Hustle & High Heels: Love and Ambition, Blazz’d Empire Style

The CEO Who Can’t Find Love



The city of Kansas City stretched out before Dakota Blazz, its vibrant skyline bathed in the soft glow of sunset. From her high-rise apartment in the heart of Downtown KC, she could see the traffic snaking through the streets below, the sun casting long shadows over the iconic Power and Light District, and the bustling energy of a city on the rise. Kansas City was a place of reinvention—where ambition met opportunity, and where dreams could be built brick by brick. And Dakota Blazz was nothing if not a woman who had mastered the art of reinvention.

She had built her empire here, among the charm and grit of the Midwest, but in the solitude of her penthouse, the hustle felt far away. She gazed out over the city’s sprawling skyline, feeling the familiar emptiness creeping in as she sipped on a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Her phone buzzed on the glass coffee table beside her, snapping her from her reverie. She glanced at it, a quick flash of hope rising in her chest, only to be deflated when she saw it was another business-related email.

She sighed and reached for the phone, ready to dismiss the latest request for a meeting, when her mind wandered back to the date she had just been on. Another attempt to find someone who could understand her, who could handle her—someone who wouldn’t shrink back from the power and success she had worked so hard to achieve.

But, of course, it hadn’t gone as planned.

It had started out promising enough. Todd, a confident car salesman with a laid-back, easygoing attitude, had swiped right on her Facebook Dating profile. Even though he had always preferred white women, there was something about Dakota that caught his eye, something intriguing enough to break his usual pattern. He had called her a “diamond in the rough,” which made Dakota feel a strange mix of flattery and discomfort. It was as if he was acknowledging her potential while somehow implying that she wasn’t quite polished yet.

They met on Facebook Dating, and first date played pool. There was genuine chemistry there, but there was also hesitation on both parts. They met at one of the trendier rooftop bars in downtown Kansas City, the sparkling skyline below setting the perfect backdrop. The weather was warm, the drinks were cold, and the conversation flowed naturally at first. Todd seemed genuinely interested in Dakota’s career he asked insightful questions about her businesses, and she found herself laughing, feeling the chemistry build. Maybe this could be something different.

But as the night wore on, the dynamic shifted, subtly at first. It wasn’t in what Todd said, but in the way he said it. The admiration in his voice started to morph into something else something that felt condescending. He leaned back in his seat, swirling his drink, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and judgment.

He said, “Honestly, I’ve gotta say, I just find white women so much easier to deal with. They don’t come with all that extra attitude or drama like Black women do. It’s just a lot more peaceful. They don’t expect you to constantly keep up with their strength and independence. It’s nice to be with someone who knows how to be more... relaxed."

The words hit Dakota like a slap. He disrespected her on a level that couldn't be explained. He hurt the little girl inside of her—the little Black girl inside of her—because he's a Black man.

She could feel her smile freeze, her mind racing to process the subtle, but deeply offensive implication in his tone. She had heard this before—men who saw her success, her strength, and her independence as burdens, something to be feared or avoided.

“That’s not really the life I want,” Dakota replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t need someone to ‘take care of me.’ I’m doing just fine on my own.”

Todd raised an eyebrow, as if her response had surprised him. “I’m not saying you aren’t,” he said with a slight chuckle. “I just think it would be nice for you to relax a little, enjoy life. Let someone else handle the work for once. You deserve it.”

The more Todd spoke, the more Dakota felt the walls go up. It was as though he saw her independence and strength as flaws, things that needed to be "fixed." She had worked tirelessly to get where she was, to build her empire, yet he was speaking as though her success was too much for a woman to handle on her own. As if her success made her less deserving of genuine love.

Being with Todd felt like winning the lottery until I realized it was a scratch-off with no prize. You know, that moment of excitement followed by *nothing* but a sad, empty feeling.

By the end of the night, she excused herself, leaving Todd with his drink and his subtle judgments, probably wondering if he'd get a refund for the emotional investment.

As she walked away, she couldn't help but wonder if she would always be seen as too much—too independent, too successful, too intimidating. It was like she was the "limited edition" version of a cereal box, and Todd was more into the plain, generic kind. She had no intention of dimming her light for anyone, but it hurt to think that her brightness might be the very reason she'd always be alone. It was like shining too brightly and getting a "Sorry, we're all full" sign from the universe.

---

Another glass of wine. Another round of disappointment.

The door to her apartment buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Dakota picked up the phone, unlocking it, and saw the message from Shyla.
*“You home?
Wine and weed time. I heard you needed to vent.”*

Dakota couldn’t help but smile. If there was one person who truly understood her, it was Shyla. A woman who had her own set of challenges—being a firefighter in a male-dominated field—and who had no patience for the superficial games men played. Shyla wasn’t afraid of strength, of ambition, of success. And, best of all, she never judged Dakota for it. They were two women who had built their empires from the ground up, who fought the world every day and still found time to laugh, vent, and support each other. It was in these moments that Dakota felt truly understood.

“Come on up,” Dakota replied, standing and grabbing the bottle of wine she had set aside earlier. She poured herself another glass, knowing the night was about to shift for the better. Her friendship with Shyla was a lifeline in a world that often felt like it was designed for people who weren’t quite as ambitious, weren’t quite as driven, and certainly weren’t as successful.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside her apartment, and the door swung open.

“Girl, I brought the wine and the joint. We need to talk,” Shyla said, grinning from ear to ear. Her firefighter uniform was a little wrinkled, and her face was flushed from a long shift, but her energy was infectious. “So, who is it this time? Another dude who can’t handle a powerful woman?”

“Todd” Dakota replied, folding her legs on the couch and taking another

dramatic sigh.

“Girl, you won’t believe this. Todd—yeah, the charming, handsome, successful guy—he was all good at first, right? I’m talking, like, Mr. Smooth. But the minute I brought up my companies, it was like the man *literally* started sweating.”

Shyla raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “What happened?”

“I’m over here, you know, talking about my latest project, and he goes, ‘Well, I think you should let someone else take care of you.’” Dakota leaned back dramatically. “I’m like, *What?* Excuse me, sir? I’ve been taking care of myself just fine since, like, forever. I don’t need you to come swooping in like some white knight with a trust fund.”

Shyla nearly choked on her wine. “Wait, what?! No way he said that!”

“Girl, yes! And it gets worse! He starts acting all weird, like suddenly, my empire isn’t a *good* thing. He tells me I shouldn’t be working so hard. ‘You deserve to be taken care of,’ he says.” Dakota rolled her eyes so far back it almost looked painful. “Like, what is this, 1950? I’m over here building an empire, and he’s acting like I’m supposed to sit around waiting for someone to rescue me?”

Shyla burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. “Oh my god, no he didn’t! What’s wrong with these men? They love the idea of a powerful woman until they realize she’s *not* just some accessory to show off at parties. They want the trophy, not a partner. That’s the KC way.”

“I swear, it’s like they don’t know what to do with a woman who has her own goals,” Dakota said, shaking her head. “I mean, I’m out here grinding, building something real, and this dude’s like, ‘Nah, you need to chill. Let me take care of you.’ No thanks, buddy. I don’t need anyone to take care of me—I need someone who’s gonna keep up with me, you know?”

