At night, if one were to traverse through the hallway in Lydia's home, the marvel of Houston would become abundantly apparent. It's a dazzling show, an elaborately woven tapestry of city lights shimmering and glistening throughout the darkness. Sometimes, when Lydia is alone after putting her young daughter Kiira to bed, she stands by that massive glass plane and watches the world go by. The headlights and taillights of cars come and go as the vehicles dart behind buildings and flash into view, distant strangers going about their intricate lives in ways that she'll never know any details about. The glimmer of the cityscape makes up for a sky with stars hidden by light pollution. It's a man-made marvel she'd never grow tired of seeing. It's truly humbling.
Her mind wanders, in these sorts of times. She thinks about how she's made a home here for herself and her daughter, and how much safer it is for a baby girl to grow up in a well-furnished home filled with lovingly curated artwork and a mother who is present and dedicated. She thinks about how this home is far superior to a group home filled with aggressive, affection-starved children who compete for attention from adult staff too overworked and uncaring to provide it. She thinks of how Kiira will never have to experience the horrors Lydia herself had when she was young, and she feels relief.
When she catches sight of her own reflection in that shiny glass, green doe-like eyes widened and awe-stricken by the sight of the city, Lydia is pulled back to reality. She composes herself and walks along to her bedroom, the click click click of her red-soled high heels (which she forgot to take off after work) echoing through the hall. It's not very late, but she's exhausted after working all day and attending a rather lengthy meeting with some of Madrigal's executives from other branches. She is undoubtedly passionate about her job, yes, though it can be tiring at times.
Tomorrow, she will begin her first day working with a woman by the name of Kimberly Wexler, who applied for the position of a lawyer for Madrigal several weeks ago. Lydia can recall her own reaction to learning that Kimberly happened to live all the way over in Albuquerque, New Mexico. That's where Gustavo lives, Lydia thought to herself at the time. A simple coincidence like that was enough to raise Lydia's brows and elicit a thoughtful little ' huh' from her at the time she'd learned such a fact. Other than the fact that Ms. Wexler previously resided in Albuquerque, though, Lydia knows this about her: she's a highly-esteemed lawyer who's got a remarkable record when it comes to her previous employment. Someone like her will likely make a great asset to Madrigal Electromotive. Considering the underlying nature of the company, a skilled lawyer will certainly help keep Madrigal secure.
Lydia sets her alarm for 6 AM for the following morning, takes a dose of melatonin, and reads a book before bed. It isn't long before she begins to drift off, feeling her stress levels go down enough to allow sleep. She falls asleep soon and dreams of the complexities of train traffic and methylamine transportation.
Kim is dressed rather sharply when Lydia sees her the following day, wearing a navy blue dress. Her hair is tied into a ponytail with a perfect little curl at the end. She has excellent posture, and the heels she is wearing emphasize her legs quite well. Lydia tries not to stare or let her mind go in all of the sapphic directions it could go, though it's hard not to appreciate the other woman's appearance. She's very well put-together, and Lydia always appreciates a nicely dressed woman.
"Miss Wexler," Lydia begins, a polite smile on her face — the expression is more of a polite gesture, though perhaps there is some degree of genuineness to it. She won't deny that she's eager to begin working with the other woman, all potential elements of physical attraction set aside. That's something Lydia needn't dwell on. "It's good to see you."
"Same to you," Kim replies enthusiastically, her low voice quite pleasing on the ears. "I'm looking forward to my first day here."
"Glad to hear it. Today, we'll just be going through basic orientation, as well as a tour of the building so you can get acquainted with where you'll be working," Lydia says, beckoning for Kim to follow her as her Louboutins click against the floor. For a woman who's on the shorter end, Lydia walks quickly and makes efficient use of her time with each step. "I've prepared an office for you as well — on the same floor as my own, as to maximize workflow and whatnot, if that all sounds good to you."
Kim keeps up with her well, appearing to register everything that Lydia's told her quite easily. "Sounds good to me," she replies. "Whatever you need, I'm here. Lead the way, and I'll be right with you."
