After months of struggling to find a stable job in L.A., Lux finally gets her big break: as a personal assistant for a rapper she's never heard of: Skate Maloley. Considering the record label is paying her well, she strives to ignore his constant ar...
"I don't see how we're gonna pay for all this," I said, looking at the pile of clothes I said 'yes' to.
"Lux, it's called American Express," Elijah scoffed. "You'll be getting paid soon, not to mention I'm already making bank considering my PR firm is about to do an event for one of those Love & Hip-Hop housewives...we got this. Besides, it's only money. It'll come, it'll go, it'll come again."
"I don't know man."
"Will you quit being such a worry wart? You look hot in these, therefore they belong in your closet. And can you imagine the looks you'll get when you pull up with his coffee & breakfast? He'll be at your fucking feet."
"Oh, did I mention I'll be cooking his breakfast tomorrow? His friend Mike said it's my bootleg initiation to see if I could hang. These guys don't take me professionally seriously." I toss another shirt into the pile of the fitting room area's couch.
"Cooking in a tight pencil skirt...hmm, ideas."
"Elijah," I groaned. "I'm not trying to get in his bed. I'm trying to build my credentials so I don't have to move back in with the parents. There's so much more to me than the curvature of my ass."
"That's so true babe," he nodded with his arms crossed. "But who said you can't do both?"
I rolled my eyes. "Anyway...I need an outfit for tomorrow night. I haven't been to a club since college."
"I'm on it." Elijah had a devious smile on his face and I knew I was about to step entirely out of my element.
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The next day, I showed up at Nate's carrying three Starbucks vanilla iced coffees; one for him, one for Swazz, and one for Rupp who apparently spent the night. I also came bearing groceries from Trader Joe's. Nate told me the only things he had in his fridge were alcohol and leftover Chinese takeout. I couldn't really make a good breakfast with those ingredients.
I dressed right this time. No business pants, no uncomfortable blouses and no pumps. It took me 5 minutes to get the spare house key out of my bottomless new backpack. Expected, the house smells like pot and vanilla scented candles. I open all the blinds in the living room and head to the kitchen. I've been cooking ever since I was 9 years old. My grandmother taught me all I needed to know about home cooking. My mother was always so busy working that she rarely had the time to cook every single day. Needless to say, I grew up on Chef Boyardee and Kid Cuisines.
Within half an hour, I had the house smelling like bacon and seasoned breakfast potatoes. I knew that would surely get the boys out of bed and it worked. Rupp was the first to enter the kitchen, then Swazz, and lastly the man of the hour. They didn't believe in shirts in the morning but I didn't complain.
"Damn lil mama," Nate said as he looked across the counter at what was already done.
"There's an iced coffee for each of you in the fridge," I informed him, blatantly ignoring the slight chill his morning voice gave me. "Nate, I got a call from the label this morning, you have a meeting at 2 PM sharp then a fitting for tomorrow's photoshoot at 4:15."
