LEELA: The Series
A story about a woman who, like many of us, knows how to give love to everyone but herself.
New Episodes every Saturday @10am EST
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Episode 6: Fleabag
Tatum waits for his turn in the lobby of a salon that’s somehow supposed to be paradise for men.
Paradise, to him, would be sitting in Ignacio’s chair, getting a straight-edge razor shave and a haircut at a real barbershop.
Instead, due to his work schedule and Ignacio’s daughter’s graduation, he’s stuck with twelve forty-eight-inch plasma screens flashing nothing but sports coverage nonstop.
Didn’t Stephen A. Smith live in Miami now? Pinecrest, no doubt.
He watches a mother argue with a gum-chewing stylist about her son’s haircut.
Then he peruses the stack of magazines on the table.
Sports. Sports. Sports.
He enjoys sports as much as the next guy, but c’mon.
One in particular catches his eye.
Still sports, but the headline on the cover pulls him in.
(IS MARCUS HAYES THE NBA’S MOST LOVED PLAYER?
How the Rockets guard’s devotion to community, faith, and family won not only a championship but our hearts as well.)
Tatum picks it up.
“This should be interesting.”
He flips it open.
America’s dreamboat.
Tatum’s soon-to-be nightmare.
***
Leela throws a bunch of healthy-looking ingredients into a blender and turns it on, one hand securing the top because, well, she really has no idea what would happen if she didn’t.
She runs her free hand through her hair, teasing it out, enjoying the sensation of her nails on her scalp.
Lucy’s voice arrives from nowhere, drifting in from the couch.
A casual memory brought back to the present.
Piojos.
Leela smiles and tightens the strap on her dark fern satin robe.
Lucy’s voice calls out across time again.
Look at you, mami, in your bougie robe, parading around my house like you own the place.
Leela answers out loud to the empty room.
Oh please, Abuela, it was a regalo…
The blender stops, and she performs a dramatic spin, showing it off.
Lucy answers, her words infused with song.
Oh, I see. A regalo…for what, I wonder?
Leela shrugs casually as she pours the mixture into a glass, inserts a straw, and takes a sip.
Por amistad…
Lucy’s cackle brightens the room.
Por amistad!?!?! From who? Marcus???
Leela shakes her head as she blushes and rolls her eyes.
Lucy just continues laughing hysterically.
Yeah, I had friends too…I never had a friend buy me a thousand-dollar robe!
Leela purses her lips, struggling against a smile.
And just what are you implying, Abuela? Hmmmm???
She can feel Lucy’s eyes staring at her, but she knows she won’t say it.
Ahh, that’s what I thought. Go haunt someone else, vieja.
Lucy gasps, offended.
Leela simply waves her off, taking another sip of her smoothie as she marches back to the couch, mouthing the words to an episode she’s seen a thousand times.
“Hair is everything. We’re meant to think that it’s a symbol of power, that it’s a symbol of fertility.”
After her dream last night, she couldn’t go back to sleep.
Rather than forcing it, she moved to the living room, turned on the TV, and has been binging Fleabag ever since.
She sinks down in her patented cross-legged drop.
Looking directly into an invisible camera with big eyes and a grin.
“Ohhh, I see what’s happening here.”
Her British accent is spot-on.
Then she winks.
Just for us.
***
Addy puts one hand on her head.
Her other hand holds a twenty-four-ounce tumbler filled to the brim with iced coffee.
Although she’s wearing a bright, fiery orange dress, she looks like death.
The hangover is strong with this one.
“That coffee’s not going to rehydrate you,” Tanvi says casually.
“Ugh, why do I make such bad decisions?” Addy grimaces.
Tanvi couldn’t be less interested.
“Girl, please. I drank an entire fifth of vodka last night and still woke up at 5 a.m., did a cold plunge, hit the sauna, and ran 4.5 miles.”
She didn’t do a damn thing.
And she didn’t do any of that other stuff either.
Addy looks at her.
Eyelids heavy.
Unamused.
Tanvi tosses her a packet of Pedialyte.
“Put this in a bottle of water.”
“What’s this?” Addy asks, catching it.
Her reflexes are surprisingly sharp.
“I’ll tell you about it when you’re thirty,” Tanvi quips.
Tatum walks in.
Addy looks up, her eyes lighting up.
Then she notices.
His hair is…different.
“Morning, Tatum! How did it go last night?”
Tanvi swivels around and almost falls out of her seat.
“Jesus Christ, Tatey! What happened to your hair?!?”
Addy looks at her, scolding, then back at Tatum.
Tatum turns red.
Clearly self-conscious.
