angelic_gabe (angelic_gabe) wrote in shadowlands_ic, @ 2017-06-02 19:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | gabriel allen, kaya washington |
Who: Gabriel Allen, Kaya Washington
What: Employee check-in
Where: Miss Lydia's
When: 1st June, 1888 [Slight backdate]
Rating: PG
Gabriel tended to leave the day-to-day operation of Miss Lydia’s to his rather capable manager; he’d known Lydia for decades now, and the two understood one another quite well. He trusted her explicitly, and she, in turn, repaid that trust tenfold by running the place in a way that met his rather high standards.
Still, he did like to make sure the trains were running smoothly. Happy, satisfied employees made good employees, and in this particular profession, that tended to make a world of difference.
Gabriel was an expert at compartmentalizing his life -- it was rather necessary in his case. Being in business was vulgar enough in certain circles, let alone having one of those business ventures be a brothel, but Gabriel was nothing if not practical -- the requirement that a true gentlemen should be wealthy enough to merely live off his interest alone was difficult for someone who lived for centuries and had equally long-lived children to provide for, and he enjoyed the process of building and owning a successful business -- especially one that could fill a need for several of his people.
He was currently sitting in his office tucked away on the first floor, going over the books, tapping a pencil against the ledger as he double-checked Lydia’s figures for the last month’s earnings. They looked quite reasonable given the time of year.
A few short raps on the thick oak office door announced the presence of someone Gabriel had been expecting. Since Miss Lydia dropped the word that the boss man wanted to have a word earlier that day, Kaya did her best to make sure her schedule accommodated time for whatever conversation was to come- preferably after the specialty of the evening had been prepared and before the nightfall’s business came rolling in.
Gabriel looked up, giving her a smile and a nod. “Kaya. Good. Come in, sit down? Thank you for stopping by.”
Werewolves didn’t stay terribly long at Miss Lydia’s, but Kaya was proving an exception to that particular rule -- she’d been there for nearly five years. She was also working at a prodigious rate -- taking shifts in the kitchen in addition to working upstairs and performing in the occasional concert -- and from experience, that level of effort tended to have reason behind it, and didn’t tend to be terribly sustainable, either.
Still in the relatively plain dress suitable for mulling and mucking around in the kitchen, Kaya slipped into the lavish office and politely closed the door behind her. She’d had enough sense to leave her apron downstairs; it wouldn’t do to get flour or broth on anything that would be a pain to keep clean.
“Has it been so long?” she asked cordially, smoothing the back of her skirt before easing down to a seat. It hadn’t been an extraordinary amount of time since they’d seen each other last, and she knew that; call it a slightly awkward way of covering for the knot of uncertainty in her gut. She had no idea why he was asking to speak with her, and uncertainty tended to leave the she-wolf on edge.
“You know, I was just thinking along a similar track,” Gabriel replied with a warm smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Has it really been five years since you started here?” He shook his head. He could see the way she held her hands in her lap, the straightness of her spine, and he caught her look evenly with his. “I’ve got to say, you’ve been doing exemplary work. Truly. Lydia speaks quite highly of you, you know.” He paused, tapping the desk. “How have you found it, so far? Is there anything you’re lacking for?”
There were no obvious signs in his posture or demeanor to give her alarm, which certainly relaxed a bit of the knot between her shoulders once she realized she wasn’t being reprimanded or tossed out into the street- not that Gabriel or Miss Lydia had ever given her indication they would do such a thing so unprovoked. Like he said, Lydia spoke highly of her; Kaya made a point to pay attention to the social cues of those around her- especially in authority over her- and not just because it was her instinct.
His question, though, didn’t process immediately. With a twitch of her brows toward the middle, Kaya put her head curiously to the side.
“Lackin’, sir?” she parroted back, like that would help. “No- definitely not; I got more here than I ever hoped t’expect. I find it jus’fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Gabriel replied, tipping his head a little before tapping the table with a finger thoughtfully. “I’ll cut to the chase, Kaya, you work hard. You put in a lot of hours between the kitchen and the clients you take on, and I just wanted to talk about it some. You don’t need to prove your worth to me or to Lydia, your place here is secure – and heaven knows, we don’t expect you to make up for time spent at the Preserve.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking over at her. “Which isn’t to say that your work in either domain has any fault to it -- it’s just quite a bit, and I’m wondering if there’s a particular reason you have to burn the candle at two ends.” He rested his hands on the arms of the desk chair. “If it’s a reason you’d rather not discuss, I understand, of course,” he added.
He’d seen the gamut over the years -- women who had children they paid someone to mind, people with relatives who were sickly, or in debtor’s prison, trouble that they couldn’t shake from a past life…
Kaya let the incubus’s words process for a few moments before she said anything; she wanted to make sure they really sank in correctly. The tension tying a knot of wire between her shoulders had loosened- she didn’t believe she was in any trouble, but he made a point of calling her in for these answers. Understanding why he was asking in the first place seemed like a priority.
It just took her a little while.
“Did… have I ever told you much ‘bout the place I was born?” she asked, not wanting to repeat herself with him if she had, but it was significant.
“I can’t say you have, no,” Gabriel replied, carefully. He’d taken a trip over to the Americas a few years back, more for the novelty than anything, but his experiences were limited to New York, and as such he couldn’t claim to know much about where Kaya came from, or what it was like for her.
He could make a few educated guesses, however.
He looked over at her, frowning a little in thought. “I don’t suppose you’d fancy a drink while you do?” He asked, nodding his head over to the collection of crystal decanters on a small wooden side table.