“Exactly!” Shyla took a long drag from her joint, clearly entertained by the whole situation. “And don’t even get me started on the women Todd’s into. You know he’s out here dating those girls who think ‘empowerment’ means buying a yoga mat and posting inspirational quotes on Instagram. Like, *please*.”

Dakota laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch. “Right? And then they wonder why they can’t handle a real, strong woman. I’ve got my own businesses, my own life, and you want me to sit back and let you handle things? I’m *good* on that. I don’t need no man trying to ‘rescue’ me from my own success.”

Shyla raised her glass. “Here’s to that, girl. We’ve been hustling since day one, and we don’t need anyone messing that up. If a man can’t handle us, he can stay in the background with his little ‘fixer’ complex.”

Dakota grinned. “Exactly. I’m over here just trying to find a partner—not some dude trying to make me ‘his project.’”

They both clinked their glasses in agreement, and then Dakota sighed with contentment. “Honestly, I’m starting to think maybe the only thing I really need right now is my friends. You, the girls—we’ve got each other, and that’s more than enough. If a man comes along who can keep up with me? Cool. If not, I’ll be just fine.”

Shyla smiled, nodding. “Hell yeah, girl. We’ve got your back. Now, let’s just focus on the empire, and leave these boys to their ‘rescuer’ fantasies.”

As they both relaxed into the couch, the door knocked, signaling the arrival of Billie and Izzy. “And here come the peanut gallery,” Dakota said, laughing as she went to answer. “Bet they’ve got plenty to say about Todd, too.”

And just like that, Dakota felt a wave of comfort. She had everything she needed—friends who got her, a life she loved, and no need for some guy who couldn’t handle a woman who knew her worth.
---



**Chapter 2: Shyla – Firefighting and Fighting for Love**



The sun had barely risen over Kansas City, Missouri, casting a pale light over the city streets. Shyla was already on the move, her day starting before the rest of the world had even opened their eyes. As a fire captain, she was used to the early mornings, the adrenaline, and the pressure. But today, as she sped through the empty streets of Downtown Kansas City in her black SUV, there was something else weighing on her mind.

It wasn’t the possibility of a burning building or the chaos that awaited her at the station. It wasn’t the ongoing battle to prove herself in a field dominated by men. It wasn’t even the trauma she had witnessed over the years, the lives lost and saved. No, today, it was the damn date.

Another one. Another disaster.

She pulled into the parking lot of the fire station #23 and threw the car into park. The familiar scent of gasoline, smoke, and the faint trace of sweat greeted her as she walked into the station, where her team was already assembling. Despite the constant pressure of her job, Shyla had learned to find a certain peace in the chaos of firefighting. It was the only thing that could truly take her mind off the disappointments that came with dating in Kansas City, MO.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she pulled off her jacket, heading toward the locker room. It was a text from Dakota: *"Wine and Weed tonight? I need to vent. Let's debrief our disaster dates."*

Shyla smiled to herself, grateful for the unbreakable bond she had with Dakota. In a world where men and expectations constantly tried to break her down, Dakota was her rock. Together, they could weather any storm. And tonight, it was going to be all about venting. The date she’d gone on with Trevor, the so-called “perfect man” she’d met at a local charity event, had been a train wreck from the very start.

Trevor was everything a woman could want on paper: tall, well-dressed, handsome, and successful. A lawyer with his own practice, he was kind, charming, and had a smile that could light up a room. Shyla had been hesitant at first—she didn’t usually date lawyers. But Trevor’s smooth talk and easygoing nature had eventually worn her down.

They had met at a fundraiser at a trendy rooftop bar in Kansas City. The event was glitzy, with wealthy patrons mingling over cocktails, and Shyla had dressed to impress, wearing a red dress that hugged her curves and a pair of stilettos that added a few extra inches to her height. Trevor had been equally polished, greeting her with a smile and a glass of champagne. For a brief moment, she had felt the chemistry between them, something that hadn’t happened in a while.

But then came the subtle digs.

It started innocently enough. Trevor asked her about her job—curious, engaged. He was impressed when she told him she was a fire captain. But then his words began to shift. The look on his face wasn’t one of admiration, but of something else. It was as if he saw her strength as a threat, as if the fact that she was a leader, a woman in charge, was something he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around.

“I just can’t imagine being in a profession like yours,” Trevor had said, swirling his glass. “I mean, don’t you ever feel like you’re just… in danger all the time? I guess I could never handle that kind of risk.”

Shyla had smiled politely, but the comment hit a nerve. She wasn’t a fragile flower who needed someone to take care of her. In fact, it was the opposite. She’d spent her entire career proving that women like her could handle anything, could be leaders, could thrive in environments that were supposed to be off-limits for them.

“I’m used to it,” she replied coolly, trying to keep the conversation light. “It’s part of the job. If you’re not ready to risk it all, then this isn’t the career for you.”

But Trevor didn’t let it go. The next few hours were filled with subtle jabs, as if he were trying to make her feel like her strength was a flaw, her independence a burden.

“I mean, what about your personal life?” he asked. “How do you juggle a career like yours with, you know, having a life outside of work? I would imagine that would be hard to manage.”

The comment stung, but Shyla kept her cool. She wasn’t about to let him see how much his words affected her. “I make it work. Just like anyone else. I find time for the people who matter, and I don’t let my job define me. But don’t get me wrong—my job is a huge part of who I am.”

“Sure, but it’s got to get exhausting, right? All that responsibility…” Trevor trailed off, as if trying to figure out how to phrase his next insult in a way that wouldn’t be too obvious.

That was when Shyla knew. Trevor wasn’t impressed by her. He wasn’t even interested in her as a person. He was interested in the idea of her—a strong, independent woman who could be broken down, who could be “handled.” She wasn’t the woman he thought he could control. She was the woman who had carved out her own path in a world that told her she couldn’t.

By the time they had parted ways that night, she had known there would be no second date. The chemistry was gone, replaced by frustration and disappointment.

As Shyla grabbed her gear and headed out to the truck for a scheduled drill, she felt the weight of the past few days settle into her shoulders. The world saw her as a strong, unbreakable woman, and she had earned that reputation. But what no one seemed to understand was that sometimes, even the strongest woman needed someone to lean on. And Shyla was tired. She was tired of pretending that she didn’t want a partner who would see her as an equal, not as a challenge. She was tired of playing it cool, of letting the world think that being a fire captain meant she didn’t need love.

The drill was grueling, just as it always was. The team worked through mock scenarios—rescue operations, hazardous material containment, the high-stress situations that required quick thinking and even quicker reflexes. But as the day wore on, Shyla’s mind kept drifting back to Trevor. To the men she had dated in the past. The ones who never seemed to understand her, who saw her as too much, too strong, too independent. It was the same story every time.

When her shift finally ended, Shyla was more than ready to get home, to kick off her boots and settle into the couch with a glass of wine. And, of course, to meet up with Dakota for their usual debrief. It was the only thing that kept her sane—talking things out with her best friend. They didn’t need to say much to understand each other; they just got it.

