There is a gentle knock on the door of Tara's office door about thirty minutes after the fight was set to end between Gavin and Will.  Still dressed in her red gown, flanked by her bodyguards, Isabella stood outside waiting for a response from within.  She hoped Tara would be available to chat - if not she'd eventually end up drinking with the boys and she wasn't sure that was the wisest decision she could be making no matter how tempting it was to join them.  

Tara had practically run back to her office after making sure that neither Gavin nor Will was permanently damaged. She'd wanted to speak to a few other people as soon as possible, but she trusted that the crewleaders would be socializing after the fight for quite some time. She was a bit surprised hearing a knock on the door, and quickly answered it without her usual caution.

"Isabella! I was hoping you'd stop by; there's so much I wanted to ask you- and thank you for! Please, come in. Have a seat."

Isabella smiled slightly and looked to her guards, "Wait with the car.  I'm safe here.  I'll be out ... eventually."  She came inside and shut the door.  Making her way to a seat she smoothed out her dress and sat down.

"Well, I didn't have a lot of good options tonight.  To be perfectly honest I had no stomach for spending time with the people at the fight talking about a bout I had no real desire to watch, to begin with, and the guys are out drinking together.  I should be glad they've become such good friends but... it's, still awkward."

She laughed.  "Anyway... as for you thanking me... I suspect that's about your birthday gift?  You're welcome if so.  Now... I'm an open book... ask away.  Whatever you like."

Tara smiled sympathetically at Isabella.

"You know... if they're out drinking together, I don't think you have anything to worry about regarding the fight. Jack asked them to do it, after all. And I suspect that, in his own way, Gavin thinks he's helping out you and Will by participating."

She shrugged.

"And yes... I'm glad I'm not talking about your gift over a Mary Pickford or four, or I'd be liable to weep into your arms. Thank you... sincerely... the words aren't enough, but I hope to make it up to you someday."

Tara couldn't contain her grin from breaking out- more restrained than Gavin's, but strangely familiar nonetheless.

"I'm very curious about what happened in Jamaica. I asked Gavin about it and he said 'good'. Then he added 'real good'. Then he said something about you being in prison and him jumping out of a plane... I honestly wasn't sure when he started bullshitting me."

"I'm very curious about what happened in Jamaica. I asked Gavin about it and he said 'good'."

At this Isabella couldn't hold in the smile that she felt inside, it pulled at the corners of her mouth as she imagined him saying that things had been good.

"Then he added 'real good'."

She blushed this time, looking down, embarrassed.  This was as close to gushing about being in love as she could have hoped for from Gavin.

"Then he said something about you being in prison and him jumping out of a plane... I honestly wasn't sure when he started bullshitting me."

It was then she realized Tara really and truly had no idea what had gone on in Jamaica.  And, of course, this meant she had no idea what had happened since they parted ways last either.  This explained why she had no fear for William and Gavin's fight.  She shook her head, half laughing, "I'm afraid he wasn't bullshitting you."  She settled into her seat a bit more.  

"Well, let's start from the beginning.  These things are usually easier that way."  And so she began to talk to Tara about what happened since they parted ways in Detroit.  About how she'd come to her conclusion about her feelings for Gavin above the other men in her life.  About how she told herself that she feared the decision might have been made due to the life-and-death stakes of the moment and so she meant to give William his fair shake...  and how, when she came to Philly before Jamaica, William had decided to profess his love. 

Deciding it best to bend to her father's demands of choosing now & not later, not to allow things to progress further for fear that William would invest into their relationship more than he already had, she chose instead to break his heart.  She told him that she knew there was a chance for her and Gavin & she was committed to giving it a real go. 

That meant she simply could not allow William to continue pursuing her.  She wanted to go to Jamaica free to have a committed relationship with Gavin, and so she and Will parted ways. Will was heartsore and promising an honorable fight ahead to prove himself the right man for her... that he would give Gavin & she their space to find out if they were meant to be, but he believed that she was making a mistake and that in time she'd see it.  

Speaking the words to Tara allowed Isabella to reveal her emotional investment, and the toll it had taken on her.  She clearly cared deeply for William and despite her words to the contrary, a blind woman could see that there were unresolved emotions that she hadn't really walked away from - she simply was choosing to ignore those in favor of embracing the ones she had for Gavin.  Loving Gavin hadn't meant she had extinguished the flame she held for William, simply she had walked away from it to willingly burn in the one she held for Tara's brother. 