“What, did Ignacio go into witness protection?” Tanvi presses.
“TANVI!!!”
Tanvi erupts with delight, unable to help herself.
Addy turns to Tatum, concern in her eyes.
“Don’t listen to her. She drank a fifth of vodka last night.”
Addy affectionately runs a finger through his hair as she investigates closer.
“I think it looks cute.”
She gives him a light peck on the cheek.
Tatum blushes.
“Ugh, fucking disgusting,” Tanvi groans.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to work.
“I’m done with both of you.”
She taps at the keys.
Continuing to herself.
“Tell me you’re a fuckboy without telling me you’re a fuckboy.”
***
A delivery guy places the most beautiful arrangement of flowers the girls have ever seen on the coffee table, tips his hat, and bids them farewell.
The outside of the card says Flor de Lux.
The curiosity in the room is a solid eleven out of ten.
Even Tatum is intrigued.
Addy and Tanvi both look at each other, then back at the flowers, afraid to approach.
Tanvi points at Addy, then back at herself, back at Addy, then at herself, then gestures toward the flowers.
Addy grins, raising her eyebrows and rubbing her hands together like she can’t get enough of the suspense.
No one says a word.
Tanvi goes full mime.
She puts her palms up, nodding her head and pursing her lips.
Tatum translates in his head.
Don’t worry, I got this.
She slowly and confidently struts toward the arrangement, picks up the card, and opens it.
Tatum and Addy silently demonstrate their excitement, pretending to bite their fingernails.
Tanvi looks up, holding the card to her heart as she sniffs the flowers deeply.
Then shows it to the other two.
Leela, thanks for a wonderful breakfast!
-Taylor A.
Tanvi draws a heart in the air and does a silent spin with the flowers.
Addy looks at Tatum.
What the fudge?
Tatum responds without a word, and somehow Addy understands.
A male colleague of Leela’s. An escort. Tanvi’s “down bad.”
Tatum does air quotes in a vacuum.
Addy looks at Tatum with wide eyes.
Did you just say “down bad”?
Tatum puts his hand over his mouth.
Addy raises one eyebrow in question.
What does the ‘A’ stand for?
Tatum shrugs.
Tanvi lifts her hand as if to say:
Angelic? Attractive? Aesthetically pleasing? Who cares?
She interlocks her fingers and rests her head on them like she’s looking out a window longingly.
It should have been me…
I guess it’s true what they say.
The best teams don’t even need to speak.
***
Towering skyscrapers offer relief from the rising sun.
We follow Leela as she walks down Third Avenue toward First Street.
Moving with her like an invisible one of the girls.
She’s a force of nature.
Her wide-legged wasabi jumpsuit flaps with her brisk movement, skimming her curves, cinching at her tiny waist, then rising into a halter that secures the plunging neckline.
No ponytail today. Her locks are down, full and bouncing with each step.
She turns to us, familiar, and says with that fucking charming accent:
“So by now you’ve heard about Taylor, and yes, the rumors are true. He is a male escort. And yes, he is handsome as fuck…”
She turns left on First Street and continues.
“Do I have the hots for him? God, YES! Have we, you know?”
She stops to look at us, tilting her head.
“Why yes. Yes, we have.”
She starts walking again.
“Is he as good as this episode is making him out to be?”
Click, clack go her ferocious Saint Laurent sandals.
She looks over her shades, her tone demure.
“A true lady never tells.”
She stops in front of Café Bastille, the perfect combination of charm and luxury.
We take it all in: windows adorned with hand-painted daisies, two-toned wicker chairs, soft sage umbrellas fringed with little tassels like tapestries from the nineteen-thirties.
When we come back to Leela, she’s nodding vigorously and enthusiastically mouthing the words:
“Yes, he is…”
She fixes her pantsuit and primps her hair, gathering her composure.
“Shame on you.”
She delivers her admonishment without looking and makes her final approach.
***
Taylor A. is waiting for her just inside.
Dressed immaculately, head to toe in Brunello Cucinelli: an elegant off-red blazer with a metal pleated pocket square, patterned wool pants, a pressed white linen shirt secured with a cream leather belt, and off-white reverse-calfskin derbies.
He’s tall, tanned, and chiseled.
He meets her with a kiss and a greeting:
“How’s my favorite sponsee?”
His voice does not disappoint.
Baritone.
Dreamy.
“Shall we?”
He wastes no time escorting her outside, holding the door for both her and the hostess as they walk back out to the patio.
While he can’t see her face, she looks at us briefly and mouths:
“I know, right…”
She calls back to him over her shoulder, playful.