By the time Shyla walked into the apartment, Dakota was already waiting for her, the couch surrounded by wine glasses, a joint already lit, and the air filled with the sweet scent of cannabis.

“Rough day?” Dakota asked, looking up from her phone with a knowing smile.

“You could say that,” Shyla replied, flopping down onto the couch. “Let’s just say Trevor’s idea of ‘handling’ a strong woman is telling her that she needs someone to take care of her.”

Dakota raised an eyebrow. “What? He said that?”

“Oh, yeah. The whole ‘you can’t be a fire captain and have a life’ speech. I’m so over it, D. I’m done with these men who think they can change us, fix us, or whatever the hell they think they can do.”

Dakota laughed, pouring them both a glass of wine. “Girl, same. The dating scene in KC is a damn circus. But hey, at least we’ve got each other.”

Shyla took a deep breath, the weight of the day slowly lifting. “You’re right. And maybe one day, we’ll find someone who doesn’t want to change us, just appreciates us for who we are.”

“Until then,” Dakota said with a wink, “we’ll keep having wine and weed nights. Nothing beats venting with a good friend.”

Shyla smiled, the tension of the day fading into the comfort of her best friend’s company. Maybe love was complicated, maybe it was elusive, but for now, she had everything she needed.

---


**Chapter 3: Billie – Hustler in Heels, Lost in Love**



The neon lights flickered above the stage as Billie danced effortlessly across the pole, her body a blur of rhythm and grace. The club was packed as usual, the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses blending together in a symphony of indulgence. For Billie, this was second nature. She was in her element, surrounded by admirers, slipping in and out of characters, commanding the attention of the entire room without even trying.

She had been doing this for years—building an empire with her body, her charm, and her relentless drive. Billie was the highest-paid stripper in Kansas City Missouri, a title she wore like a badge of honor. But beyond the heels and the glitz, beyond the glitter and the tips, there was a side to Billie that few ever saw. And even fewer ever appreciated.

Billie’s life was one of contradiction. She had built her career from nothing, using her beauty and street smarts to climb to the top of an industry that often overlooked women like her. She was a hustler, a self-made woman who could talk anyone into doing anything—whether it was getting a man to buy her a drink or convincing a CEO to sponsor a charity event. She was sharp, quick-witted, and never let anyone see how vulnerable she really was.

But when it came to love, Billie was at a loss.

Tonight had been no different from any other. The club was loud, the music thumping in her chest as she moved with the grace of a dancer who had long since mastered her craft. She smiled, twirled, and dipped, her eyes catching those of the wealthy businessmen and the flirtatious bachelors in the crowd. They were mesmerized by her performance, each man throwing bills at her like they were paying for a glimpse into her soul. But none of them truly saw her. None of them understood what it was like to be her.

Billie had learned early on that men liked her for the wrong reasons. They were drawn to her beauty, her confidence, and the way she commanded attention—but they never saw past the surface. They never understood the work she put in, the way she’d fought for every penny she made, the sacrifices she’d made to build a life that wasn’t defined by her job.

When the night finally wound down, and the last song echoed through the club, Billie made her way offstage, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She grabbed her coat from the back room and glanced at herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup with a practiced hand. It wasn’t vanity; it was necessity. Out there, in that world, Billie had to look perfect, had to be perfect. But when she looked in the mirror, she wasn’t sure who was staring back at her.

The man who had just offered her a VIP experience for the night? He saw her as a fantasy, a thing to possess. The other men who had slipped her hundreds and thousand-dollar bills for a dance? They admired her but never respected her. They never looked at her as more than a beautiful woman who could entertain them. They wanted the fantasy she created onstage, but none of them were willing to face the reality that Billie was a complex, multi-dimensional person.

As she slipped out the back door of the club, she lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, her mind wandering. It was moments like this when she felt the weight of the loneliness pressing on her. She had a life many women dreamed of—success, wealth, influence—but when she closed her eyes, when she took off the heels and the makeup, she was just like the rest of them: lonely, yearning for connection.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She pulled it out, seeing a text from Shyla: *“Wine and weed time? Need to vent. Your turn, sis.”*

Billie smiled to herself, the invitation a familiar comfort. It was one of those nights where nothing could ease the tension in her body like spending time with Dakota and Shyla. The three of them had been through so much together—the highs, the lows, and everything in between. They understood each other in ways no one else did. And tonight, Billie was ready to talk.

The drive home was short, but the thoughts swirling in her mind made it feel longer. Billie’s relationship with love was complicated, to say the least. She had dated her fair share of men—some rich, some poor, some young, some older—but none of them had been able to see past her exterior. It always seemed like they wanted to possess her rather than love her. They wanted to experience the fantasy of who they thought she was, not the woman who had struggled to build herself up, who had worked tirelessly to carve a path in an industry that tried to swallow her whole.

Her most recent date was a prime example. Ethan was a tech millionaire—a good-looking guy who seemed to have it all. He was charming, confident, and could hold a conversation. He was smooth, the kind of man who knew how to flatter a woman, how to get under her skin and make her feel special. Billie had let her guard down a little, thinking maybe, just maybe, he was different.

But as the night wore on, the cracks started to show.

Ethan had taken her to one of Kansas City ’s most exclusive restaurants. The food was incredible, the wine even better, but the whole time, Billie couldn’t shake the feeling that he was more interested in the idea of her than in her as a person. He asked about her career, about how much money she made, about the clients she worked with, and every question was wrapped in an air of judgment. He wasn’t curious about her life or her struggles—he was fascinated by the money, the fame, the illusion.

At one point, after she’d mentioned her work with Dakota and the businesses they were running together, Ethan leaned in, his smile widening. “So, do you ever get tired of... you know, dancing? I mean, you’ve made so much money. Why not just retire and live the good life?”

Billie had blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, as if it were the simplest question in the world. “I just think it’s strange. You’re so beautiful, so intelligent. You could be doing anything. Why this?”

Billie had paused, her thoughts swirling. She knew what he was implying. He wasn’t asking if she enjoyed her job. He was asking why a woman like her was doing something so ‘lowly,’ something so beneath her supposed ‘potential.’

She had put down her wine glass with a cool smile, responding calmly. “This is how I built my empire. This is where I came from. You may not get it, but that’s okay. Not everyone needs to.”

Ethan had seemed unfazed, but Billie knew it was the beginning of the end for them. By the time the night wrapped up, she knew there was no second date. Ethan would never be the man who saw her as more than a spectacle. He would never see Billie as the woman who hustled every night, the woman who had built a business, the woman who could dominate in every room she entered.

When she arrived at Dakota’s apartment later that night, she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. She slipped off her coat, grabbing the wine glass Dakota had already poured for her and sitting down on the couch with a long, exhausted sigh.

“Here we go again,” Billie said, swirling the wine. “Another guy who thinks he can ‘fix’ me.”

Shyla looked over, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Another one, huh?”

Billie nodded, leaning back into the couch. “I’m starting to think I’ll never find someone who gets it. They all want the fantasy. The hot stripper with the perfect body and the glamorous life. But none of them want the real me. None of them want the hustler, the entrepreneur, the woman who’s actually building something.”