Loyal and dedicated. Lydia likes that. It seems that she has made a good choice by going with Kim; this is good. When it comes to Madrigal's true nature, the company is overall very discreet. Even so, were the company ever to land itself in legal trouble, she needs someone with a strong sense of loyalty by her side. "Wonderful," she replies, visibly pleased with that answer. Another, completely unrelated thought hits her at that moment and she adds, "By the way, we have catering on Wednesdays and Fridays. No rush, but once you figure out what food you'd like to get delivered, you can let me or my assistant know and we'll get that set up."
"I'll definitely start brainstorming what I want." Kim nods, her ponytail bouncing with her head's movement. "Thanks for the heads up on that." Raising a hand, she gives Lydia a thumbs up.
Lydia gives her a look of acknowledgement. "Of course." She cannot help but to be somewhat amused by the hand gesture. It's… charming.
Ever so detail-oriented, Lydia is never the type to miss out on the finer details like so. This becomes all the more evident as she shows her new lawyer around the facility, from the lobby to the break room, to the general direction of the restrooms and various other accessible areas. The two women even make a quick stop by the warehouse, not to familiarize Kim with it in-depth, but to get the jist of where it is, on the off-chance that Kim ever needs to go there for any reason. Then comes the floor in which Lydia and Kim will be working together, which Lydia guides the other woman through while pointing out the direction to restrooms and the like. The tour ends in Kim's brand new office, which Lydia proudly leads her to. Though it overall appears to be somewhat impersonal now, with an empty desk, it's not by any means a bare-bones setup. Lydia has ensured that the room is well decorated, even going so far as to use her eye as an art enthusiast to select a painting to hang on the wall. It's an abstract piece, yet it maintains an eye-catching level of structure and, to Lydia, is abundantly intriguing to look at. She hopes Kim likes what she's chosen for her office.
"That should be it for the tour," Lydia tells Kim, taking a deep breath. "This here is your office. Don't hesitate to let me know if you need special accommodations, or anything else." She has tired herself out just a little bit from walking around so much, though that could be for the best. Being such a high-strung individual does mean she has a lot of nervous energy to work off on a daily basis. Watching as Kim takes in the appearance of her new office, she's relieved when the blonde looks at her with an approving gaze.
"Everything looks great to me," Kim tells her, and her eyes shift toward the painting hung on the wall near her. Looking over at the piece, she comments, "The art's a nice touch."
Approval! Yes, that's what Lydia's been searching for. She grins, even somewhat bashful, if only for a moment. The rare expression doesn't last long before it's replaced by something more prideful. "Oh, thank you. I picked it out myself, purchased it at a local gallery. I'm very glad you like it." Being as enthusiastic about art as she is, she very much likes patronizing local artists. The work adds character to an otherwise minimalist office.
"Wow," Kim says, continuing to look over the art. "So, are you pretty into art?"
Lydia's not sure if Kim is simply asking the question as a professional courtesy or if she's genuinely interested in knowing more about her. It's difficult to pinpoint, as Lydia often feels a bit muddled when conversation goes from workplace banter to talking about anything remotely personal. It admittedly takes her a moment to respond. "Oh—" She stammers out, laughing almost silently under her breath, "Yes, I am! I haven't really, um, created much art in my life, per se, but I'm definitely an admirer of the arts." Her hands fidget as she speaks, not entirely sure where to go with what she's saying, now that she's run off her professional socialization script.
Maybe it's the fact that Kim is really quite cute. Perhaps that's why Lydia is reacting this way, feeling so shy all of a sudden. She wouldn't ordinarily behave in such a manner, if it weren't for someone so stunning taking a little bit of interest in her life. Thank god none of her lower-level employees are here to witness this lapse in proper, authoritative behavior. She'd hate to embarrass herself.
Continuing, Lydia adds, as casually as she can, "If you like this painting, you should take a look at my house. My walls are just covered in incredible artwork—" She cuts herself off, realizing she's about to go on a potentially long-winded tangent that's much too personal. "My apologies, I didn't mean to go off on such an unprofessional digression." How embarrassing, Lydia!