And so, even before she began talking about Jamaica she'd clearly laid out for her friend the level of investment into Gavin she'd made.  She'd walked away from any hope that she'd reconcile with the man her father had promised her hand in marriage to (Elias), she'd turned from another man (Will) who was every bit as worthy of her heart as anyone on the planet could be (a man Tara, no doubt, knew to be a good man), and she'd taken the chance that Gavin Byrne was the one of the three who would prove worthy of keeping & protecting her heart.  Isabella suspected, due Tara's opinion of her own brother, that she must think Isabella the stupidest woman and the worst gambler on the entire planet.

"We spent the first part of our trip on the most beautiful, secluded, white sandy beach.  Tara,"  She said with a bright smile and a sigh.  It was the sort of sigh that indicated a whimsical enchantment on Isabella's part; it was the way little girls behaved thinking of being princesses, of boys they might love, romantic dances, and future wedding days... "If I could describe Heaven to you, if words were my gift, it would be everything about that place.  This broke down little shack of many colors on the softest white sand near the water that's so blue that you can't tell where the sky stops and the ocean begins was absolute perfection."

"If it wasn't for Gavin's insomnia, there wouldn't have been a worry or care in the world to be had."  She admitted, for a moment her tone was a bit sad.  "I think his having been shot really impacted him deeply, and where his wounds may be healed physically he may be struggling with the mental ones for a while.  The last I saw him he slept well, but I can't say that he's past it all entirely, and I worry for him when we're not together."

"But,"  Her smile returned, "We swam in underwater grottos.  He taught me to fish.  We built bonfires every night and drank rum until we could hardly see the stars above while we told each other the secrets of our lives.  We shared such things... good, bad, and ugly things I wouldn't burden anyone with; things we don't share with just anyone."  She met Tara's eyes.  "He really opened up to me in a way I didn't know would be possible for him.  Then I told him about parting ways with William and he told me how - without my asking - he'd gone to the three other women he'd been seeing and told them he couldn't see them anymore either."

She laughed, "And just like that we found out both of us wanted an exclusive relationship with one another."  Her smile touched her eyes and they sparkled with a soul-deep joy.  "Your brother wants only me... and he actually walked away from all his other girls without me even asking it of him." This elicited a giggle from the Don that was better suited to a love-sick school girl.

"Everything was as perfect as it could be.  So we went back to Montego Bay and had planned to shop and gamble and get into some low-end mischief.  It shouldn't have turned into anything more than that but at dinner that night, I found out how serious of a talk he really had with my father because somehow we ended up talking about a hypothetical wedding."

Isabella accepted Tara's offer of alcohol as the other woman got up to break out the good stuff.  She continued, "It was right after your brother was cracking wise about marrying me if I agreed to his dress code," She rolled her eyes, "That an agent of the FBN literally knocked Gavin off a cliffside veranda and I was sure I'd watched his death for the second time."

She sat up on the edge of her seat.  "Luckily he'd hit the ledge and was able to get back up - the other guy was not so fortunate.  The casino was crawling with agents who had gone off the books to get revenge on us for killing some of their own in Detroit."  Of course, Tara knew that story already.

"We did our best to run, but in the end, they beat your brother down and in trying to make sure they didn't kill him, I was captured.  Luckily ... I guess I can call it luck ... the Jamaican police arrived.  Our fighting back had bought them time to pull up and take us out of the hands of the FBN who was going to fly back to the US with us without any warrants and such.  Well, needless to say, Gavin was hospitalized again and I was put in a prison cell.  Gavin, was patched up and escaped and thus began our week from hell.  Gavin hired Jamaican criminals to help him in an attempt to free me while killing off the rogue FBN agents one by one.  This,"  She said nodding and sipping her alcohol, "... was how he ended up jumping from a plane."

"The leader of the rogue agents had confronted me before he'd boarded that plane and told me that I needed to call off my rabid wolf... apparently your brother picked up a bit of an alias in Jamaica for the ferocity he shown in vendetta.  The locals call him the white wolf."  She smiled saying his name.  Isabella was quite fond of her boyfriend's nickname, far better than her own she thought. 

