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@augustrcssi
mila-blackshaw:
“If you need an appointment please speak to my assistant sitting at the desk you walked passed.” Mila said without looking up from her files. The case load that had been stacked on top of her had made her even more cranky than usual and unplanned visits were not on her agenda today. Realizing the person hadn’t left, she finally sighed and looked up.
“Can I help you?”
If he were to write a memoir on how he got where he was, August would make the first chapter about having the right kinds of friends, both in high and low places. As much as he had his ties to the mob to do the dirty work when needed, August had close relationships with judges and lawyers, doctors and other politicians that could pull the other half of the strings that kept the world moving and dancing. Getting those friends was a start, but keeping them was the hard work, which was why half of August’s schedule was lunches and dinners with important people, but every so now and then he managed to have a lunch that was just for his own enjoyment, not political gain.
It was the reason he showed up to Mila’s office, though she seemed too busy to notice him, otherwise he would have been sure she’d be happier to see him than she sounded. “You can drop the ‘business voice’ and give me a hug for a start.”
pixtro:
“I got some money burnin’n my pocket and some spare time— why not?” He inquired. He was certain it was the truth— about the earning thing— but he was bored, and often when he got bored, he wanted to push people to their limits. Pizza-eating wasn’t one of his best, but it was better than nothing. Maybe a younger target. Three hundred must’ve seemed like pocket change to the man. “I stopped going to those clubs when I wasn’ able ta’touch ‘em. They got strict rules.” It didn’t stop him from getting handsy with some of the dancers, but he was tired of the same old dull routine. Sex clubs were rare and you really needed to be an insider to know where to go but contracting something wasn’t on his bucket list. He paused. “The fuck I need friends for?”
Even though it looked like he wasn’t, August was listening. What he got from the young man’s little speech was that he didn’t realize the value of an investment, which to August meant that the young man lived like he was going to die tomorrow, which mean he probably didn’t think he had a future. It was sometimes too easy to psychoanalyze people, August not always right, but having a feeling that in this case, he was. “ You don’t like rules.” He stated, not really a question but an assessment as he took another bite. “ Eh, that’s alright -- when I was young I wanted to touch a lot too -- you get older and you learn the value of a tease though. “ He noted with a smirk, nodding to himself. “ Look kid -- I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life, ‘cept I am. You got money burning hole in your pocket and your first instinct it to waste it on something for instant gratification? That right there is why you need friends. That lone wolf shit? Doesn’t get you a damn thing -- sure it may look good to some, but everybody needs friends, even if it’s to tell you not to do stupid shit like spend three hundred bucks on a pizza bet. when you could invest in a good suit. Why a suit? Because looking the part is half the battle. A good suit can get you into anywhere, and once you’re inside the places you wanna be, there’s nothing stopping you from owning the place. Why do you wanna own it? Because the only thing better than having three hundred dollars is using it to make three hundred more.”
julianajacobson:
The last thing she expected when stopping in was to be offered a trial slice. “You really are confident if you’re giving away free slices,” she joked before stepping closer. Maybe it was worth taking him up on it. After all, it was just for her. She had to take advantage of pizza orders before her daughter was on solid food and she had to accommodate a child’s taste buds. “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said before taking a small slice of the pizza. It definitely seemed to have everything and smelled absolutely heavenly. One bite was all she needed to know that pizza was exactly what she’d order for dinner. it was fantastic. More toppings than she’d usually go for, but it worked. After swallowing, she looked at him with a smile. “I hope you’re getting a commission for the extra pizzas that thing will sell,” she joked. “It’s incredible. You weren’t wrong.”
“I am, but I also hate wasting food.” He chuckled. “ If I’m really feeling gluttonous I can push myself to eat five slices before regret kicks in and I think about how much time I’ll have to spend at the gym and sop myself, but there there are those leftovers that just don’t taste right when you warm ‘em back up.” With a smile, August gestured to the seat across from him. “ Please, sit. Eat. I’ll feel less like a creep if I’m not sitting here alone with this whole pie.Plus you have a little waiting to do for yours, I assume?” As he started in on his second slice, the woman’s wit made him laugh enough to choke a bit, gulping water to wash it down before laughing freely. “ Oh, I like you. You’re funny. “ He shook his head. “ If I could get that kind of endorsement deal they wouldn’t even have to pay me in money -- just pizza.” August shrugged. “ It’s not every day I get told that I’m right about something, either. You’re a good one.”
ravennarinaldi:
“Not at all, Signore.” Ravenna made her presence known as she approached the State Senator, her own heavily guarded dogs lingering far enough away for her to speak with him. “I suppose I’m merely interested in why you would dine here when my darling son has such a wonderful italian ristorante in the city. It’s to die for.”
