that's money, honey {maggie}

[LYLA MCPHEE]

Lyla McPhee was not beautiful (well, it was all a matter of opinion, really. After all, she thought she was beautiful, so why should everyone else not think so?), but men really did not notice that when she charmed them. It also didn't hurt that she had a lot of money. That being said, she had gone on many a date at Bleeding Hearts, a very fashionable resturant that was her absolute favorite place to eat. Normally, when including a dessert in the meal, she ordered the delicious raspberry rhubabrb tarts. Though, this was not an evening occasion, and as such, she would refrain from ordering dessert.

No, this was not a date so much as a business meeting. Lyla, being a rather sucessful in dealing with works of art, was here to showcase some of the most popular pieces of artwork. Of course, she didn't have the actual pieces here, though in all reality she could have set up a gallery back at Hale if the client so wished. A lunch was a much better option, it seemed, and so there she was.

Scarlett had to admit; the art business was a lot better suited for her these days than lumber had been. Though she did not get the satisfaction of shocking everyone by being a woman in a mainly man's business, it was easy to get over because of the money she made. A lavish lifestyle was what she had always wanted, all those days after the war when she was rebuilding Tara. And when Rhett gave it to her, she was happy. That was the happiest she had ever been, until they lost Bonnie Blue, then Melanie. That was when everything had falllen apart and she had messed everything up with a single act of comfort.

Rest assured, she would never let that happen again.

But it was time to stray away from personal thoughts and step into business mode. Clouding her mind with silly things like emotions and memories and emotions felt because of those memories was not ideal for this kind of business. Sure, it helped to throw in a little story or opinion or something with the art work, but in all reality it was the client's opinion that mattered, because in all reality they were the ones buying the artwork. Money didn't come from sentiment, after all.

Lyla kept the book on the table beside her, waiting for the time to go over some of the pieces. Photocopies were not as enjoyable as the real thing, but a lunch offered convenience and relaxation. You couldn't look at all the actual pieces she had to offer in one seat.

She glanced from the menu to the red-head across from her. As Lyla liked routine and when she ate, she would order her usual lunchtime meal (though she had only eaten lunch here two times before), which was soupe aux truffes noires with a Moscato wine. The waiter had not shown up yet, and she was getting a bit impatient, but she did not let that show in front of her client.

notes; Sorry it's so fluffeh, I think it's something about Gone With the Wind being so long that makes you wanna write a lot. XD
OUTFIT

[MAGGIE SINCLAIRE]

OUTFIT OF OHHEY, YOU ARE A BITCH ALSO, THAT'S COOL.

Maggie had money to spend, and she was not the least bit shy about this. In fact, it made her quite pleased when someone stared at her with envy at something that she possessed and they did not. She loved the fine jewelry she bought, and had no qualms that a pigeon toed African child probably was sent into mines to fish out the diamonds she wore. She loved the shoes she wore, despite the fact that many of the pairs were worth enough to feed a family of four for a month. This was not a communist country after all. This was a capitalist society, and that meant that some people had money, and some did not. And the ones who did were better.

Was it Maggie's fault that she had been born on the better side of the coin?

Absolutely not.

Was she going to spend even a minute feeling bad about it?

Hardly.

It wasn't as if she didn't earn some of the money she made. Despite being the daughter of society, Maggie was also a shrewd business woman. Perhaps that's because she didn't give a damn about who got hurt along the way. She did not love people, but this business was like a child adopted by a simp. Maggie might not of made it, but she loved it. True, if she started her own business, and one was formulating in the calculating young woman's mind, but if she did she would certainly love it more. But didn't a parent who did not think they could give birth and then subsequently adopted, only to become pregnant, love the child they had created more so than the one they had simply acquired? Yes, this sounded like sound reasoning to Maggie.

But as she had no business baby of her own at the moment, the adopted one needed tending. Bleeding Hearts as in need of some remolding, after all. And remolding meant everything was to be new.

Except the art.

Age was prize here, as she flipped through the books. Originals would be what's preferred, but only of a certain style. Renaissance romance, roses and hugs and kisses. People who bought the ridiculously priced food needed to feel like the ambiance was worth it. Women had to be so dazzled by what the saw, that their unders got all hot and bothered for their dashing knight upon entering the establishment. And Men had to effectively be able to get some. For sex, men would do anything, if Maggie had learned anything during her time on this earth.

As the quip goes, the customer is always right. And the customers said that they wanted a night at Bleeding Hearts to be a guaranteed pass into their lady friends boudoir. Who was she to deny them this?

Sipping the Moscato wine, she was basically ignoring her dish of Blanquette de Veau, flipping through the black folder with prints of possible art work for her to purchase. The woman in front of her ate quietly, letting her client skim through. "I'm sure you are quite use to this question..." Maggie started, her voice trill but face all business. "But are these all prints of original art work available to be purchased?" She smiled, her youth not diminishing the fact that she did in fact know what she wanted. "I assure you, I don't mind the cost. But in return I require a certain sense of quality. I'm sure you understand."

After all, Maggie did have money to spend.

[LYLA MCPHEE]

"I'm sure you are quite use to this question... But are these all prints of original art work available to be purchased? I assure you, I don't mind the cost. But in return I require a certain sense of quality. I'm sure you understand."

It was annoying questions like this that made Lyla regret taking this particular career choice. Hiding the scowl from her face as she always did to keep from showing the customer from seeing she was frustrated and to prevent wrinkles, she instead put on a sweet smile that even reached her eyes. If there was anything she could do, it was play happy.

That's exactly what she had done all those years, and all these years. When the time came, she could pretend that everything was perfectly fine in order to get by or not make the wrong people unhappy. But when it was okay for her to show her true emotions, it was like... like a train running right through a brick wall. Or something fancy sounding like that.

"Of course. At Hale, we offer nothing but the best. All of the pieces are carefully inspected by professionals, and if any trace of counterfeit is detected, it doesn't go on the market." Easy enough, and it was the truth. There was no way she would ever let her reputation be ruined by someone claiming to have recieved a forgery. Though Lyla did not immediately come off as fake, Miss Sinclaire did seem like the type to see through any sort of falseness.

Why, it seemed like she was a little phony herself. Lyla could sense that in people. She didn't mind it, of course. Perhaps they were kindred spirits.