"Well, I told him I couldn't do that as Gavin wasn't operating on my orders... he was killing those men for his own sake because they'd become his enemies when they'd tried to kill him.  I told the agent his only hope was to run - that the hunter pursuing him was not the sort of man to just stop.  Apparently, both the agent and I underestimated your brother when he gets a notion in his head because Gavin snuck into an airport, hid amongst baggage and climbed out while the plane was flying over the ocean and shot the agent and his pilot.  Then, he put on a parachute and left the plane to crash."

She could see the look that had been slowly growing on Tara's face, "But's far from the end of it because your brother took the funds that my allies were sending to help me escape prison - and he funded a revolution to create a distraction large enough to free me from the Jamaican prison with the help of his hired mercenaries."

She nodded.  "It was a thing of fucking beauty... these local people were a powder keg, already moving towards revolt before Gavin got there but he saw the strategic value in using their righteous cause as the perfect cover for his own ends.  And, it went off as well as anyone could have hoped for.  You would have been proud watching him lead men like that - I mean, he's a beast on his own but he's a gifted leader too.  He so inspired these people that I came back with two new bodyguards who didn't want to stop following our lead."

She shook her head.  "And so... here we are, trying to make a real go of things, not sure what the future might hold for us."  She paused, having talked for a long while.  Tara didn't immediately respond.

Tara leaned back and listened intently to Isabella's story. It was certainly a doozy- especially when it came to Gavin. Tara couldn't help but feel horrible for Will as she listened; one of the best men she knew deserved more than that, but Tara couldn't blame Gavin or Isabella either.

Well, not too much. Gavin over Will? Really? Tara shook her head and smiled. She couldn't believe it, but if that was reality... well, there was hopefully more going on with Gavin than she gave him credit for. At least all this talk about Gavin "opening up" and breaking things off with other women suggested that. For a moment, Tara was tempted to show Isabella the letters she'd been receiving from a woman named Evelyn in Chicago... but it was better to not interrupt.

Still, she got quiet as Isabella mentioned Gavin going over the veranda, especially with the "watched his death for the second time"; hopefully the third time wasn't the charm. 

"The White Wolf"?

Jumping from a plane?

Starting a protest?

Fucking Gavin.

Tara was speechless, and simply stared for a while.

“Sweetie?”  She said in a concerned tone.  “Are yo alright?”  She prayed she hasn’t  said anything to anger or offend the other woman.

Tara didn't say anything, but reached down into her desk and removed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a small amount and toasted Isabella before finally replying.

"Just... a lot to grapple with. But I'm happy for you- and for Gavin. Truly. Whatever the two of you, as weird as it seems, well, it seems to work."

She smiled.

Isabella is quiet for a moment pondering the contents of her glass.  “He thinks the world of you, you know that, don’t you?”  She smiled ever so slightly.  “A lot of times he tries to hide his emotions under wit, so he never looks weak or vulnerable, but it’s there.  I think in dealing with his father, he found he could still express his emotions if he did so through humor.  If he hadn’t developed his sense of humor, twisted though it is, he would’ve had to sacrifice his heart to have survived.”

”At some point that little boy decided that emotions and feelings were important enough to have, that he found a way to communicate them that his father didn’t view as weak.  After so many years using that survival mechanism he doesn’t know how to stop he doesn’t know how to carry on a normal relationship with people or to let people get close to him because he knows getting close to someone means allowing them access to you, it means they can hurt you.  It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or me or anyone that he cares about tonight hurt him it’s that he’s been programmed this way and he doesn’t know any other way to be.  But he wants to that’s what he asked me to help him with, to see if he could find someway to experience a normal relationship.”

”When I started listening to him with that in mind I found I could hear him really speaking from his heart, the way that you and I and people do. Please don’t think that because he speaks this whole other language that he’s nothing more than a reckless fool who doesn’t care about anyone but himself, quite to the contrary, he is one of the most noble, generous, and good souls I have ever met in my entire life.  If what your father did to him doesn’t manifest a new and more distructive way, we might have a real chance at happiness  and I am blessed that he has chosen to share this with me .”

