Cali Crew - It's just 3 months

Nikita didn’t feel like she owed an apology. Magic got them into the mess in the first place. She wasn’t out making laser light shows, even though they would be amazing at a rave. Why did she have to follow the rules if no one else was going to? But on the other hand, she also hated the fact that she hurt Nikka at all. And that took precedence. “Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, just as her cell phone went off. “Right after I take this call!” She crossed her fingers to Bishop and headed out of the condo for privacy.

Bishop gave a thumbs up, full of confidence. "You want me to get the grill going and get some coffee brewing?" He offered Nike as Nikita skittered away.

“I love that you’re friends, and I hate that you conspire against me,” Nike said with a grin, mock waving a finger at Bishop. “So spill, and then yes. Coffee. All the coffee. Hopefully we can salvage some milk.”

Bishop laughed. "It's hardly conspiring. Just … mediating the issue. Soft touch you know? At her age you were busy keeping the family afloat and together. You were responsible because you had to be." Bishop said stepping outside to kick over the grill. "She's not you. She gets to have a more normal life because of you. Not that I have siblings but as my mom once said … that hardest thing to do is back off and let go of the bike."

“It was easier when they were smaller, and you know, afraid of me,” Nike kidded.

"Please, you're their superhero. Still are." Bishop smirked, setting the percolator on the grill. "You didn't have to raise 'em on your own. Think about it! Both alive, no one hooked on trust and neither are pregnant or have kids. I know people who can't take care of houseplants. " He paused for a moment. "She does listen to you though, she was angry and when you're angry … that's when you make mistakes and say regrettable things. You just need to give her a chance to do better next time."

“Let go of the bike,” Nike said, tapping her fingertips on one of the mugs. “And hope neither of them comes home pregnant,” She snickered.

"Nah there, too smart for that. Because you would be the least of these worries I would hunt that guy down in his dream and would never let him get a restful moment." Bishop giggled.

“Honorary Nik,” Nike said with a giggle of her own. “See? No more only child. They have a big brother to look out for them. Just know that I,” she hugged around his waist as he stood at the grill. “Do not fall into that category.”

"That would make this very weird all of a sudden. I'm so glad you thought ahead and put that caveat because I did not want to move to Arkansas to keep making this work." Bishop laughed.

Nike laughed but stopped short when Nikita shrieked. “I got it!” She said, flinging open the door to the condo. “I got it!”

“Got what?” Nike said confused.

"One, congratulations." Bishop holding out a fist to be bumped. "Two, not my news to tell."

Nikita fist bumped Bishop, practically squealing with joy. “I got a job,” she told Nike. “Not just a job, theeeeee job! A job of a lifetime!”

“If it starts with the words hey girl and involves you being an entrepreneur, it’s not a real thing,” Nike admonished.

Nikita gave her a dry look. “It’s not multi-level marketing. It’s modeling. I was just on a video conference, and I have the look they’re looking for.”

“And let me guess, all you need is a thousand dollars for professional headshots?” Nike said skeptically.

Nikita’s shoulders dropped. “Yes, Nike, because the only way I’d get an amazing job would be if it was some sort of scam, because why would anyone give me the time of day, let alone hire me?”

“I didn’t say that…” Nike said.

“You didn’t have to.” Nikita groused in return.

“I’m just saying people usually have to work their ass off for a modeling gig. Look, look, I’m sorry, I’ll be more supportive - why don’t you tell me what it’s about? Modeling what? For who? No judge if it involves nudity, you just make sure that’s a road you want to take. Don’t be coerced into it.”

"But if there is nudity involved don't worry I won't judge you either. I will judge Mathias and haunt him." Bishop joked. Sorta. "Spill the deets!" He said pouring cups of coffee.

Nikita was too excited to let anything dampen her mood. “It’s a contract job,” she said. “So, it’s only for three months, but they might re-up the contract depending. It’s kind of modeling, like the girls at the auto show who stand next to boats and cars, that sort of thing, but at a resort, so there’s other things too. You know, rich people country club stuff. Jobs rotate - nothing too taxing. Deliver drinks, hand out towels, make sure there are no leaves in the pool. But the best part? It’s on a tropical island, and there is plenty of downtime to surf, jetski, swim, soak up the sun. It’s going to be amazing!”

Nike tried to keep an open mind, and a neutral expression. She didn’t want to rain on Nikita’s parade, but usually when something sounds too good to be true - there is a reason.

“And the pay!” Nikita said. “Base pay? 500 a day. A DAY, plus tips, and you know these rich people. Smile, flirt a little, they open their wallet. I’ll have the lights back on here in no time flat.”

“Don’t do this for that,” Nike said, still leery. “I’ll figure out the light situation. Don’t feel you have to take the job for us.”

“Are you kidding?” Nikita said excitedly. “It’s three months on a tropical island, Nike. Like someone paying me to go to St. Thomas or Jamaica for three months. It’s… it’s a paycation!” She exclaimed.

"But it's still work. Granted, work on a tropical island but still work." Bishop reminded as he passed out some coffee. "But it's very sweet how you want to help your family out, right Nike? It can be a good travel opportunity just to keep a skeptical eye out for flags. Don't let the money and tropical island blind you."

“Even if I hate it, which I already know I won’t, It’s just three months. And then if they renew my contract, just another three months.” Nikita explained. “I mean, remember that summer we all worked in the cosmetics factory? That was hell and we made it three months.”

Nike scowled with the memory, Klaus thought it would ‘build character’. Nikka was barely 14 at the time. The only thing it did build was a dislike of putting lipsticks in little boxes. “It’s just harder to quit if you’re off on some island,” she warned.