There was a smirk on his face when Ravenna came into view, old world manners kicking in as August wiped his hands and stood, moving to the other end of the table to pull out a chair for her. “ There are some things money can’t buy, bellissima. Believe it or not, a fancy restaurant just can’t do a pizza justice. People what what they’re paying for and when you try to add truffle oil and gold flakes it just ruins what a pizza is supposed to be: simple, organic, a little taste of home.” He smiled before taking his seat again. “ The real question is what you’re doing here. Is it too arrogant of me to assume you came all this way to see me? And should I be worried if you did?”
gendubois:
“Because I know you well enough to know when you’re full of shit.” Honestly, Gen didn’t know why she was throwing a fuss. There was no confusion about what this was – she provided a service and he paid for it. It was a simple as that. What August did was little to none of her concern, even if him parading around Atlanta with a new woman on his arm did rake her nerves more than she’d ever admit. August wasn’t the first politician or man of power she’d been entangled with, and she had no naive delusions of what this was outside of the bathroom. There was no way a Senator could be seen with the owner of a burlesque who had ties to the mob (not that August was aware of that part) and was a Madame slash prostitute. That reveal would be one career ending headline.
As he stepped closer, Gen’s eyes drifted down his frame – annoyed that even when she was irritated with him, he still managed to look devilishly good looking. “Sound like what? The truth?” Gen countered with an arched brow, closing the distance between them with a few steps. “Who else? Oh, I’m sure there’s some debutante…model…whoever is the flavor of the week you can shower with gifts.” She pointed out, fingers moving to undo the first few buttons of his shirt. “I’m not like every woman you fuck, we both know that, Auggie.”
“Genny...” He sighed, a little frustrated that she was doing this in spite of him actually trying. August never let anyone get too close -- not a woman he was sleeping with, at least -- it was not only dangerous but just plain stupid. And yet, even though he knew better, someone time had worn him down, not sure if it was her wit and charm or a hidden, deeply buried need for companionship that kept August coming back to Gen at the end. “ One of these days I sweat you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? You know it isn’t like that -- it isn’t just that. We’re...you’re my.... We’re friends, aren’t we? Kind of...?” He paused after, realizing how awkward that sounded and how bitter and dry it left his mouth. “ You can’t say that after a decade we aren’t a little more than business partners.” He tried, but had a feeling his smooth recovery was lacking.
“Since when do you care who--” August paused when delicate hands reached out to undress him slowly, Gen knowing his weaknesses a good and bad thing when it came down to the nitty gritty. If this was an argument -- which it wasn’t - he would have no way of winning. “ Since when do you give a fuck who I fuck? You fuck around and I never get upset about it so why are you acting like your boytoys are any different from whatever model I’m taking out? It’s not like I’m putting a ring on anyone’s fingers. You’re acting like you’re jealous... What, are you jealous?”
Of course he understood the irony that a song called ‘Womanizer’ played in the elevator on the way down to the lobby of the hotel, but rather than make him feel guilty, August laughed. Anyone in his position would have enjoyed the spoils the same way he did, and though he could have been a little more discreet about it, he would openly ask where the fun in that was if he was asked. He was still young in his eyes in spite the media shaming the politician for not having a family at forty. It made him look questionable to have a different woman on his arm every weekend, but he was a rockstar politician, not boring enough to be tied down and not sure he’d ever be ready for kids and a dog running around the lawn.
Of course, the downside was that he couldn’t really date as openly as he wanted. He had too many bones in his closet and should the wrong woman open the door, it’d be too much of a mess even for him. Thankfully, there were escorts. What was better than beautiful, well dressed women who kept their mouths shut and put out at the end of the night? They were an addiction, really, his ego loving being seen with stunning ladies who laughed at whatever he said and made him look as good as his suits. And with a bevy of them, he never got bored. Tonight was an exotic little number he picked for himself that he hoped would live up to the hype, make him look desirable and all in all be the perfect date for whatever stupid event this was that he had to go to. The doors opened and he didn’t have to look far, spotting her and grinning as he walked towards her. “ Punctual. I like that. Camille, right?”
@camillexwells
I Walk the Line - Johnny Cash (With His Hot and Blue Guitar, recorded 1956)
pixtro:
“Been tryin’ta use bigger words at least three times a day. You, unfortunately, stumbled upon the day I got to the letter ‘M’,” he sighed, taking a bite in tandem with the man across from him, almost habitually. “Weak, anyway. Commit,” he jibed, a loose smile hanging off the edge of his lips. “Just a medium. I’ll give you three hundred if you eat it all in one sitting.”