Yet, in spite of it all, Kim reassures her. "That is totally okay," she says with a casual little wave of her hand and an understanding smile. "I'm sure your house is lovely."
Lydia smiles.
On the next day, Lydia works with Kim on establishing further knowledge of Madrigal Electromotive. She provides her with some documents to go over throughout the day, things she'd like legal advice on and so forth. Obviously, none of it's related to the more illicit business Lydia conducts; it's all totally legal surface-level matters.
Once lunch break rolls around, she invites Kim to join her. She's delighted when Kim accepts her invitation, though she maintains her professionalism throughout and doesn't show too much enthusiasm. Lydia shows Kim the way to a nearby cafe, one that serves food as well as chamomile tea. That's pretty much a given when it comes to the restaurants she selects — she likes being able to order her favorite drink whenever possible. It may seem like a small thing, but it makes a world of a difference in her own routine.
"So, Miss Wexler, what inspired you to move all the way out to Houston?" Lydia's hands fidget as she speaks, fingers fluttering against one another idly but ceasing to gesture one hand through the air in a sort of, 'oh, this is obvious' type of movement. She smiles, adding, "I mean, aside from this job, that is."
"Please, you can just call me Kim," Wexler replies, her ponytail swaying and bouncing as she shakes her head. She picks up the neatly folded napkin in front of her and unfolds it, placing it onto her lap.
"Certainly, Kim," Lydia replies in acknowledgement, correcting herself, although her eyes remain on Kim, brow raising in a questioning manner. "I don't mean to press. It's just that Albuquerque is awfully far from here. I can't help but be a little bit curious."
"Oh, that's okay," Kim is quick to tell her, though she hesitates. "Uh, have you heard of someone named Saul Goodman? Maybe you've seen the commercials on TV, or all the billboards around Albuquerque? They're pretty hard to miss."
Lydia pauses, tries to conjure up the image in her mind. She doesn't come up with anything, though. "Saul Goodman," she repeats, testing the name on her tongue. "No, I don't believe I have. I — I don't know, maybe I've seen the billboards but didn't think much of them. Should I be familiar with the name?"
For a split second, there's a hint of surprise in those stunning blue eyes Kim has, but the expression shifts into a more pensive, hesitant look. "Not necessarily. It's just that he—" Dragging that last syllable out, Kim hesitated. "—is my ex husband, basically, and he was a local lawyer as well. It was hard to drive around town without seeing the advertisements, and… well, it was hard to see them, too."
"My condolences," Lydia tells her, though she's not sure if that's the right phrase to use. It's much too late to take the words back now that she's said them, though. She swallows nervously, watching Kim's face to gauge her response. "I… I assume that the two of you aren't on best terms, then?"
Kim replies quite appreciatively. "Thank you," she says before elaborating, "We weren't on the worst terms, but, I mean, once you see your ex's face enough times on the television and billboards…" She makes a face that suggests the overall unpleasantness of the situation, and then adds apologetically, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to get so personal. You probably don't want to hear all the terrible details of your new lawyer's life."
Lydia is about to reply when a waiter steps over to the table, "Hey there. Can I get you ladies started with anything to drink?" He asks, a notepad in his hand and a bright, overly polite smile on his face. How timely of him to interrupt.
"I'll just have water," Kim tells him. "Thanks."
The man turns to Lydia, prompting her to reply, "I'll have chamomile tea with soy milk, please." The restaurant she's chosen can fulfill her specific order, which is precisely why she suggested that Kim join her at such a place. She waits for the waiter to leave before speaking again. "Anyway, it doesn't bother me if you'd like to talk about your personal life. I can see why getting a fresh start elsewhere could be good for morale, among other things."
"Definitely." Kim manages a slight smile, and Lydia feels her heart fill with a fluttering sensation that's incredibly difficult to ignore. "Definitely. A fresh start is what I need."
"So, are you from Albuquerque originally?"
Shaking her head, Kim replies, "I'm actually from a small town by the Kansas-Nebraska border, uh, specifically Red Cloud."
"Hm," Lydia hums softly in thought. "I've never been. What's Red Cloud like?"