Dakota raised her glass. “I’m starting to think maybe you don’t need anyone to ‘get’ you. You’ve got your empire, you’ve got us.”

Billie smiled. “Yeah, I do have you two. And maybe that’s enough for now.”

They all sat there in comfortable silence, letting the weight of the world melt away with the wine and the weed. They were a team, a sisterhood built on mutual understanding, the one place where Billie could finally take off the mask and just be herself.

---


**Chapter 4: Izzy – Code, Calculations, and Unsolvable Problems**


The glow of the computer screen was the only light in the room. The faint hum of the server tower in the corner was a comforting background noise to Izzy as she hunched over her desk, fingers flying over the keyboard with the precision of a surgeon. To most, this room would feel sterile—cold, perhaps, even a little intimidating. But to Izzy, it was home. This was where she thrived, where she could lose herself in the world of ones and zeros, a world that was clear, logical, and where every problem had a solution.

Izzy had always been different from the rest of the world. While her friends were out socializing, going on dates, living life with all the messiness and unpredictability that came with it, Izzy found solace in code. As the head of operations for all of Dakota’s businesses, she had built systems that kept everything running smoothly, managing the logistics, the data, and the behind-the-scenes functions that kept the empire growing. She wasn’t interested in the spotlight like Dakota or Billie. She didn’t crave the adrenaline rush that came with firefighting like Shyla. But in the digital world, Izzy was untouchable. She was a prodigy, an award-winning computer technician whose mind could untangle the most complicated codes.

Yet, no matter how brilliant she was in her career, Izzy struggled with relationships. There was something about her—something that made men nervous. Maybe it was her quiet nature, the fact that she preferred to stay out of the limelight, or maybe it was her intelligence that scared them. But whatever it was, men rarely got past the surface with her.

Tonight, she was avoiding thinking about it. She had just wrapped up a massive project for Wake and Bake Blazz’d Treats, developing a new online store platform that would streamline their sales and help them reach more customers. It was one of the many projects she’d tackled over the past few months, and it had consumed her attention. That was the way Izzy worked: when she dove into something, she went all in. But now that it was done, her mind wandered.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it. A text from Dakota: *"Wine and weed time tonight? We need your wisdom, Izzy. You’ve been quiet lately."*

Izzy sighed, smiling to herself. She’d been working long hours on various projects, mostly at the expense of her social life. And despite her reluctance to engage, she knew she needed this. The quiet company of her friends had a way of grounding her, of reminding her that there was more to life than code and algorithms.

She grabbed her jacket and stepped out of the apartment, taking a deep breath of the crisp Kansas City Missouri, evening air. The city was always alive, its lights a reflection of the busy, chaotic energy that pulsed through it. But for Izzy, the quiet stillness of the night was where she found peace.

By the time she arrived at Dakota’s apartment, the familiar scent of cannabis filled the air. Dakota and Shyla were already settled on the couch, wine glasses in hand, the conversation light but familiar.

“Look who finally showed up,” Shyla teased as Izzy entered, offering her a warm smile. “Thought you might’ve been too busy saving the world with all that tech wizardry.”

Izzy smiled shyly, shrugging as she took a seat next to Shyla. “I was finishing up a project for Wake and Bake Blazz’d Treats. It’s finally done.”

Dakota handed her a glass of wine, raising an eyebrow. “Nice. We’ll drink to that. But, I’ll be honest, I’m more interested in hearing about *your* dating disasters tonight. We’ve all been talking about ours. It’s only fair we get your perspective.”

Izzy laughed softly, the sound almost a rarity. “You want to hear about my dating life?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s pretty uneventful.”

“Oh, come on,” Dakota pressed. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s at least tried to get to know you. You’re brilliant, Izzy. I’m sure the tech world is full of admirers.”

Izzy took a sip of wine, her thoughts drifting back to the last man who’d tried to date her—Elliot, a fellow software engineer she’d met at a conference. He had been smart, driven, and genuinely interested in her work. They had clicked intellectually, exchanging ideas and coding techniques over coffee and late-night coding sessions. For a while, it seemed like they had something special—an intellectual bond that she hadn’t experienced before.

But, as with all her past relationships, it didn’t take long for things to fall apart.

Their dates had been filled with talk of work. They’d exchanged notes on their latest projects, debated the merits of different coding languages, and shared tips on optimizing software. It was a connection that felt natural to her, but Elliot had begun to grow frustrated. One night, after a particularly long session debugging some code for a startup they both worked with, Elliot had pulled away, the tension in the air palpable.

“You’re just not... present,” he had said, his voice low but sharp. “It’s like your head is always in the cloud, always thinking about the next project, the next line of code. I can’t keep up with that.”

Izzy had been caught off guard. To her, the work they did was a form of connection, a way to share something meaningful. But for Elliot, it had felt like a barrier.

“What do you mean? I thought we were working together. I thought we were sharing something,” Izzy had responded, confused and a little hurt.

Elliot had sighed. “It’s not just about the work. I need more, Izzy. I need someone who can talk to me, who can be with me outside of this... this world you’re constantly in.”

Izzy had sat there in stunned silence, trying to process his words. The truth was, she hadn’t known how to separate her work life from her personal life. It had always been easier to bury herself in projects, to stay busy and productive, than to try to figure out how to connect with someone emotionally.

That night, after the conversation, Izzy had known it was over. Elliot had wanted more than she could give. And Izzy had realized that perhaps the problem wasn’t just with him—it was with her. She wasn’t sure how to open up, how to let someone in. It wasn’t that she didn’t want love. It was that love, in her mind, felt like an unpredictable problem, something she couldn’t calculate or control.

Back in Dakota’s apartment, she shook her head at the memory, feeling a mix of regret and frustration. “Elliot was the last guy I dated,” she said softly. “It didn’t work out. He wanted more from me—more than just my brain. And I... I didn’t know how to give it.”

Shyla nodded sympathetically. “I get it. Sometimes, it’s hard to find someone who understands the balance between work and personal life. Especially when you’re like us—when work is so consuming, so all-encompassing.”

Izzy glanced at her friends. She felt a pang of gratitude. They understood her in ways no one else did. They didn’t expect her to change, to fit into some mold of what a woman should be. They saw her for who she truly was—the quiet genius with a brilliant mind, the woman who could solve any problem except the one that mattered most: how to connect with a partner on a deeper level.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for love,” Izzy said softly. “Maybe I’m just better off on my own. I mean, who could really understand a life like mine?”

Dakota leaned in, her expression thoughtful. “Izzy, you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to have everything figured out. The right person will understand that. Hell, look at us—we’re all a mess in our own way. But we’ve got each other.”

Izzy smiled softly, the tension in her shoulders easing. Maybe love wasn’t about finding someone who could complete her. Maybe it was about finding someone who could accept her flaws, her quirks, and her complex life. Maybe it wasn’t as much about fixing the problems as it was about accepting them.

She took another sip of wine, feeling the warmth spread through her body. For tonight, at least, she didn’t need to solve anything. She had her friends. And that was enough.