Nodding as the kid went on about some word of the day thing, August took another bite and washed it down, pausing when the kid’s dare was issued. August laughed. “ Are you....Are you serious right now?” The Senator chuckled, pausing to look down at the expensive Italian suit that he could afford to throw away if it got a stain on it, then back at the challenger. “ Kid... I mean know offense but I make more in a week than you’ll make in the next five years. You really think I’m gonna make myself sick over a frat boy’s bet for a measly three hundred dollars? “ While he admired the kid’s moxy, his effort to entertain himself by throwing around money was not only misguided but used on the wrong person. “ If you’re that desperate to throw away cash, you ever heard of strippers? You lose money, get entertained and rest at night knowing you paid a single mother’s bills for the month. And it's a great way to make friends. You seem like you could use some. “
The incident had everyone up in arms -- Atlanta was supposed to be a safe place for families and the elderly and whatever other garbage they said about it, so how could this happen? Everyone-- including August himself -- was chiming in and making statements officially and on their social media, the panic obvious as they wondered what came next. While the others were in their offices figuring it out, August was heading down to Dom’s restaurant to ask that same question. It wasn’t public or common knowledge where his support came from, and August often acted like he was king of the world, but when it came right down to it, he knew who was pulling his strings and why, and if something was going down with the Italians, then it threatened his career and livelihood as well.
He should have gone to the top, but August was a man with his own success front and center in his mind, and he had long since felt the winds changing. If Dominic was really making a power play, it would only benefit August to be on his side if that play worked out in Dominic’s favor. Heading inside, August was guided to the back, passing through the kitchen and placing an order before knocking on the door, waiting a moment, then entering Dom’s office. “ Hey there, Dom. How’s it going?” He casually opened with as if it were something to joke about. “ So....who fucked up?”
@dommcretti
pixtro:
“I wasn’t asking,” he vocalized, a half-eaten slice of original in front of him as well as a can of soda (vanilla coke) off to the side. “How people can finish an entire pie to ‘emselves is fuckin’ malarkey, man. Obviously not gonna stuff that entire thing down’n one sitting, but gotta give props for the implication,” he rused, deep chocolate haze unmoving. “Unless you do plan on stuffin’ it down, then— props anyway.”
“Malarkey?” August snorted. What was this guy, a leprechaun? Chuckling to himself, August bit into a slice with a smile. “Suit yourself kid.” After savoring the taste, he set it down to reach for his drink. “ Eating a whole pizza buy myself isn’t worth three hours at the gym giving my old heart reason to clock out on me. It’s the reason they have boxes so you can take what you don’t eat home. The wonders of modern living, am I right?” August chuckled to himself. The kid’s ‘implication’ was way off, but August wasn’t going to question his wit just yet over a half baked assumption -- kids these days just liked to mouth off, it didn’t bother him.” The say they figure out how to make three slices of my particular order I’ll stop ordering a whole pie.”
gendubois:
Nowadays, her clientele list was at a minimum. A few choice regulars who’d been good to her over the years and paid well enough for Gen to keep coming back – even if she didn’t need the money or have to spread her legs to maintain her extravagant lifestyle. August was one of those people and, despite her better judgement, Genevieve still found herself in the expansive penthouse suite. While Gen lauded herself at being a strong, independent woman not even she could turn down a big dick and expensive gifts. Still, after all these years, she found herself entitled to being a little peeved at how he decides to waltz back into her life. The box is closed shut, peering at the man over her shoulder with a blank expression.
“This…” The object is raised in the air for emphasis. “Implies that you have something to be sorry about or that you miss me.” Her body then fully turns to look at the man, moving a few steps to it on the nightstand. “I thought were past pleasantries, August. You don’t need to woo me to fuck me, just pay me.”
“It’s the latter, what’s wrong with that?” It was the former. Admittedly he’d gotten caught up with work and various other women, and maybe it was a few weeks....or months that he hadn’t seen her. But it wasn’t like it had been a year....had it? “ Look it’s the gift for the sake of giving gifts. I was passing by the store, saw it, thought it’d like nice on you and so I got it for you.” He said it like it wasn’t a big deal, but August knew that throwing money around on jewelry for a former prostitute was the kind of thing that scandals were made of. The only reason he didn’t care worth a damn about getting caught was because he knew who was watching his back. Any reporter trying to seek a story with his name in the title would be found cold on a pile of trash bags near a dumpster behind a McDonald’s before they even had a chance to wrote their name. August was more afraid of Gen’s cold shoulder than a tabloid finding a receipt in his trash.
