[center][h1][b]Sena Knight[/b][/h1][/center]

The Sweeper really had a time understanding the daughters and maybe under a different set of circumstances it would have been easier. He had two sons, both of whom he had encouraged to stay [i]out[/i] of the hotel business and both of whom ended up joining the Navy. It was a good fit for them, full of firm structures and discipline, unlike the pair setting across from him in Marcus’ Bell Jetranger. As the humid turbulence jostled the aircraft a bit while they flew over the Bay towards downtown, he concluded, again, that if he had daughters like Sena and Karina he likely would have hung himself from one of the chopper’s landing pads, mid-flight, while over the shark-filled waters south of Pace Island. He hung up the helicopter’s large onboard phone having just rescheduled the interview that he knew there was no possibility of them making on time. There was at least a sales element to it that he [i]could[/i] understand and unlike the promptness and careful attention to detail required for making property deals, many in other countries with their own explicit customs and tastes, a good manager in music had to sell the [i]experience[/i] more than the music, which meant, in many situations, you could just lie your ass off completely. Sena wasn’t busy and she didn’t have a scheduling conflict like he told the station- she was just hungover. He could get her, and Karina, sobered up and on the air in an even better time slot later in the evening, that is, if the station still wanted the hottest act out of Miami to grace their airwaves- and he knew they did. The Downtown Diamond was where his office was located, they could land on the roof helipad, he could deposit them at the restaurant for a while, get some work done and then pop back over for the interview during rush-hour when everyone would be listening.

“I’m not eating at the Diamond,” Sena said flatly, her hand propped against her cheek as she glanced out of the window. She didn’t turn her head to speak.

“Ugh, not again.” Karina chimed in and checked her watch, one of several brightly colored bands along her arms. “It literally would be like the squarest place in town right now.”

“Bunch of old fudds having brunch over stock options…” Sena smirked. “No thanks.”

“This is literal five-star dining!” Danny protested. If nothing else, he would always defend his livelihood. “They’ll fix whatever you want, I have meetings there all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” Sena said, cutting her eyes back at him.

“[i]You[/i] have meetings there.” Karina finished the thought. 

“Might as well call it the wrinkle-room this time of day.” Sena grinned smugly as Karina cackled. 

“Oh for God sakes,” Danny wiped a hand over his face and let out a huff of exasperation.

“You gettin’ mad, Danny?” Sena’s dark eyes seemed to liven up and that prospect of getting under his skin a little. 

The older man thought for a moment as they carried on towards the city center with the steady sound of the rotors overhead. Suddenly, he had a thought and looked up, glancing past the pilot to see how far away from the hotel they were. He grabbed the phone back off the hook and mashed a button to get the pilot’s comms. 

….

Sena barely seemed phased as they descended past tree-tops, while Karina craned her neck and looked around inquisitively. Dust began to kick up as the turning blades got closer to the ground and she could see people pointing and watching, some scrambling to get out of the wash of air that beat against the ground and fanned the grass. Sena continued to look unconcerned. She and Danny were having one of their battles. Karina smirked a little. It was similar to how her sister and their guitarist, Levi, got along, but Danny was older and could be very clever when he wanted to be, one reason why he’d been so successful in working for their dad. It was all very entertaining. The skids settled onto a soft, grass wayside and the pilot shut down the engines with a sleek mechanical whine. The rotors turned lazily for a moment casting rotating shadows while the hum of regular traffic became audible in the cabin.

“Let’s eat!” Danny said, rubbing his hands together as the pilot lowered the hatch.

Sena stepped down first into bright morning sun with Karina right behind. Visually, the sisters could not have looked more different other than the starkly black hair they shared. Sena wore acid-washed jeans, high-top Chucks and a matching black tank top. Both arms had a similar dark assortment of bracelets and a pair of sunglasses. The only color was one of her trademarks: a red ribbon that she wore discreetly through her long hair in a manner similar to 50’s styles. It was a custom many of her followers picked up. Karina on the other hand, wore bright yellow shorts with a blue belt, red flip-flops and a matching tube-top. Her hair was considerably shorter at shoulder length and she didn’t quite have Sena’s figure, being more boney and childlike in her appearance. She smiled brightly behind wide, red-framed glasses as she stepped down behind her sister. In contrast to Sena’s subtle ribbon, Karina wore a large red bow in her hair. It was never planned, but the differences between them became part of the appeal. None of the band members looked like they belonged together. 

A bright yellow sign blinked with red neon across the street: [url=http://user1234173.sites.myregisteredsite.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/webassets/Chefsdi01.JPG]Chef’s Drive-In[/url]. 

“Me and your old man used to eat here all the time when they were building the Double-D.” Danny proclaimed with some smugness, but Sena was already walking away. 

“That’s nice, I don’t need a life story or anything,” She said, not turning back. “Just don’t sit anywhere near us.” The small intersection was stopped for a traffic light and someone honked with a cat-call as Karina caught up. Sena blew the burly truck driver a kiss prompting several more horns and shouts of approval. She stepped up on the curb and strode across the small, weed-cracked parking lot. 

A pair of bells on a rope wrapped around the entrance let the staff at Chef’s know when visitors came and went from the tiny establishment. Inside was a combination of smells ranging from fried food, a worn counter-size griddle with burgers sizzling, cigarette smoke and some combination of glass cleaner and bleach that was used to wipe down the tables and bar. The whole place could have used a coat of paint, but that project was scrapped long ago. The grease in the air from years of hearty cooking stuck to everything consequently making it so that paint wouldn’t stick to anything. Sena walked in as if she had been there a hundred times, unphased by the stares and murmurs of the locals, particularly those holding a certain piece of green copy. She slid into a booth and glanced briefly across the street seeing the traffic light had changed behind them, leaving Danny and the pilot to wait at the crossing.  

Karina slid in across from her and plucked one of the green papers from between the salt and pepper shakers thinking it was a menu since she had seen several lying around when they walked in. She flipped her sunglasses up on her head and began scanning. She loved new things, though “Chef’s” wasn’t exactly a private reservation at Shogun. 

“That’s not a menu.” Sena said. She still had on her sunglasses and had shifted sideways with her back against the wall, letting her legs stretch out. 

Karina’s expression wrinkled some in disappointment and she flipped one of the pages and turned it upside-down, craning her head oddly to follow the words of a bizarre, coupon ad. “No… I don’t think I need a…” She pronounced the words slowly, having literally never read a sale flyer before in her life: “Psychosis...of...Savings...at ‘Insane Jane’s’ electronics outlet.”

[@Almalthia]