---


**Chapter 5: Ali – Dressed to Impress, But Still Undressed in Love**



Ali stood in front of the full-length mirror in her boutique, admiring the new fall collection she had just curated. Her fingers traced the delicate fabric of a silk gown, her mind already calculating how it would look on the runway, how it would make the women who wore it feel. She had spent years building her reputation, and it was all paying off. The boutique was thriving, and her fashion line was becoming a name that even the most discerning critics took seriously.

Her eyes sparkled with passion as she moved to another rack, flipping through dresses that hung perfectly in place, each one a work of art, a piece of herself she had poured into it. But despite all the accolades, the press interviews, and the success, something was missing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew. Ali was a woman who had it all on the outside: beauty, brains, a booming business. But inside, she felt like there was a part of her that no one ever saw—the part that yearned for something real, something more than the flashy dates and fleeting romances that came with being the go-to stylist for Kansas City's elite.

She grabbed a pair of heels from the shoe display, slipping them on as she turned back to the mirror. She was always perfectly put together—her hair was immaculate, her makeup flawless, her outfits impeccable. Ali was a woman who commanded attention when she walked into a room, not just because of her beauty, but because of the confidence she carried with her. She was a professional, an artist in her own right, and she knew how to make a statement with every step she took.

But there was one problem: she had never been able to make a statement in her love life.

Ali’s dating history was a litany of misfires. There had been a few high-profile relationships—men who were attracted to her glamour, her style, and her confidence—but they never lasted. The men she dated couldn’t handle the fact that Ali was a woman who didn’t need saving. She didn’t need someone to take care of her, and she didn’t need a man to validate her success. She had built everything on her own, from the ground up, and while that was empowering in so many ways, it was also isolating.

Her most recent fling had been with Jason, a prominent Hollywood director. On paper, they seemed like the perfect match—he was successful, charming, and had a reputation for being a ladies’ man, just like her. But the chemistry between them was more of a spark than a fire, and soon, Jason’s casual attitude towards their “relationship” began to show. He never really made the effort, and when he did, it was always to fit her into a box that didn’t quite match the woman she was.

It had all come to a head one night when Jason had suggested they go on a “low-key” date, something more “normal.” He had planned a dinner at a trendy new spot in the city, but the way he had phrased it made Ali feel like he was treating her as if she were just another “beautiful woman” who needed to be tamed, someone who didn’t belong in the circles she had built for herself.

“So, what do you think?” Jason had asked, his arm draped around her shoulders. “Maybe we could slow things down. You know, just be regular for once?”

Ali had felt a pang in her chest. She had pulled away slightly, forcing a smile. “Regular?” she repeated. “Jason, I’ve spent my whole life building this. I’ve fought for everything I have. I’m not ‘regular.’ And I’m definitely not here to fit into some mold you want to put me in. If you don’t see me for who I am—this woman—then there’s no point in this.”

Jason had looked at her, clearly taken aback by her response. But instead of trying to understand her, he had shrugged and moved on to the next topic, as if brushing off the real conversation they needed to have.

That was the final straw for Ali. She had ended things with Jason that night, not with anger, but with a quiet resolve. She didn’t need him, or anyone else, to make her feel like she wasn’t enough. She was already enough. But the loneliness lingered, haunting her in moments when she let her guard down.

Tonight, she wasn’t about to let herself spiral into those thoughts. She had a routine, a way of coping with the complexities of love and relationships that she had developed over the years. She had her boutique, her fashion line, and her creative outlets. She had her friends—her sisterhood of women who, despite their own trials and tribulations, always understood her better than anyone else.

As she slipped into a pair of designer jeans and a crop top, Ali was preparing herself for another night at Dakota’s apartment. They had all agreed to meet up, as they often did, to unwind with wine, weed, and conversation. It was the one time she didn’t have to be “the boss” or “the designer.” It was the one time she could be Ali—the woman who just wanted to connect, to share, and to find some semblance of understanding in a world that often felt too fast and too superficial.

When she arrived, the group was already gathered. Shyla, Billie, and Izzy were there, as usual, sprawled out on the couch, each one with a glass of wine in hand. Dakota was busy in the kitchen, preparing snacks, always the hostess.

“Look at you,” Billie teased, eyeing Ali’s outfit. “That’s a new vibe. You trying to make someone jealous?”

Ali rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “I’m just living my best life, Billie. No time for jealousy.”

They all laughed, and Ali joined them, settling onto the couch with a glass of wine. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did when the four of them were together. They shared their latest work triumphs, the ups and downs of running multiple businesses, and, of course, their dating disasters.

“So, what happened with Jason?” Shyla asked, taking a sip of her wine. “You two seemed like you were really hitting it off.”

Ali sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “I don’t know. I think he just couldn’t handle the fact that I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone to validate my success or my life. And he couldn’t get past that. So, I ended things.”

Billie snorted. “That’s probably for the best. Any man who can’t handle a woman being the boss doesn’t deserve you.”

Izzy nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if they’re intimidated by your success, they’re not the right one.”

Ali smiled at her friends’ support, but a part of her still felt that familiar ache. It wasn’t that she wanted someone to “rescue” her. It was that she wanted someone who could see her as more than just a glamorous figure, someone who would understand that, beneath the designer clothes and the polished exterior, she was a woman just like any other, craving love, connection, and authenticity.

As the night wore on, the conversation turned to lighter topics, but Ali found herself lost in thought. Love seemed so complicated, so elusive. She knew what she didn’t want, but finding the right person who could meet her halfway—who could appreciate her for the woman she was—seemed like a distant dream.

But for tonight, she was content with her friends. She was content to be herself without the pressure of the world outside. Maybe tomorrow, she would figure out the next step in her love life. But for now, she was just Ali—the woman who could conquer the fashion world, the woman who could stand tall and strong, even when it felt like everything else was falling apart.

---

Chapter 6: Billie – Hustling Through the Highs and Lows

Billie had always been the center of attention. It wasn’t just her fiery red hair or the way she could strut across the room in heels that had men—and women—tripping over their words. No, Billie’s power came from her confidence. She could make anyone feel like they were the most important person in the room, with a smile that was as calculated as it was magnetic. And if you weren’t paying attention, she could outsmart you in the blink of an eye. Billie wasn’t just a stripper—she was a hustler, and the highest paid in the game. She had been for years.

But when she wasn’t at the club, performing for a crowd of eager and often intoxicated men, she was running marketing for all of Dakota’s businesses. Her ability to convince, to sell anything, was her superpower. From the cannabis world to the boutique and baked goods, Billie had a knack for finding exactly what people wanted before they even knew they wanted it.

Tonight, Billie was pacing in the living room of Dakota’s apartment, her phone glued to her ear. She had just ended a meeting with a potential new sponsor for *Blazzup Boutique*. Business was booming, but so were her dating problems. She had been texting with a guy for the past week—Jared, an up-and-coming actor with a reputation for being as charming as he was shallow.

“Yeah, babe, I got it,” Billie said into the phone, rolling her eyes. “I’ll meet you at the usual spot. No, I don’t care if it’s late. I’m not your damn girlfriend, okay?”