"Well, there's not a lot to do out there," Kim answers, rolling her shoulders into a shrug. "It's got a population of less than two-thousand, so everyone in town knows everyone. Uh, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author Willa Cather lived in Red Cloud, as far as the town history goes. Other than that, it's definitely not the place for an aspiring lawyer to stay in. I got out and moved to Albuquerque once I was old enough."
"Ah." Lydia nods her head in understanding acknowledgement. "I can see why a place like that could have held you back."
"Oh, definitely," Kim says. "I had a lot of reasons to leave, but — yeah, overall, New Mexico felt like more of a home in some ways. I have a lot more happy memories working in an Albuquerque law firm's mail room than in Red Cloud."
"It sounds like you were very determined to make a life of your own," Lydia says. Before she can continue, though, their waiter returns with their drinks.
"Here you are," the man says to the two women, setting the drinks onto the table. "Are you ready to order lunch?"
"Yeah," Kim says, gesturing to her menu she's been looking over. "I'll have the soup and sandwich combo with minestrone soup."
"I'll take a salad," Lydia tells the man. "Thanks."
She waits until the waiter is gone before she not-very-discreetly sets her purse into her lap, zipping it open to take out a packet of stevia, toying with the closed package for a moment. She realizes that her rather specific drink-related rituals could be considered unorthodox or bizarre, adding her own sweetener in the middle of a public restaurant, but she likes her creature comforts.
Kim notices this and directs a rather curious glance toward Lydia. "What's that?"
"Stevia," Lydia explains, continuing to fidget with the packet in her hands. "I like to add it to my tea. Most restaurants don't offer it, so I bring my own. Would you like some?"
"Uh, for my water?" Kim asks, looking at the glass of water before her and letting out a little laugh. "I'm good. Thank you, though."
"It's actually quite nice in water, too," Lydia murmurs as she tears open the packaging, watching the granulated sweetener shift as it falls into her own drink. She stirs it with one of the spoons the restaurant has provided. The whole process of watching it dissolve into the tea is calming to her, for some reason she can't quite pinpoint. "If you ever change your mind, I always keep extra stevia on me."
"I will certainly keep that in mind," Kim replies before she changes the subject. "So, where are you from?"
Is it strange for Lydia to feel that little fluttering feeling in her chest when being asked, by Kim, about her personal life? She smiles, making a little gesture with her hand. "Oh, just Houston. I've been here my whole life. I mean, aside from all of the times I've traveled, of course." Taking the mug of tea into both hands, she lifts it to her lips and takes a sip. The taste of her favorite drink is a welcome flavor.
"You've traveled a lot?" Kim asks her, intrigued. At least, she seems intrigued, and Lydia can hope that her intrigue is genuine as opposed to simply being a polite gesture. "Where have you been to?"
Lydia perks up at this question. Kim is really giving her plenty of opportunities to talk about herself, isn't she? It must be a rare thing, because she's not sure she's had many people from work be this curious about her. "Several places, really," she says, setting her tea down after taking another sip. "This job has a good amount of traveling involved at times, since Madrigal is an international company. I've therefore visited Germany plenty of times, Berlin in particular, but I've also spent a good amount of time in the Czech Republic — Prague, as well as Long Beach, which is one of our other American locations." Each location all came with such a unique experience and beauty along with it, so many cities with their own individual styles of architecture and sights to see during off-time. "I've been to China once as well, too. Of course, I needed a translator that time, seeing as my Mandarin isn't even conversational level." She lets out a humble little laugh beneath her breath.
"Wow," Kim replies, and there's an impressed look on her face, "Sounds like you've lived quite the life."
"I've certainly taken a lot of business trips," Lydia says, and she can't help but smile just a little over the look on Kim's face. "You'll get plenty of opportunities to travel now that we're working together. Madrigal has divisions all over the world, so..." Trailing off, she takes a sip of her tea before continuing. "I'd suggest ensuring your passport is up to date if you haven't done so already. You know, just to make sure everything is in order once the occasion comes up."