“Provided of course that us being in different cities doesn’t cause some sort of conflict which of course has crossed my mind. I mean this can go both ways, Gavin and me being together can be a bond for Philly and Detroit, or we can be a victim of any potential conflict that might arise between our godfathers, it has happened in the past after all...”

“He thinks the world of you, you know that, don’t you?”  

"I think you know me well enough by now o know the feeling is mutual. I wouldn't be here, if it wasn't for Gavin. I'll leave the analysis to you; that's not my area of expertise. 

"he is one of the most noble, generous, and good souls I have ever met in my entire life"

Why do you say "good"? I might agree on noble and generous- occasionally- but the last one might be a sticking point.

She laced her fingers as talk of diplomacy came into came.

"Why would it cause conflict? And how would you strengthen that bond?"

Where Gavin was a deadly predator with a weapon and his hands, she nearly forgot what this woman's weapon really was and for an instant, she began to regret her open and heartfelt dialogue with her.  Every word spoken with the intention to help this woman and her brother grow closer might potentially be turned into ammunition.

What woman in her right mind lets a valuable piece go from her side of the board when she has one like Gavin?  Gavin might eventually be the son-in-law of a Godfather from another city.  The husband of a favored daughter, a daughter for whom Salvatore was known to be violent in the defense and protection of; what might he overlook to spare his daughter's heart?

Isabella took a sip of her alcohol and, it tasted bitter on her tongue as she realized even this drink could be a way to loosen her lips.  Tara was every bit her brother but in a whole other way.  In many regards, though she would never tell Gavin this, his sister was ten times more deadly than he was.  So pretty, soft-spoken, smart... well-connected... she had more power in her piles of papers than Gavin in all his guns.

Isabella was afraid.  No matter how she felt for Gavin - he wasn't yet her family and even after he was ... Tara wasn't Sicilian.  Would she ever view their bond as sisters?  Truly?  Could she understand what it would mean for her to be married to a man who wasn't first and foremost loyal to her father?

She was recklessly in her love for Gavin Bryne and like the fish being dragged against the ocean waves... all Tara had to do was wait her out.  Isabella could run, could twist and turn and try to be free of the line, but the hook was set and in time she would swim to the boat in defeat.  Tara had a prize within reach, the sort that might earn her own authorization.  This is how legends are made... knowing the right moment, seeing the opportunity when no one else could, and having the patience to wait it out. 

In a single action, Tara could get it all: Leverage over her brother to keep him under heel at long last, a small bit of control over another Godfather to prevent war or to allow Spaceman a lot more latitude to extend his own power base,  and because of all that she'd get a crew & power of her own.  She'd never again to be a prisoner or belonging of a man or second fiddle to one like her mother.  Isabella knew Gavin was better at poker than her, but she figured he knew jack and shit about chess... his sister was the chess master in the family and as their eyes met and all this flashed through her mind in milliseconds; Isabella wondered if she had misjudged Tara entirely.

Her words could mean everything here.  Family wasn't just an important thing to her - it was EVERYTHING.  What she said to Tara tonight could set the tone for their entire relationship going forward or potentially drive Gavin from her forever.  This conversation was a minefield that her father's words had made her terrified to navigate without extreme caution.

Damn it all, Izzy.  THINK.

She needed Tara on her side on this, but more importantly, she wanted her to be there.  But how?

"He's a murderer so maybe by traditional standards, he's not so 'good' ... fuck, who of us is?" She shrugged and crossed her legs sitting up taller in her chair, shaking off the sullen sunken shoulders of a moment earlier.  "But Gavin has a code, he believes in certain things that are central to who he is, and most of those things are inherently good - chief among them is a desire for personal freedom for himself and those he loves.  Were those freedoms ever be hindered in any way, he'd throw off whatever hold anyone had on him and run, just as sure as he ran from toothbrush girl in New York."

"The toothbrush was a collar in his mind - a symbol that he'd been tied to something or someone without his permission and all without him noticing.  And it scared him shitless.  He abhors the idea of anyone controlling him, making him do things he doesn't want to do.  He's lived that life before.  He doesn't want to go back, no matter how pleasant or pretty the cage.  He'd hate anyone who attempted to force such a thing on him, or those he loved.  That's where that dead agent got it right... Gavin would sooner gnaw off his own limbs, like a rabid wolf in a trap, than allow himself to be controlled by anyone."  She lowered her voice, "Even - and maybe especially - me, and so I'm in one hell of a logic bind."

