It looks like Lucia has updated the seasonal specials board. The board is just a large roll of brown parcel paper held in place in all four corners with bulldog clips on wire. On the recycled paper, Lucia has written out the specials in her extravagant hand. Natasha had told her that a lot of the vegetables and almost all of the herbs are grown in the centre's garden, tended to by Gillian's community group. Sawyer has often seen Natasha pinch a bit of sorrel from the garden and chomp it as she strides up the stairs.
Sawyer orders a fennel and ginger mocktail from Lucia at the bar, and settles in to work.
Lucia makes her drink and brings it over. She sets down the napkin first. She twists the glass with a little flourish, so the curl of ginger peel on the rim faces Sawyer. Sawyer thanks her without fully looking up, and loads up her lighting simulation software.
She plays with a few options, consults her notebook for measurements of the set, googles a few things to check prices. Sawyer looks up, and sees Lucia rubbing a charcoal grey dish towel around a glass, staring straight through Sawyer.
She's tall, almost as tall as Sawyer, but willowy. She has arched eyebrows and a perfect Cupid's bow to her lips. Her eyes are dark and gleaming like slate in the rain. Lucia wears a sharply tailored plaid dress with shoulder pads and a patent leather belt. Sawyer loves it. Her hair is pulled back, black curls teased into a little quaff at the front and a long pony at the back.
Lucia struts over to Sawyer. She maintains eye contact, walking with her legs crossing over at the ankles. She navigates the cafe without looking, easily swaying her hips between the benches.
She stops at Sawyer's table, doesn't speak. She shakes the salt and pepper. Only one rattles. She stalks back over to the counter, refills the pepper with fresh peppercorns.
Sawyer tries to get back to work. She's not sure why Lucia is being frosty, but she won't fight. She makes a point of working with 'difficult' female directors. Often, they're the ones with the new ideas, the courage to commission new work, the ones who will blow the whistle on someone sleazing on the interns. Sawyer's definitely a girls' girl, and she'd be lying if she hadn’t had daydreams of leaving work to find Kimberly, Mikaela and Natasha all waiting for her. She supposes that if she wants her friends to embrace Natasha, she should make a bit of an effort with Lucia.
Lucia approaches again, peppermill in hand. She drops the peppermill on the table in front of Sawyer, then reorganizes the food and drink menus into height order.
"Hi, Lucia. It is Lucia, isn't it?"
"Yes.” Lucia's face is haughty and standoffish. That's fine, Sawyer can handle strong personalities.
"This is really good," she offers.
"Thanks."
"It's a really interesting arts centre. We don't really have anything like this in Chicago. Chicago's so big, you know? This has a real community feel, but it seems professional too."
"Maybe you could have said that the other ten times I've made you a drink, rather than just skipping through Insta at the counter," Sawyer can tell Lucia is relishing being rude to her.
Sawyer tries hard not to let her annoyance show, but she also knows she's an easy read. First there's the tension in her jaw. Then, the eye rolling. The look of faint disbelief. If pushed, there's the red rimmed eyes as she tries not to cry from frustration.
"Natasha said you were the programming manager too. You must do a great job, I always see interesting stuff advertised here. It would be good to work with you sometime. What sort of equipment do you have?"
Lucia just stares before she says, "We tend to just commission work by local women writers, and use technicians we already know. Natasha told me you tend to do commercial stuff."
Lucia smirks, but Sawyer isn't having it any more. She's hurt as well as angry. She had been so pleased to find the centre so close to her apartment, saving her from lonely nights in with box wine and Netflix. After a bumpy start, she's started to get to know some women at yoga. And there's Natasha. Sawyer had naively hoped that she was building a bit of community at the centre.
She touches her nail to her teeth and says, "It must be challenging to have to fulfill multiple roles at once. I guess the blessing with commercially viable theatre is that it actually makes money, so you can hire both a barista and a programming manager. So, you could focus on coffee, or whatever."