Kaya hadn’t thought she’d gone into much detail, especially early on when she barely had reason to trust anyone save for how dire her situation was. She gave a short, curt nod with tight lips to show she’d heard him, followed by another slightly more enthusiastic one at offer of a drink.
“That’d be …” Helpful, she almost said, then reconsidered. “-nice, thank you.” Her metabolism was a bit too high for a single drink to do much, and Gabriel knew that; it was the habit of the thing, like a comforting smell.
“Most’a my life, if you weren’t busy- if you weren’t workin’, they’d find ways to put you to work.” Details aside, she felt her tone was enough. It wasn’t just about the efficiency of a large farm or household, it was having a target on your back. “Forty-six years ‘a doin’ somethin’ one way’s a hard habit to break… but habit ain’t the only reason.”
Gabriel got up to pour them each a scotch as he listened to her talk, handing her a glass before taking a seat again, leaning forward. “I see,” he said, giving her a nod of his head to continue, curious.
He was fully aware that people usually gravitated to the world’s oldest profession out of necessity -- and that many who ended up in this line of work were running away from something or another. Kaya’d come a rather long way -- longer than most.
She muttered a soft and genuine ‘thank you’ for the drink, took a sip, then set it primly back on her lap, supported by the other hand. The sharp taste settled in seconds, like a fire burning itself out, and left a vague taste of honey in its wake.
“I can’t ever go back,” she said simply, meeting his eyes across the business-appropriate space. Not he or Lydia had ever asked about the ‘R’ shaped scar on the side of her throat, and she didn’t explain it at random. Kaya avoided the conversation with anyone if she could help it, which was why she often wore her hair down, or at the very least, braided on one certain side. “An’all I got here is… here. No Pack’ll ever accept me in London, or England for that matter-” Or beyond, that was heavily implied. “Everythin’ I do here goes toward makin’ sure I got the means to be on my own…”
Gabriel winced a little at her bleak assessment of her chances -- his first impulse was to argue the point, to inject a little more hope into the equation, but she’d know the receptivity of the werewolves of London far more than he ever would, especially by now. He knew solitude was difficult for wolves -- especially long-term -- and he swirled his drink around thoughtfully at her last.
“You know you’ve got a place here for as long as you want it,” Gabriel replied back, finally, giving her a nod of his head. “And know that if you ever want to cut back your hours some at any point, for any reason, I’d be glad for it, and wouldn’t see it as a failing on your part, but I can see the position you’re in.” A smile flickered up at the corner of his mouth. “You might force my hand and make me institute a paid vacation policy if you keep it up, though, fair warning.”
He took a sip of his drink. “You know…” he said, quietly, “I’ve had a few people over the years who’ve left here to start businesses of their own. Should you ever want to go that route, you’d let me know? I’m not averse to giving out loans at very reasonable rates, or being a silent partner should the proposal be a strong one. I’m not sure whether it’d serve your purposes, but give it a thought?” He set his glass down on the table. “I’d also be willing to give you some long-term investment advice, should you be so inclined.”
Kaya didn’t answer immediately, but only because she was taken back far enough to be left speechless. She always understood Gabriel to be an astoundingly generous man for his profession- she counted herself extremely lucky to have found herself in his employ, even if the profession itself hadn’t been her first choice. It wasn’t bad- he and his careful hired eyes kept them safe, well fed, even entertained- but it was discussions like this that made her actually feel cared for. It was one of the reasons she considered the Academy a replacement for an actual pack.
“That’s… actually yes, I’ve thought ‘bout what I might do later on but… never with that much clarity.” She hadn’t actually thought owning her own business was even possible- five years ago, she would’ve thought he was pulling her leg. She knew he wasn’t.
He nodded. “Well. Think on it some,” he said, and then pulled out a drawer in his desk and rooted around until he found a card, and pulled it out. “Here. Ms. Davis is a former employee who has a tea shop on Oxford street, and I’m sure she’d be more than happy to talk with you about her experiences, and she can vouch for me, as it were,” he said with a small smile. “By the intersection of Oxford and Duke,” he added, remembering she couldn’t read.
“And please,” he said, “there’s no immediate rush -- I’d hate for you to think that I’m trying my best to get rid of you. You’re an asset to the Academy, truly.”
Kaya took the card with the hand not carefully circled around the glass; she glanced at it, though the words printed there meant nothing. It was quietly slipped into the pocket of her dress.
“Oh, I’m not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” she offered back with a genuine half-smile. She had been at the brothel for five years, compared to the six months spent surviving on her own on the streets after her arrival at Portsmouth; she did not intend to spend the rest of her life at the Academy, but even fathoming what she would do afterward seemed a long way off. Here, she was safe, she had friends, and most of those she interacted with on the day to day didn’t judge, or stare. Leaving just sounded like an all-around bad idea to her.
“Will you be around tomorrow night?” she suddenly asked with purpose, even sat more toward the edge of her seat.
He raised an eyebrow. “I could be,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. The next few days would be tricky -- Leah was waiting on some clothes, and would be beginning her foray at the Academy soon -- something he had decidedly mixed feelings about, and once she was there, he wasn’t sure how often he’d be by while she was getting settled -- he didn’t want to hover.
“Well you let me know,” Kaya insisted with a warm smile and a ‘toast’ gesture of her glass. “I’ll make sure the special’s that favorite ‘a yours.”
Gabriel laughed. “Of course,” he replied, lifting his own glass in turn. “I’ll be sure to.”