“Taylor, why do you always look more guapo than I do?”
He stops, grabbing her hand lightly and spinning her around as he observes every inch.
“Darling, no one ever looks better than you.”
He pulls out her chair, then gracefully sits across from her.
“So we might as well get this out of the way,” he says casually.
She looks at us, eyes wide with excitement.
“He wants me to have his babies!”
She turns back to him with a smile that bares teeth.
“What have you done with your hair? It looks sensational!”
If he’s faking it, not even God herself could tell.
She returns to us.
“Dear God, he’s perfect.”
She’s just about to open her mouth to tell him something, but catches herself before a word comes out.
She looks at us, eyes sparkling.
“Okay…I have a confession. Taylor and I are more than just friends…”
We both look back at him.
“He’s my sponsor…”
When we see her again, the sparkle is gone.
“This ‘date’…is a checkup.”
She just stares for a second, letting it sink in.
Then holds her finger gun to her head and pulls the trigger.
***
Addy looks at her laptop, stunned.
Tanvi hears her flustered breathing and peeks over.
“What’s up?”
Addy clicks around, closing and reopening windows on her MacBook.
“Did you push Wexler through to the next step of the workflow?”
“Addy, I already do the job of ten men, which converts to the job of five women…”
She looks at Addy patronizingly.
“I’m not trying to add your job to the list.”
Addy rolls her eyes.
“It’s just that his scores in attachment and emotional stability are questionable at best. Well below our regular standard.”
She bites the end of a pen.
“I wanted to talk to Leela first because he’s a direct, but I don’t think we should push him through.”
Tanvi looks up.
“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.”
Leela walks in like she’s landing on a runway.
Louboutin Venus bag across her shoulder, leftovers from Cafe Bastille in hand.
Everyone jumps up, smiling at her, waiting for her to notice the flowers.
Even Tatum.
She looks at us briefly.
Knowingly.
“Let’s play, shall we…” she says with a tease.
She stops. Lowers her sunglasses. Does a 180 to take them all in.
“Am I missing something?”
No one says a word.
They just look toward the flowers on the coffee table.
Leela refuses to take the bait.
“You guys are acting weird.”
Addy clears her throat, nudging her head toward the flowers.
Leela just stares at her.
Then at all of them.
Impatiently waiting for someone to speak.
“Is this some kind of theme for the day? Charades?”
Leela looks at us.
“Oh, someone’s going to lose their shit. My money’s on Tanvi.”
She turns back to them.
“Okay, well, have fun with that. I’m going to go to my office and get some work done because…”
She raises her voice, directing it at everyone.
“…in case no one has noticed, we have a world-renowned, baby-faced celebrity coming to town, known for his squeaky-clean image…”
No one moves. So she speaks louder.
“…and who would lose hundreds of millions of dollars and cost major corporations billions if he were ever caught in a compromising situation.”
Nothing.
“Like with, say…an ESCORT.”
Silent as shit.
She pretends to be appalled.
“Fine. I’m done with you.”
She looks at them one by one, disgust written across her face, then pauses on Tatum.
“I expected better from YOU.”
His eyes flash with hurt.
She turns and marches toward her office, calling over her shoulder.
“Oh, and Tatum…”
His eyes dart to Tanvi.
Vulnerable.
Terrified.
“I noticed your haircut…”
They all wait.
She says it like an everyday observation.
“You look like a fuckboy.”
Tanvi cracks, jumping for joy.
“HA!!!! YES!!!”
Leela winks in our direction.
“I told you.”
Then, after waiting a beat, once they’ve all sat down and started whispering to each other, she looks dead at us.
“Now watch this…”
In a flash, she marches back out of her office.
Without a word.
In haste.
Breezing past them toward the flowers resting on the coffee table.
They all jump to their feet.
Necks whiplashing to follow her.
She grabs the card.
Looks at it.
Throws it over her shoulder.
Picks up the flowers.
Drops them in the trash.
Then, before anyone can recover, she marches back into her office, flashing a wink only we can see, and slams the door shut.
***
“Oh no…”
Tanvi’s voice is filled with grief, horror, and regret.
She rushes to the flowers and pulls them out of the trash like a first responder.
“Oh no, no, no, no, no…”
Addy and Tatum look at each other in utter shock.
Tatum’s mouth doesn’t move, but they all hear it.
Well, that didn’t go like I thought it would…
***
Once alone in the office, she sits down in her chair, exhaling.
Her hand on her heart.
Leela blushes.
She looks at us.
Suddenly remembering we’re there.
We must have gotten on her bad side.
“Oh, what are you looking at…”
She gets up and walks toward us.