Kim nods her head in understanding. "I will certainly keep that in mind." Picking her napkin up from the table, she unfolds it and smooths it out onto her lap in preparation for the upcoming meal.
It isn't long at all before the waiter arrives with their food, and he sets the plates down in front of the two women with a friendly look upon his face. "I hope you both enjoy your lunch. Can I get you anything else while I'm here?"
"I'm good, thanks," Kim tells him.
Lydia chimes in with a similar, "No, thank you."
The two women begin to eat, and what follows is a silence that is neither awkward nor uncomfortable; it feels like the easiest part of a social interaction for Lydia. Just sitting idly with another person and eating lunch together alone is an easy task. Lydia's enjoying her salad very much, and as it happens, a conversational idea hits her as she's finished a bite.
"So, how is your new apartment suiting you? I recall you mentioning searching for a place when we first met."
"Oh," Kim replies, her mouth still full of the sandwich she bit into. She waits until swallowing before she responds. "It's good, yeah. I mean, so far it's mostly just boxes, so it's not a lot to look at. Place is pretty bare bones at the moment, but, uh, other than that, I like it. It's a nice location."
"That's great to hear," Lydia replies. "I take it you're still in the process of unpacking your belongings?"
Kim nods her head. "Sure am. I'd invite you over to check the place out, but I don't even have a couch or anything up yet. I don't know if I could be a proper host until I unpack at least half of all my cardboard boxes."
"I understand," says Lydia. She contemplates leaving her response at just that and continuing quietly eating, but something in the back of her head urges her to continue speaking. It's the mention of inviting her over that sticks in Lydia's thoughts. "Though, for what it's worth, I'd be happy to help you unpack. I — I mean, if that isn't a terribly bold offer to make."
What is she saying? Lydia never offers anything like this to other people — not to any of her employees or co-workers, at least. Could it be that she's searching for an excuse to be around Kim outside of the perimeters of the office? Maybe. Yes, actually, that is the case, though she's not sure if she'd readily confirm it if prompted to. The truth of the matter is that Lydia is a rather lonely person beyond her professional exterior; she has one friend, overall, and he happens to live a state away. Not only that, but she essentially only spends time with said friend, Gustavo Fring, when on official business during trips. Is it ethical to want a local friend, if that friend happens to also be a lawyer she's writing paychecks for? Is it not natural for a woman who, in spite of her solitary nature, might tend to seek the company of other women? Or, is her offer truly bold and unprofessional when the two of them have barely even spent that much time with one another? Lydia could go on with her thoughts of insecurity. Fortunately, Kim snaps her out of that when she replies.
"Wait, really?" She's evidently surprised by the offer, indicating that she wouldn't have expected it. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you. It's hardly any fun to spend your time opening up boxes all day."
"It's not a problem at all," Lydia says, as if this isn't a huge gesture for someone like her, someone who isn't naturally socially inclined. Truthfully, if she's extending a favor to anyone, she's doing something big, but it works in her own favor to behave as if that's not the case. "It would be nice to have something to do with my hands outside of the workplace. I'd love to check out your apartment, too."
There's a rather genuine, authentic looking smile on Kim's face. It's quite cute. "Lydia, that's so nice of you to offer. I'd really appreciate the help."
"When would you like me to come over, then? I'm typically the most free on the weekends, if that works for you." Any day she has off of work would be for the best; that way, she'll not only have time to prepare herself mentally, but she also won't be coming to Kim's new home carrying the burden of anxiety after a full day of work.
"Sure, the weekend works for me. How about, uh, Saturday?" Kim asks.
Lydia nods affirmatively. "Saturday would be great."
How exciting! For once, Lydia has actually made some plans with another person that don't involve work-related manners. She'll admit, the idea of doing something like this makes her a little bit nervous — yet, it's not the worst kind of nervousness. For someone who's essentially always on edge, she supposes it's normal to feel a little anxious about an upcoming plan. It will be nice, Lydia thinks, to get to know Kim a little better. She can tell herself that herself it's for the sake of familiarizing herself with her new lawyer; she'd be lying if she claimed that there weren't a more personal aspect to it, though,
Saturday is less than a week away, and Lydia is already looking forward to it.