She hung up, her lips curling into a wry smile. Jared was good-looking, sure. But he was predictable. It was the same story with every man she met—charm first, emotions later. And it always ended the same way: no commitment, no depth. Just another round of “let’s get drinks and maybe I’ll see you again.”

She tossed her phone onto the coffee table and flopped down on the couch. Dakota looked up from the kitchen, where she was preparing some snacks, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” Dakota asked, knowing full well that Billie’s life was never as simple as it seemed.

Billie leaned back, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “Just another guy who thinks a few lines of sweet talk are enough to get me in bed.” She let out a low chuckle. “I’m tired of being the one who calls the shots. Sometimes, I wish someone else would take the lead for once.”

Dakota set the snacks down and sat beside her. “Is that what you really want? Someone to take charge?”

Billie shrugged, biting her lip. “I don’t know, Dak. I’ve been on so many dates where the guy’s more interested in my body than my mind. I’m just tired of being a ‘thing’ to them, you know?”

Dakota nodded, understanding exactly where Billie was coming from. “I get it. You’re not just a pretty face. You’re one of the sharpest, most driven women I know. If they can’t see that, they’re not worth your time.”

Billie smiled, the tension lifting from her shoulders. She appreciated Dakota’s words. At times, she did wish someone could see past her image, but in the world she lived in, that was rare. Men didn’t know how to handle a woman who was in control of her own life. They wanted someone to admire them, to need them. And that wasn’t Billie.

“Maybe I’ll just stay single for a while,” Billie said, cracking open a bottle of wine. “At least that way, I won’t have to deal with all the bullshit.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Billie found herself laughing again, surrounded by her friends who knew her better than anyone. She may not have figured out the dating game, but tonight, she didn’t care. She was a queen in her own right, and no one—man or woman—could take that away from her.

---

**Chapter 7: Shyla – The Hero Who Can’t Save Herself**

Shyla had always been the strong one. As a fire captain, she was used to being in charge, making split-second decisions that could mean life or death. The adrenaline, the responsibility—it was all a part of the job. But when it came to her personal life, Shyla was lost in a firestorm of her own emotions, unable to put out the flames.

She had been in relationships that burned bright and fast, each one leaving her scarred in different ways. There had been Derek, the charming guy who was “too busy” for her, and then there was Marcus, the one who used her as a rebound after his ex had left him. Shyla had given her heart away, only to watch it go up in smoke.

It wasn’t that Shyla didn’t have men who were interested. On the contrary, they were drawn to her strength and beauty. But the reality was, the men who approached her often didn’t understand her. They didn’t get the weight of her job, the way she couldn’t always predict when she’d be called into work. They couldn’t understand the toll it took on her—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Tonight was no different. As Shyla sat down with her wine, her mind drifted back to the last date she’d had. A nice guy. Jace. He’d seemed different—sweet, thoughtful, and genuine. But once they started talking about her job, things had started to unravel.

“I get it, Shyla,” Jace had said, trying to be understanding. “But it’s like you’re never really *here*, you know? You’re always on call, always looking out for the next emergency.”

Shyla had been taken aback. She had thought Jace would be the one to understand her dedication. But instead, he’d felt like he was competing with her career.

“I can’t just turn this off,” she had told him, trying to explain. “This is who I am. It’s my calling.”

But in the end, he hadn’t been able to deal with her commitment to her job, and they’d parted ways.

“I’m sorry, Shyla,” he had said, regret in his voice. “But I don’t think we’re what each other needs.”

Sitting on the couch now, Shyla took another sip of wine, her mind still on Jace. She loved her job, but it had a way of consuming her. And the one thing she had always wished for—someone who could love her fully, despite the chaos of her job—had once again eluded her.

Billie, noticing Shyla’s quiet demeanor, leaned in. “What’s on your mind?”

Shyla sighed, glancing at her friend. “I just don’t get it, Bill. I’m a damn fire captain. I save people’s lives. But when it comes to love? I can’t even save myself.”

Billie nudged her with a grin. “Love is a burning building, babe. You don’t always have the right equipment to fight the fire.”

Shyla laughed, the weight of her thoughts momentarily lifted. “Guess I’ll just have to keep searching for the right fireman.”

---
**Chapter 8: Dakota – The CEO Who Can’t Manage Love**

Dakota Blazz was a force to be reckoned with. She had built an empire from the ground up—three successful companies that catered to the 420 lifestyle, with a combination of luxury, cannabis, and fun that made her a household name. But despite her success, Dakota was starting to feel like the one thing she couldn’t control was her love life.

As the CEO of *First Ladies of Cannabis*, *Blazzup Boutique*, and *Wake and Bake Blazz’d Treats*, she was always working. There were deals to close, investors to impress, and companies to run. But in between it all, she longed for something real. Someone who saw her as more than just the business mogul, the woman who had it all together. She wanted to be seen, to be loved for the person she truly was.

Her last relationship had been with Aaron, a charming entrepreneur who had initially swept her off her feet with his ambition and drive. But as the months went on, Dakota began to feel the cracks in their relationship. Aaron was always trying to compete with her success, undermining her in subtle ways, and when he couldn’t keep up, he turned resentful. It didn’t take long for them to break up, and Dakota had been left questioning her worth.

As she sipped her wine, she felt the weight of the conversation they were about to have. Her friends had been there for her through everything, but this was different. She needed to talk about the thing that had been weighing on her the most—love.

“I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for it,” Dakota confessed, her voice low. “I’m so damn good at running businesses, but when it comes to love? I don’t even know where to start.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? You’ve got the world at your feet, Dak. I’m sure there’s someone out there who would *kill* to be with you.”

“But that’s the thing,” Dakota replied, shaking her head. “It’s always about what I can do for them. No one ever asks what I need. They see me as a prize, but I’m not just here for their amusement.”

Ali chimed in, her voice soft but understanding. “It’s hard, Dak. Men see your success, and they either want to ride your coattails or they feel like they’re not enough. But you have to remember—you’re not meant to settle.”

Dakota smiled faintly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to stop trying to fit myself into someone else’s life.”

---

**Chapter 9: Shyla – The Fire That Burns Within**

Shyla had always been the type of woman who lived life on her own terms. A fire captain in the Kansas City Missouri Fire Department, she was used to the physical and emotional toll her job took on her. She had been in high-stress situations—rescuing people from burning buildings, saving lives, and handling crises no one else could stomach. But at the end of the day, it was the fire that was the hardest to control—the fire in her own heart.

While her job was all-consuming, Shyla had always dreamed of finding someone to share her life with. She longed for a relationship that wasn’t centered around her work, one that could provide balance and stability. But every time she thought she had found someone, something always went wrong. It was either her career that came first or her potential partner’s jealousy that made things complicated.

Tonight, as she sat with her friends in Dakota’s apartment, Shyla couldn’t help but reflect on the last time she’d been out with a guy. His name was Eric, and he had been a fellow firefighter. They had met during a charity event, and the chemistry between them had been undeniable. For the first time in a long time, Shyla had felt like she could let her guard down.

But that had only lasted a few weeks.

