, odds are…

"I am sure he has friends who would not mind to join us. Who doesn't enjoy a little blood sport, hm?" No. Really. She says that.

"I'm not a journalist" But it wouldn't be the first time that she personally penned something more than a letter from the editor. But Nisha and then Lucrezia have laid it out there for her. "Would you both come with me? I can hire the necessary… beef, to guard us if need be. Would make for an interesting addition to April's issue" Lucrezia is fixed a look. "You still have yet to send your reply, I'm very disappointed. It was Doreen who thought to add you to the list of 'gems'" Nalani's lips moue slightly. "Bring your nephew. I didn't know you had family here. Or I would have.. tried to seduce him when I had the chance"

A look passes from Nisha to Lucrezia, but it is short-lived as the Indian woman turns her head to partake of her drink once again. "I will endeavor to find out when the next event shall take place and will notify the both of you. But I would be remiss if I didn't warn you that it might be for the best if you were to disguise yourselves as members of a slightly lower socioeconomic class. To blend in a bit would be the desired effect."

"It'll be fun!" Lucrezia exclaims in a very subdued fashion. She's wearing a wolfish grin and adds, "I don't mind dressing down in order to find a little fun." Says the woman wearing the two thousand dollar Dolce & Gabbana suit. For the barest instant, there's a dangerous fire that blazes behind Lucrezia's dark eyes when Nalani dares to tease about having her way with Teo — mommy mongoose senses a cobra too close to the den — but it dies quickly as she takes a thumb and gently curls it beneath the magazine mogul's chin. "Non, bella, ma non… you would break his heart," she says with a put-on pout. She's kidding, of course, but there's still a lingering hint of something in her look that suggests such a topic might be considered dangerous ground. "Besides," she notes, recalling her hand in order to again grasp her mimosa. "…he's in a boy phase right now, carina, you know how it goes…" Does she? Does anyone? Is that supposed to be normal or something for Italian men??

And, just like that, the actress pretends as if nothing at all inappropriate or unusual was just brought up and takes a sip of her champagne and juice cocktail before allowing her gaze to roam over to Nisha, whereupon she begins to make an obvious contrast and compare session between her two tablemates. "You both have such beautiful skin. I'm jealous. What's your secret?"

"Your boy is safe from me. You weren't listening closely enough. I said when I had the chance. That chance has passed. I'm.. somewhat off the market one might say" There's a wink to the pair before she goes for her water again. "ladies.." Nalani runs the tip of her tongue across her lower lip. "I found myself a man" A fully satisfied, cat ate the bowl of cream look. "Doctor. Mohinder Suresh" Famous name alert!

"And where did the two of you run into one another?" Nisha asks with a shocked sort of smile and that wide-eyed, hungry-for-more look so common amongst the hens at the fence row. This means, of course, that Nalani's exploits will be the topic of further discussion, and not Nisha's own much more clandestine companion.

Lucrezia's a little too self-involved to have much of a clue as to who, exactly, Mohinder Suresh is or why this is supposed to be a big deal except for, you know, the obviously Indian-sounding name. That's probably what it is. "Complementi!" the Italian woman declares, toasting her companion with a lift of her chin before guzzling the remains of her mimosa with renewed enthusiasm.

After all, lucky is love Lucrezia is most certainly not. While Nalani waxes romantic, Lucrezia pretends to remain attentive but instead ends up staring somewhat blankly into the wall of mirrors across from their table, thoughts blurring distractedly elsewhere… elsewhen… conjuring up the ghost of a love lost not so long ago…

"Mi manchi, amore," Lucrezia utters silently to her own reflection in her reverie before a particularly pealing piece of laughter from Nalani snaps her back into reality.

March 1st: We Live In A Dangerous World
March 1st: Present Tense
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