"No relationship within Cosa Nostra is simply about two people and their happiness.  I tried to explain it to Gavin, what my father hopes to gain in my future marriage, and what it could mean to all of us in this thing of ours.  Unions between families and cities - they impact everyone whose lives they touch.  When two people from two different families come together, especially two different cities, it can unite those people into a single and unstoppable family for years to come... or, when the families turn on one another, no one suffers so much as those who were caught between them. No one such pain as those whose 'true loyalty' is called into question because of matters of the heart.  And so... these things are on my mind, now that Gavin and I are 'a thing' ..."

Tara watched Isabella curiously as the other woman seemed to slump her shoulders and to rest her hands in a slightly less relaxed position. Interesting. Nervousness? Anger?... Fear? All interesting possibilities, and Tara was momentarily thrown before figuring out how she'd prompted this reaction from someone she considered a friend.

Still, she relaxed as Isabella started talking about Gavin's "goodness".

"I think that's just a question of definition; I was referring to the traditional standards."

She listened, thoughtful.

"I'll be honest with you, Isabella. I trust you. Maybe I shouldn't. I always tend to assume people are playing me, just so I'm always aware of the possibility. But you've helped my brother- and, more importantly, I believe we're on the same side here, in that we both want a stable world."

Tara paused, tapping her finger against his glass.

"He's different. You should know that you changed him. Before, when we talked, you mentioned the idea of changing who he is as this horrible fate. But he's better, since he met you. I don't know how much credit to give you; some, I'm sure, belongs to others. Maybe it's his own personal growth. But I think you've had a bigger impact than anyone."

Tara poured herself another glass, not caring if she outpaced the don across the desk.

"Noble. Generous. I'd even say... heroic. Can you imagine a seven year old boy picking a fight with a brutal, strong man like my father? Sometimes I'd see my father coming for me and I'd just stand there, wide eyed. What was I to do? I just froze... and 99 times out of 100, Gavin would step in front of me. He'd attack my father... or distract him... or just get ground under his heel. But whenever he was there, he always threw himself in there. He was a hero. There was good in him. But as he got older, as we left Newfoundland and came to Philly... he changed. He was still fun... but it was like a part of him had withered when my mother died. And he had me- and I know he loves me, just like he knows I love him- but I could never help him. Not the way he'd helped me. I've had hundreds of millions of dollars cross my desk, and Gavin still sees me as a girl to be saved. I tried, and I could never break through. Maybe it had to be someone other than me. I don't know."

Tara leaned forward, holding her drink with both hands.

"But the spark he used to have... it's back. I see it sometimes more than others... but it's there. And there's nothing I could give you to ever repay you for helping bring it back. So when you say things about Gavin chewing off limbs rather than being under control... I just don't know. I can't give you advice, other than... just don't assume anything."

"And as for the last part, about the unions between families and cities, well... I think we all want more stability. But no one with half a brain would throw the two of you together before you're ready. If it's not something you both want, it'd be a disaster. But if it is something you'd both want? Well, then why couldn't it help?"

She laughed, very softly.

"And allow me to channel my.... your.... whatever, our worse half in saying that thinking about hypothetical futures is a waste of time. I expect that everyone desiring peace, ourselves included, will work hard to maintain it. But if something was going to happen in the future, I'm sure you and Gavin would both feel a lot better if you spend the time you have being as happy as you can. If something happens... well, you'll deal with it then."

Isabella drew a long breath, her right hand draped across her midsection, and she exhaled slowly.  "War will come."  She said quietly.  "It always comes."  She reached out with her left hand and took up her glass again, finishing it before putting the empty vessel in front of Tara to be refilled.

"I shouldn't put the horse before the cart though.  I'm thinking of what could happen, if the day comes that Gavin and I..."  She stopped.  It wasn't worth getting into.  Not tonight.  This fight business had put her on edge.  It was making her stupid.  Tara and she didn't need to work out a plan to make things happen tonight, hell maybe not ever!  Gavin could run off tomorrow for all she damn well knew.  Why rush things?

"...but really, we've just begun, haven't we?"  She nodded to herself.  "I've got my head in places it doesn't need to be."