Eric had started pulling away, making comments about how her job seemed to always come before him. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t just take time off for them to go on a weekend trip. The final straw came when Shyla had received a call late one night about a fire at a nearby apartment complex. She had to leave him hanging at dinner, but he couldn’t handle it.

The breakup was messy, with Eric blaming her for prioritizing work over their relationship. As much as it stung, Shyla knew that it was just the reality of her life. She had made peace with it, or so she thought.

Sitting with her wine glass in hand, Shyla sighed deeply. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get this whole relationship thing right.”

Dakota, always the perceptive one, tilted her head and gave Shyla a knowing look. “You’re too busy putting out other people’s fires to focus on your own, Shyla.”

“I’m not sure I have the time or energy for a relationship right now,” Shyla muttered, swirling her glass. “Every time I think I’ve found someone worth it, it always falls apart. Maybe I’m just meant to be alone.”

Izzy, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. “You’re not meant to be alone, Shyla. It’s just that the right person hasn’t come along yet. And maybe the right person is someone who understands how important your job is. Not everyone can handle the pressure that comes with being a fire captain. But the right person will.”

Shyla looked at Izzy, a hint of a smile forming on her face. “I hope you’re right.”

Billie, who had been scrolling through her phone, added her two cents. “Girl, listen. The man who can handle all of you—including your badass job—will be worth waiting for. Don’t settle for less just because someone can’t handle your fire. You’re a queen, and you deserve someone who can see that.”

Shyla’s heart softened as she looked around at her friends. They were right. She had always prided herself on being strong and independent, but she needed to stop thinking that strength meant doing everything alone. Perhaps it was time to let go of the past and trust that the right person would eventually show up.

---
Chapter 10: Izzy – The Nerd Who Needs More Than Codes

Izzy had always been t he quiet one in the group, the one who stayed behind the scenes, working tirelessly on systems and operations for Dakota’s businesses. As the head of operations and a skilled computer technician, she often spent hours in front of her computer, making sure everything ran smoothly. She wasn’t one for the spotlight, and she preferred the calm of her tech world to the chaotic world of dating. But deep down, she craved connection, just like the others.

Izzy’s love life, or lack thereof, was a topic she rarely discussed. She had dated in the past, but the relationships had always felt forced. She had a hard time finding someone who understood her passion for technology and coding, and the ones who did were often too intimidated by her intellect to get close. She had come to terms with the idea that maybe she wasn’t meant to find love—at least, not in the way she saw her friends with their significant others.

But recently, things had changed. She had met Leo at a tech conference, and for the first time in a long while, Izzy felt that spark. They had spent hours talking about artificial intelligence, coding languages, and the future of tech. It felt easy, like they were on the same wavelength.

Yet, even though Leo was kind and intelligent, Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Their conversations had become less frequent, and his texts felt more distant. Izzy hated the feeling of uncertainty—it was something she couldn’t fix with logic or a neat code.

One evening, after another text from Leo that left her wondering what had happened, Izzy found herself on the couch at Dakota’s apartment, surrounded by her friends. She took a deep breath, unsure if she was ready to open up.

“I don’t know what to do, guys,” Izzy said quietly, her voice almost hesitant. “Leo and I hit it off at first, but now… it feels like he’s pulling away. I don’t understand what changed.”

Shyla gave her a sympathetic look. “Men can be confusing sometimes. But it’s also possible that you’re overthinking it. Maybe he’s just busy.”

Billie leaned in, her tone playful but serious. “Or maybe he’s not into you anymore, and you just need to face it. Stop investing so much time in someone who isn’t putting in the effort.”

Izzy frowned, her fingers curling around her wine glass. “I don’t want to believe that. We had such a good connection. I don’t think I can just let it go without understanding what happened.”

Ali, who had been quiet, spoke up. “You deserve someone who values your intelligence, Izzy. If Leo isn’t doing that, then it’s time to move on. Don’t waste your energy on someone who isn’t giving you what you need.”

Izzy nodded, her mind racing. She had been so focused on finding someone who could understand her tech world, but she realized now that she needed someone who could truly see her, beyond the screens and the code.

As the night went on, Izzy resolved to have an honest conversation with Leo. It was time to stop guessing and start asking questions. She wasn’t afraid of rejection, but she knew she had to get closure—whether it was what she wanted to hear or not.

---
Chapter 11: Dakota – The CEO Who Wants More Than Just Busines

Dakota Blazz had everything anyone could dream of—a thriving empire, luxury cars, and a reputation that made her one of the most powerful women in the 420 business world. Yet, despite all her success, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

As the CEO of *First Ladies of Cannabis*, *Blazzup Boutique*, and *Wake and Bake Blazz’d Treats*, Dakota had built a world around herself. She was the boss, the woman who called the shots, the one everyone turned to for advice. But that also meant she had to keep her guard up. She had learned the hard way not to trust easily. After a string of failed relationships—mostly with men who couldn’t handle her power or who wanted her for her status—Dakota had decided that love wasn’t a priority.

But as she sat on the couch with her friends one evening, sipping wine and listening to their stories, she realized how much she longed for something more than just business. She wanted a connection, something real and intimate, but the thought of letting someone close terrified her.

"I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," Dakota confessed, her voice tinged with frustration. "I'm always so focused on my businesses, and then I end up alone. I don't know if I even have room in my life for a relationship anymore."

Billie looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Babe, you run three businesses. You *make* time for things that matter. If you want love, you’ll figure it out. It’s just scary because you’re not used to letting anyone in.”

Shyla nodded. “You’ve been so focused on your career that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be vulnerable. Love isn’t about control. It’s about letting go and trusting someone with your heart.”

Dakota took a deep breath. “But what if they break it? I’ve been hurt before, and it feels like every time I let someone in, they disappoint me.”

Ali, ever the realist, spoke up. “It’s scary, but you can’t let fear of failure stop you from trying. You’re a badass, Dakota. If anyone deserves love, it’s you.”

Dakota smiled, grateful for her friends' unwavering support. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to let someone in yet, but she knew one thing for certain: her friends were right. Love couldn’t be about perfection—it had to be about trust, vulnerability, and acceptance.

As the night wore on, Dakota allowed herself to entertain the possibility of opening her heart again. It wouldn’t be easy, and it might not be on her terms, but maybe that was exactly what she needed.

---

Chapter 12: Billie – The Hustler Who Wants Something Real

Billie had always been a force of nature. The highest-paid stripper in Kansas City, she had perfected the art of seduction, charm, and making men believe she was exactly what they needed—even when she wasn’t. She could walk into any club, command attention, and leave with cash, gifts, or whatever her heart desired. On the surface, it looked like she had it all—money, power, and the ability to get any man she wanted.

But deep down, Billie was tired. Tired of the games. Tired of the facades. She had worked hard to build her reputation, but what she truly longed for was something more than a transaction. Billie wanted real connection, something that went beyond the surface.

Her latest date had only confirmed this feeling.

He had seemed perfect on paper—Tyson, an affluent businessman in the tech industry. Tall, good-looking, and seemingly into her. He had taken her to a fancy rooftop bar in downtown KC, with the perfect view of the skyline. Everything felt right, or at least, it should have.