Her hand reaches out until it’s the only thing we see.
Then, black.
A sweet, wonderful voice:
“Oh, Taylor…if only things were different,” she says wistfully.
Another voice speaks quietly, muffled and farther away.
“Leela, I think your mic’s still on.”
The sound of fabric crumpling.
Leela’s voice:
“What’s that?”
It’s louder this time.
“Your mic’s still on.”
“Shit.”
***
Addy taps on the office door, tentative.
“Come in,” Leela calls.
Addy walks in and sits across from her.
“What’s up, princesa?” Leela asks softly.
Addy hesitates.
“Hey, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Leela looks up, suddenly warm and open.
“What’s up, mami?”
Addy still doesn’t speak.
“Oh my God, is it about Maya? Is everything okay?” Leela asks, concerned.
Addy laughs, reassuring her.
“Oh yes, yes, everything is fine on that front…” she says, lighting up. “Better than fine, actually.”
Leela smiles.
Addy finds the courage to continue.
“It’s about Steven. Did you push him through the workflow?”
Leela studies her.
“Uh, yes, I did. Why?”
Addy struggles to get it out.
“Because I was reviewing his results and…”
Leela’s eyes fill with empathy watching her struggle, but she allows her to be brave.
“…his results are concerning. He’s well below our requirements.”
Leela looks at her with esteem.
“Okay, first of all, I want to say that I’m proud of you.”
She leans toward Addy.
“I know it’s never easy to question the boss, and I want you to always, always, be comfortable coming to me with any concern or disagreement you might have.”
Addy lets out a long exhale and flashes a small smile.
“And…” Leela continues. “You are exactly right about both the results and our standards.”
Addy sits up a little straighter.
“But sometimes, in special cases, we make exceptions. Either because there is information the data doesn’t reveal or because we have reason to believe we can help.”
Leela pauses.
“Does that make sense?”
Addy nods, but she is still clearly struggling.
“I mean, I guess…”
“But…” Leela nudges.
“I know I’m new to this and God knows I’m not one millionth as good as you at this, but…”
She searches for the right words.
“…something about it just doesn’t feel right, Leela. I mean, you mean the world to us, and you put yourself out there in such a vulnerable way week in and week out…”
She looks Leela in the eyes.
“I just feel like you’re putting yourself at risk.”
Leela grabs Addy’s hand in both of hers.
“Ugh…¡Te quiero tanto! I just love you so much.”
She centers herself, then speaks slowly, warmly, and with proper measure.
“I promise you. I’m going to be fine. We are the best…”
She winks and says with playful confidence:
“I’m the best.”
Addy laughs, loosening up.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve made an exception, and it won’t be the last.”
Addy nods, then slowly gets up to leave.
Mostly satisfied.
“Besides…” Leela says. “I probably couldn’t pass some of those tests.”
They both laugh.
“Thanks, Leela.”
Leela pats her heart three times.
“Anytime, Addy. Rules are important and necessary, and they keep us safe. But…”
Leela rocks her head back and forth playfully.
“They’re also made to be broken.”
Addy is all about the mischief.
She walks toward the door, pausing in the frame before turning back.
“By the way, I like your hair down like that. It looks nice.”
Leela blushes and bows slightly.
Gracefully.
“Gracias, mi corazón.”
***
Olivia is looking at Liliana expectantly.
Waiting for an answer.
Liliana can’t even process the question.
She repeats it back slowly.
“You just want to up and go to New Orleans…for five days.”
Olivia nods, confirming each statement.
“In the middle of the semester? For Mardi Gras?”
Olivia is really struggling to see the problem.
“Yes! And I’m gonna pay for everything!”
Liliana is really starting to question whether or not Olivia actually is a bruja.
“Olivia, we are going to get into so much trouble if we do that. If my Abuela finds out, she’ll kill me,” Liliana protests.
Olivia is having none of it.
“Oh, stop. You’re being overdramatic. Besides…”
She flashes a look that Liliana knows means trouble.
“Rules are made to be broken.”
(The End)
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New written episodes drop every Saturday at 10 AM EST on Substack.
With episodes going Audible the following Wednesday.
Leela follows a brilliant high-end escort in Miami who treats intimacy like art, therapy, and a little bit of trouble. It’s erotic, funny, emotional, dangerous, and not the story you think it is.
“Rules are made to be broken” yes!!! Keep it coming! Leela is so charismatic, yet her trauma is starting to show through (attachment, self taught bad ass) the fact that she said she wouldn’t pass the psychological assessment made me chuckle 🤭 I’m ready to see her breakthrough and self-discovery.
Wow