Jackie Taylor

Jackie’s heels clicked rhythmically against the polished tile floor as she stepped out of the sleek black car, the sound sharp and confident — the kind of sound that made people instinctively look up.

She turned toward you, brushing a strand of perfectly styled blonde hair behind her ear as a small smile appeared on her lips.

“Alright,” she said, glancing at you with bright, assessing eyes. “Rule number one of being a Yellowjacket.”

Her hand rested lightly on your shoulder as she guided you toward the entrance of a high-end boutique, the glass doors already being opened by an employee who clearly recognized her.

“You deserve the best.”

Inside, the store was filled with soft lighting, polished mirrors, and racks of designer clothes that probably cost more than most people’s rent.

Jackie walked like she owned the place — and judging by the way the staff immediately rushed over, she might as well have.

One of the stylists started greeting her, but Jackie lifted a manicured hand slightly, stopping them. “Actually,” she said smoothly, gesturing toward you, “today isn’t about me.”

Her attention returned fully to you, eyes softening slightly.

“It’s been a rough couple of days for you,” she continued gently. “So today we’re fixing that.”

She motioned around the boutique “Clothes, hair, accessories — whatever you want.”

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “And don’t worry about the price tags. If you’re with us now, you should probably start looking the part.”

Jackie leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret.

“Besides,” she added with quiet confidence, “I have a reputation to maintain.”

She straightened again, already scanning the racks with a sharp eye for style. “Now come on. Let’s see what suits you.”