Isabella bent down and brushed her lips across the cold dead lips of her fiancee in one final goodbye, and silently wept.

"It's my father, his expectations."  She said, partially confessing fact.  "My father has a lot of ... he has a lot of thoughts and opinions."  She picked up the refilled cup and took another drink.  "My father is a really loaded topic, and one I've never really been drunk enough to share, and God willing never will be."  She shook her head.

"Suffice to say he likes Gavin.  He doesn't object to Gavin and I seeing each other, so that's a good thing.  You're probably right, I should just let tomorrow take care of itself, and not worry so much about what might be and stay focused on what is."  She forced a smile and drank again.

Tara nodded. 

"You're right, of course. War will eventually happen. But it doesn't mean it has to happen between any existing crews, even. And to quote a poet from my youth 'Thus, though we cannot make our sun / Stand still, yet we will make him run.' War will catch up with our society again eventually, but I'm personally hoping to really make him work for it."

She filled Isabella's glass with an optimistic smile.

"You and Gavin just... work. If something's going to happen... it'll happen. Just take it one day at a time, right? And regarding your father... well, I haven't the faintest idea and no experience... but I wish you luck."

She winked.

"A little confession, since you were kind enough to give me the liquor and advice..."  She said with a smile.  "The gift of the library was entirely selfish." She shrugged.  "I mean, I meant what I said and I do feel as I said, but in truth I wanted you to know that you're important to me.  As much as I'm looking to the future for me and Gavin and what could be ... or fearing what might happen ... I can't say I'd hate having you as a sister."

She smirked.  "You don't judge me for being a lush, and you keep pace with me at the bar that's for sure.  And, you don't seem to judge my emotional breakdowns either ... so that's a huge plus.  I can't tell you how many people I wear masks for, faking smiles and pretending all the damn time.  I did so much of it after Elias died I was starting to lose track of which parts of my life were pretending and which were true... until I met Will and Gavin at least."

She shakes her head, "It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud like I was some sort of idiot waiting on love to save me, like some sort of fucking damsel in distress... but the truth is that your brother listened.  He didn't want to make me better, he didn't want to change my pain, he just... let me talk.  He heard me and what I had to say didn't piss him off, or depress him, or make him tell me I needed to get over it and move on.  He just... saw me and I felt like it had been forever since anyone really saw me."

She looked down at her cup, "Maybe since even before Elias, maybe since... maybe since I joined the mob really."  She looked up to Tara.  "I honestly thought I left Canada with this great friend.  This guy I could tell anything to and it wouldn't change a damn thing.  Added bonus he was absolutely crazy about my body and not turned off by the wreck that bullets have made it..."  As if suddenly realizing her hand had been on her scars this whole time, she finally moved her right hand to the arm of the chair.

"I didn't feel just like a desirable woman... I felt like a person.  Not a Don or the Godfather's daughter... I just felt, real.  And when we were standing in that stupid stairwell before he was shot in the lungs, I just realized it.  I'd loved since that first moment he just came up and treated me like a normal person.  He was just a sex crazed, idiot man with too much money & time on his hands... but he never lied about who he was and he never needed or wanted lies from me.  He's the only person in my whole life I've ever told the whole truth to about anything really.  I came close with Elias... Will too, but not Gavin.  No one is like Gavin because no one makes me feel the way he does."

She began to blush and laugh, "Well, I think I've had too much to drink."  she put the glass aside.  "You really don't want to hear any of this I'm sure..."  She rolled her eyes.

"Can I ask when you last got out to do anything fun?  Please tell me you do leave this place... Gavin would have me believe you live and work here?  Tell me that's not true."

Tara flashed a genuine smile.

"I've never even entertained the idea of a sister... but who knows what the future holds? And you know what sisters do? Get drunk and talk about boys... so please feel free to ramble with me. Even if, in this case, the boy in question is Gavin."

She laughed, glancing at the bottle and deciding against pouring another.

"I actually have a... business meeting? I think? Tonight. But who knows? And yes, I do get out sometimes. I definitely work too much, but I think the amount of work I have to do is changing. In the early days, Race Street felt like it was held together with bubblegum and shoelaces- and Jack's vision. Without getting into the details, I think I'll have more time for myself coming up- and I intend to use it."