“Oh c’mon on, baby, don’t make it sound like that. I got busy -- you get busy too, but you know you’re my best girl. Don’t make it sound like that.” August cooed, daring to move in closer and test the water with her. Of course he didn't mind paying for it, but after the years they’d known each other, he hated her mentioning it. “ Don’t act like you’re too grown up to be wooed a little. Every woman deserves to be wooed. Besides, who else would I do all this for, huh? At least give me some credit here for trying.”
violetgallagher:
Violet grinned. “Let’s call it right place right time,” she told him. He seemed nice enough. More the type to drink the coffee and not the kind she’d have to throw it in his face. That was a plus. She held out the extra cup to him and shrugged one shoulder. “Honestly, you don’t need to give me anything. Just spreading the goof fortune forward. Karma and all that stuff, right?” Violet didn’t believe in that garbage at all, but it made sense to her. “What is it they say about doing nice things for people?” She honestly didn’t have a clue.
“Well lucky me then.” August smiled broadly as he accepted the cup, hoping it was black and void of any caramel or vanilla nonsense people loved to put in their coffee these days. “ You’re a sweetheart, really, but I gotta give you something in return, even if it’s just polite conversation.” As he flashed her his charming trademark ‘Politician’ grin, August was studying the woman’s face. She wasn’t one hundred percent his type, but most who really knew him would argue that his type was every beautiful woman regardless of the color of her hair, the hue of her eyes or the tint of her skin. And to an extent, they’d be right.Patting the space next to him, August welcomed the woman as he sipped his coffee and gave a pondering expression as though he was deep in thought. “I believe it’s something along the line of do onto others as you’d have them do onto you.” He grinned, pausing for a moment. “My mother was a Catholic. Devout.” He nodded to himself. “ But it’s the same principle, really, no matter if you call it God or karma -- you do nice things and put them out there and they’re returned to you. Sometimes their returned in even greater ways. Like for example, you offered me a a free coffee so I offer you a free dinner. Tonight, if you’re free. You like Italian?”
julianajacobson:
There were times when Juliana forgot what it was like to make time for herself. Between her daughter and her job there were very few moments when she could. Her plan had been to stop in and pick up a pizza to take home before picking up her daughter for daycare, but upon getting there the scent of his pizza distracted her. It looked fantastic, but wasn’t her usual choice in pizza. When he spoke she realized she’d probably intruded on his moment and half laughed. “Oh, that wasn’t my question. Though I’ll admit seeing that has me rethinking my pizza order for tonight. Is it as good as it looks?”
“It’s amazing. “ August grinned, sizing the woman up before returning his gaze to his food. He could never help himself, but the one thing that could distract him from a woman was food. And he was starving. “ I mean, you can never go wrong with pizza, but it’s got everything you need: meat, veggies, a little heat, little kick once you throw some red pepper flakes on top -- it’s the perfect pie.” He chuckled, folding a slice and taking a bite to prove how good it was. “ Oh any that crust. You can’t get that from chain pizza, you gotta go authentic. Go on,grab a slice and see if you like it. Free of charge. It’ll be worth it just to see the look on your face when you realize it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
evelyn-nayak:
Never a dull moment in Atlanta, and while Evelyn was now out an interview, possibly having to replace her heels, and new ankles depending on how bad the sore muscles settled in tomorrow—she needn’t had considered before this that one of the State Senators would be eating ice cream. Stalling, a little out of breath, and willing to skip the gym for the next couple days or so. Finally focused, tilting her head. “I could, I ordered one—but I missed it.” A lull. “Really, Senator? In the state of a Me Too rebellion, commenting on my legs probably isn’t the best.” Not that she was planning on using it. She was a dignified journalist. “I work within the Media industry.” And she stepped forward, offering a hand. “Though I like to report on bigger news—Evelyn Nayak—CNN Correspondent.”
Most men in his position would have panicked but August only smiled. The way she announced her credentials was probably meant to intimidate, but nothing worried August with the Mob behind him. " " The me too rebellion? Is that what you see it as? " He laughed. " The Resistance fighting against the tyrannical control of the First Order is a rebellion. Me Too is a human rights movement stopping men who think they have rights to women's bodies from molesting them. And last time I checked, complementing a feature isn't sexual molestation any more than saying that you're pretty or a woman telling a man on the beach that he has great abs is. Unless you aren't the feminist type and thinks only men complementing women counts as harassment but a woman talking about Magic Mike's abs if fine. Of course I didn’t mean to offend you but, isn’t the whole purpose of why women wear heels to enhance the beauty and shape of their legs? I mean, heels in their infancy were for men in high status to make them taller, but women women don’t have the same need that men do to appear taller and since they have no other functionality and you’re rather tall already, I wonder why you would put yourself through the discomfort of high heels other than to feel like you look good which boosts one’s confidence. And looking good of course leads to compliments... Sorry, I got carried away. August Rossi -- but you already knew that.” He smiled, shaking her hand.