Zuri Day - Secret Silver Nights

Not long after this poignant moment, a series of events made moving away and taking a break from law an attractive idea. She posted her candidacy just days shy of the cutoff for nominees, hired her godfather’s best friend’s grandson as her campaign manager and then silently and strategically began building her base, her funders and the focus of her campaign.

The results had come in just one week ago. Due to their hard work and her godmother’s considerably liberal social circle, she’d secured the highest number of signatures and therefore the Democratic nomination for the mayoral race. Her very first thought after this confirmation? That she and Niko Drake would be squaring off once again. With even higher stakes this time.

A ringing cell phone brought her out of her musings. Monique looked at the caller ID and forced a smile into her voice. The woman on the other end of the line was known as a busybody who seemed to know, or think she knew, a little something about everybody in town. But she also owned the most popular salon, one that boasted nail care, facials, lash extensions and massages along with hair treatment, and one that was visited by women of all classes and colors. Joy DeWitt’s active participation in her campaign could help Monique swing the female vote to her favor, and when it came to taking away women voters from Niko Drake’s side, Monique knew that she’d need all the help she could get.

“Good morning, Joy,” she answered, placing the call on speakerphone. “Are we all set for my visit?”

“My girls passed out flyers all last night, and with our offering twenty percent off all services except hair appointments, I expect the shop will be full all day.”

“That sounds great. I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Joy responded before lowering her voice and adding, “Helping you beat Niko Drake will be my pleasure.”

The two chatted a few more moments and then Monique hung up the phone. She thought about the story that Joy had shared about why she detested the Drakes. She had given strong consideration as to whether or not she should have someone with such animosity as a visible supporter. At the end of the day, it came down to this fact: stopping short of something illegal, the ends justified the means.

After a last look in the walk-in closet’s full-length mirror, Monique grabbed her oversize bag and set of keys and was out the door. She pointed the remote lock toward her newly leased luxury hybrid sedan and ignored the slight drizzle of rain as she headed toward the center of town. Ten minutes and she was there, having to park down the block for the amount of cars already lining the street, cars of customers who were no doubt in Joy’s shop, enjoying the catered-in breakfast burritos, Danishes, juice and tea that had been provided and waiting to hear what Monique had to say.

“Let’s do this, girl,” she mumbled, encouraging herself as she locked her car, popped open her umbrella and began the short walk to the salon. “You’ve beaten Mr. Niko Drake once before. Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Chapter 2

Niko left the men laughing as he exited the chair from his weekly haircut at the barbershop. That he’d given up his personal in-home treatment in favor of this public establishment had proved a good political move. Roy wasn’t as good with a pair of clippers and scissors as the barber who regularly came to the Drake estate and groomed all the men, but the camaraderie he’d established with Roy’s regulars, along with the votes he’d likely garnered as a result, was worth a temporary trade-off from being pampered inside the Drake estate walls. After leaving a generous tip and a supply of promotional campaign cards, he walked to his sports car and, after another stop, made quick work of the few blocks that separated the barbershop and the beauty salon that he also visited weekly, a shop co-owned by an ex-girlfriend and her mother. Later, when the weather warmed, he’d do more walking, but on a cool and damp day like today, he was glad not to have to.

He neared Joy’s House of Style and immediately noted more cars than usual. “Hmm, wonder what’s going on here?” he pondered aloud, looking for a close parking space and finding none. The word has probably gotten out that I show up most Saturdays, he thought with a wry smirk. No better marketing than word of mouth. He looked in the backseat and wished he’d bought more than the two dozen roses he’d picked up on the way here, a practice he’d begun during his first visit, when a vendor selling flowers had come into the shop. He’d bought the lot and given them out to every woman present. So as not to be seen as chauvinistic or pandering toward these women, he’d coined a phrase. “Women are like flowers,” he’d say as he shared them. “There’s more to you than just the bloom.”

Two steps into the shop and three things assailed him: the chatter of what sounded like dozens of women, the smell of food and a nearly life-size poster—okay, maybe he was exaggerating a bit but...wow—of his latest mayoral rival. Below the image of a smiling Monique Slater wearing a conservative black suit and a pleasant smile against a backdrop of law books and the American flag were the words New Mayor, New Vision, New Day. He’d barely had time to drink in the changes to the lobby when he heard applause coming from the back of the shop.

“Good morning, Niko!”

So caught up was he in all of these changes, he’d not even noticed the attractive receptionist always ready to flirt. He walked over to where she sat behind the receptionist counter. “Hello! Looks like you guys started the party without me.”

“You’re late, Mr. Mayor,” the receptionist purred, batting stark blue eyes and flipping thick, raven-colored hair over her shoulder. “Someone beat you to us this morning, and if the impression she’s making on our customers is any indication...you just might have a fight on your hands.”

“Oh, really?” Niko leaned forward, his eyes twinkling as he asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Who’s dared to come into my territory and challenge me?”

“I have.”

The unexpected declaration from behind him threw Niko for an unexpected loop. But only temporarily. Within seconds he’d regrouped, turning around and greeting his opponent with a sincere smile.

“Monique Slater,” he said, walking toward her with hand outstretched. “It’s good to see you again.”

Monique’s brow rose. “Is it?” She returned his handshake, firm and assured. Her eyes held a saucy mixture of intelligence and tease. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember our one and only former meeting.” She continued, her voice lowered so that only Niko could hear. “As I remember, things didn’t fare too well for you that day. Come November, I’m planning a similar outcome.”

“I’m sure you are,” Niko smoothly replied, allowing just a hint of bass into his voice. “I, on the other hand, am confident that there will be a very different ending. Though I must admit, your surprise strategy was quite effective, at least with me.” To her arched eyebrow he further explained, “Mo Slater.”

“Ah, yes. I was christened that in law school by a group of lovable jerks determined to make me hard as nails. They said Monique was too sexy, too feminine.”

“You are that,” Niko easily drawled.

Ignoring his comment, she replied, “Mo is friendly, casual, comfortable, a bit no-nonsense.”

“And unisex.”

“Yes.”

A very attractive woman wearing jeans, a silk sweater and five-inch heels rounded the corner. “Oh, there you are!” she said to Monique with a grin.

“Hello, Joy.”

“And with company, I see.” For Niko there was no smile; hadn’t been one since he’d broken up with her daughter, even though he and ex-girlfriend Ashley were on friendly terms. Joy turned back to Monique. “Some of the ladies who’ve offered to volunteer on your campaign wanted to know if you needed help today.”