Tara sighed.

"I do sleep here, often. There's a bed and a bathroom behind me. And a closet... maybe I do live here. But point is, I still get out. I see... people. I mean, part of my job is helping run The Pier- and how could I be bored with my work if that's my work?"

She grinned as she gestured to The Pier. 

"I'm even thinking about opening up my own place- in New York, though. It's a nightclub, and I wouldn't want to have to try to compete with The Observatory."

"You've got more money than you know what to do with... fuck, do yourself a favor, pick up a little place.  Do it with an alias our through a shell company.  Tell only really special people in your life about it.  Keep the secret super close to your heart.  Guard, the sanctity of that space with your life and keep work away from it."

"An office can't be a home.  Homes are suppose to be places full of memories and treasures... a place of peace and respite.  There should be something almost sacred about it.  A home is where you really live, a place for a true family when you decide to have one.  Don't mix work and pleasure there - work gets you everywhere else, let home be something else and when your brother asks you if you live here... you can honestly tell him, no, I work here.  I work a lot... but I do have a home and it's a place work can't find me - it's a bolt hole if you must call it that, but its a REAL home with photo albums, knick-knacks, and recipe books that actually get used when you're there."  She laughed.

"I've got a home like that - don't tell but it's up in Port Huron, Michigan.  I keep the things nearest and dearest to my heart there.  Anything that has ever marked me, left me changed or moved me has been welcomed there.  I bought it after I buried the man I thought was Elias.  I'd been eyeing it before I got shot and had my hysterectomy.  I'd been thinking that maybe it was far enough away from Detroit that it would be an ideal place to raise my family when I finally had one.  Well, then Elias was gone and I realized it wasn't ever going to be."

She shrugged.  "But I bought the house anyway.  At first, it was this exercise in memorializing Elias, my mom - people I'd lost... but then I moved a few things into it that were special to me.  And then more... and more... and more.  Soon it wasn't a mausoleum, it was ... a museum of me."  She smiled so brightly it touched her eyes. 

"I literally was filling this house with all these... tiny memories.  Stupid shit... menus from places I liked, matchbooks from bars where I had a special moment; most of it wouldn't mean a damn thing to anyone but me.  I think that's what makes the house my real home.  It's not something for anyone else - I made it for me.  I hang my art there, all my sketches and such ... the cupboards are filled with my favorite food, the bathroom all my favorite beauty items.  Every piece of furniture inside is something I picked out because I loved it so much I couldn't leave it behind.  There's nothing in that place that isn't part of my heart.  I welcome nothing into my home that I don't love."

She looked around the office and even out the window onto the pier.  "All of this is impressive, but it's the part of you that you let everyone else have; the last time we were together you told me about your love life.  Well... maybe it really starts with giving yourself much-needed self-love.  I know it sounds corny but hear me out!"  She slid forward, "Just... do something impulsive for yourself.  A house is a major purchase and people normally think long and hard about it.  So... throw caution to the wind, say fuck it, and make a home.  If I'm wrong and you hate it... flip the damn place and sell it for a profit."

She laughs.  "But I don't think you will, not once you really start filling your special place with your truly special things and you begin seeing this amazing person that you really are... not just Jack's Right Hand or the Administrator of the Pier... though she's damn special really; but all of you.  All those little parts that wait for you to have a free moment or someone literally runs off with you to make, go give that girl a couple hours from time to time.  Trust me... she's worth your time too."  

Isabella reached over and grabbed the bottle.  "Fuck it. Now you got me talking again... this calls for more booze."  She laughed. 

Tara leaned back, relaxed, as she sipped at her drink.

"I've been thinking about getting a place... but I have another business I'd like to open first."

She grinned, again eerily familiar to Gavin.

"A nightclub. Taking most of my free-time pondering what exactly I'd like to do with it. But what you say makes sense."

Tara had an idea come to her suddenly.

"Say, why just sit here and drink together? Want to head downstairs and see what's going on in the East Cat? Make sure the boys are staying out of trouble? Besides, it's been too long since I got to relax and have a drink with Gavin. Sometimes it feels like we're barely in the same room at the same time."

“Fantastic idea.”  She smiled.  Anything to keep me from going into the wolves den alone!  With that the left the office together in search of more interesting trouble.