After lunch, the two women return to Madrigal. Lydia goes to her office to keep herself busy with her logistics work. There's a shipment in Long Beach that she has to oversee, and a few other miscellaneous shipments as well. There are plenty of details to change in the system to ensure nobody knows that she's illegally transporting methylamine to Fring.
There was a time when the very act had made her indescribably nervous. Lydia hadn't initially entered the field of logistics expecting to end up becoming one of the more powerful assets to the methamphetamine trade. She'd come into the job a bright-eyed young woman with dreams of making it big in business, but instead things worked out rather differently. When she first met Gustavo, everything changed. Her first time bending the rules with shipments left her with clammy, shaky hands and sleepless nights as she questioned the choices she made.
Now, it's second nature, and to be honest, Lydia enjoys what she does. There's even a thrill to it, and the financial security that comes with the job is certainly nice. She hadn't exactly grown up with wealth, being raised in a group home. Now that she's grown, Lydia is in a significantly better position as far as money goes. She wholly believes that the more money she acquires, the safer she and her daughter will be.
When the work day ends, Lydia keeps her cellphone close to her and places a call. When a familiar voice answers with a low, smooth tone, she finds herself feeling a little more at ease.
"Good evening, my friend," is how Gustavo greets her. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm — I'm well, thank you," Lydia replies, though she somewhat struggles to articulate her feelings. The anticipation about upcoming plans is complicating her usual thought processes. "And how about yourself? Are you doing well?"
"I am feeling decent enough," he replies. His voice is level as it is, and Lydia already has a difficult enough time reading others' tones. He sounds calm, though. "Thank you for asking."
Lydia nods her head. Not that Gus can see this on the other end of the phone. "Well, of course. I'm glad to know you're faring well. Um, I just wanted to check in with you, let you know that things are going well — with the new lawyer, that is. I believe she's going to be a perfect fit to our company."
Gustavo is quiet for a moment before replying, "That's excellent to hear. Do you believe we can trust her when it comes to the more private details of what Madrigal does?"
He must be referring to the illegal activities that the company partakes in. It's hard to imagine that he's referencing anything else.
"I think so, yes," Lydia says. "Miss Wexler has an impressive record of employment from some very prestigious law firms, but aside from that, she has a history of taking on pro-bono defense cases. That's — that's not to say we'll necessarily need that defense, but should we land ourselves in hot water, or what have you…"
Her voice trails off, her free hand – the one not currently holding the phone – fidgeting. Is she sounding guilty? Certainly, she doesn't mean to, especially not when calls aren't the most secure way to converse about organized crime. It's hard not to feel self-conscious about her words over the phone.
Lydia winces sheepishly. "Anyways, what I mean to say is that, should we require her services, I think she'd do an excellent job protecting us."
"Very well, then. I trust your judgment," says Gus. "I'm glad to hear that things are going well so far."
"Yes, yes — they definitely are going well!" Lydia replies a little too enthusiastically. Feeling suddenly aware of how much emphasis she put into that sentence, she goes quiet for a moment. It's a few seconds before she adds, with a little bit of excitement still audible, "She invited me over to her apartment this Saturday."
"Interesting," Gus says quite thoughtfully, "and do you plan to go?"
"I do," Lydia confirms. "I'm actually kind of excited about it. She's such a… oh, I don't know, she's just very fascinating, I think."
She thinks she might hear Gus chuckle on the other end of the receiver. It's hard to tell, because he tends to be so quiet, but Lydia thinks she may have heard something reflecting amusement from his end.
"I'm glad to hear that everything is going well," Gus says to her, and he sounds supportive.
Hearing that reassures Lydia. Of course, she considers him her closest friend and confidante — but he still does hold a high position in the company, and other than that, Lydia greatly admires him. She highly values his opinion, so receiving such a response from him is important.
Lydia is sure to reply, "It is. We're going to be in good hands."
"That's what I like to hear," Gus says. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"That's all for now," Lydia tells him. "Have a good evening."
"You have a good evening as well, Lydia."