The conversation started well, but soon, Tyson’s focus drifted. He wasn’t asking her about her life; he was too busy talking about his own successes. All the while, Billie had to fight the urge to look at her phone, wondering if something better would come up—another client, another date, maybe someone who actually cared about who she was beyond the money she could make.

Billie’s thoughts were interrupted by the loud clinking of glasses on the table, and she forced a smile as Tyson continued to talk about his investments in new tech. She was used to this—men who only wanted to talk about themselves, who saw her as a trophy or a distraction. But with each word that escaped his lips, she felt herself pulling further and further away.

Eventually, they went back to his penthouse apartment. It was stunning—sleek, modern, with an incredible view of the city lights. But inside, Billie felt nothing. She had been with men who had more wealth, more power, but no one who could make her feel seen.

The night ended without fireworks, without any genuine connection, just another story to add to her long list of failed dates. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him goodbye.

The next day, she sat at Dakota’s apartment, sipping on wine with her friends, trying to shake off the lingering emptiness. The women had gathered for their usual catch-up, and the mood was a mix of curiosity and concern as Billie walked in, her posture slightly slumped, an unusual look for someone who always carried herself with confidence.

“You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Ali said, eyeing her closely.

Billie let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just… I’m so tired of it all, you know? The men, the dates, the constant pretending. I go out there, looking for something real, but all I find are guys who want to use me as a prop or a status symbol.”

Dakota, who had always been the one to push her friends toward success, paused, then leaned forward. “Billie, you know your worth. But sometimes, I think you let these guys define who you are. You’re so good at making them feel special, but when’s the last time someone made you feel like you matter?”

Billie took a deep breath and looked at her friends. “I don’t know anymore. I just… I want someone to see me, you know? Not just the body, not just the money I can bring in. I want someone to see past all of that and see me for who I really am. But it’s like, no one ever does.”

Shyla, who had been silent for a moment, spoke up gently. “I get it. We all have our walls up, but sometimes, the right person won’t care about your hustle. They’ll care about your heart.”

Izzy, who had been quiet up until now, added, “You’re more than your job, Billie. You’ve built yourself up to be this incredible woman, and it’s not just about the attention you get. You deserve someone who admires that strength and still sees the vulnerable side of you.”

Billie nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. She had spent so many years hiding behind her persona, crafting the perfect image of the confident, untouchable woman. But beneath that tough exterior, she wanted—needed—something real. She was tired of the fake compliments, the shallow flattery, and the endless parade of dates that led nowhere.

As she looked around at her friends, she realized that this conversation was different. They weren’t just offering advice; they were offering understanding. They knew what it felt like to hustle, to be on top of the world, and still feel lost in the void of superficial connections.

Dakota raised her glass. “You deserve better, Billie. Don’t settle for anything less than what you know you’re worth. And when you find someone who truly sees you, they’ll love you for exactly who you are—not for what you can give them.”

Billie smiled, a small but genuine smile, the kind that hadn’t appeared on her face in a long time. It wasn’t about the men anymore. It was about her—what she wanted, what she deserved, and what she was willing to fight for.

She took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter than she had in days. “Thanks, guys. I needed to hear that.”

As the night went on, the conversation shifted, and Billie found herself laughing more, feeling the weight of her loneliness lift just a little. She still didn’t have all the answers, but for the first time in a long time, she realized she didn’t need to have it all figured out. She was learning to trust the process, to trust herself, and to know that eventually, she would find someone who would see her—really see her—for who she truly was.

For now, though, it was enough to be surrounded by her sisters in smoke, the women who understood her better than anyone else. Together, they had built something unbreakable—a bond that no man, no date, and no amount of money could ever diminish.

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Chapter 13: Ali – The Stylist Who Couldn’t Style Her Own Heart

Ali was never the type to settle. Whether it was her work, her friendships, or the men she dated, she always looked for the best. That was why she had become the head stylist for *Blazzup Boutique* and had developed her own fashion line, *Rogue Threads*. She had the vision, the creativity, and the drive to make anything she touched stylish and innovative. But when it came to her own life, Ali couldn’t quite seem to put the pieces together in a way that made sense.

Her love life was a constant whirlwind of short-lived relationships, each more disastrous than the last. And it wasn't because the men weren’t great—some of them were, at first. The issue was always the same: none of them could handle the independent, ambitious woman that Ali was. They either felt threatened by her success or assumed they were too good for her. Even though Ali had everything going for her, she often found herself falling for men who were attracted to her success, but not for the right reasons.

It had been a few weeks since her last heartbreak. Antonio, a handsome, successful entrepreneur who had swept her off her feet, had proven once again that men who were used to being in control couldn’t handle a woman like her. Their relationship had fizzled out after she had landed a major deal with a luxury fashion brand, and he started resenting her for the long hours she spent working on the project.

She couldn’t quite remember when she had stopped seeing him, but she did remember the last conversation they had had. Antonio had said, “I don’t think we’re right for each other. You’re always working, always chasing your dreams. Where does that leave me?”

Ali had been angry at the time but knew he was right in his own way. She couldn’t keep balancing a successful career and an emotional connection that was draining her. She had tried to compromise, to make it work, but in the end, she knew that something had to give—and it wasn’t going to be her career.

Sitting at Dakota’s apartment later that evening, Ali looked at the group of women surrounding her. Each one of them had their own version of struggle, but at least they had found comfort in their connections with each other. Ali had always been so independent, but in this moment, she felt something shift inside of her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Ali said as she took a sip of wine, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Maybe it’s not about finding the *right* person. Maybe it’s about finding the *right* balance.”

Billie looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Ali took a deep breath. “I mean, I’ve been so focused on finding someone who gets me, someone who understands my ambition. But I think I’ve been looking in the wrong places. Maybe I need to stop chasing perfection and focus on being happy with who I am—alone or with someone.”

Shyla nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell myself. We don’t have to have everything figured out. It’s okay to just be.”

Ali smiled, feeling a sense of clarity wash over her. She didn’t need anyone to complete her. She was already whole.

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Chapter 14: Dakota – The CEO Who Finally Let Her Walls Down

For the first time in a long while, Dakota felt the weight of her success not as a burden but as a part of who she was. She had spent years building an empire, pushing herself to the limit, and always remaining in control. But lately, there had been a shift in her—one that wasn’t just about business.

As much as she loved running *First Ladies of Cannabis*, *Blazzup Boutique*, and *Wake and Bake Blazz'd Treats*, Dakota had come to realize that her professional success had come at the expense of something deeper—her personal life. She had built a fortress around herself, making sure no one could ever get too close. She had feared that if anyone got too close, they’d see the cracks in her armor.

But as she sat around with her friends, sipping wine, smoking a little 420, and discussing her dating woes, she began to understand that perhaps the walls she had built were what kept her from finding true connection.

“Maybe it’s time I stopped trying to be everything to everyone,” Dakota confessed one night, her voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I’ve spent so much time proving myself, but now… I don’t know. I want something real. Something where I don’t have to keep performing.”

Billie raised her glass. “Girl, you don’t have to perform for us. We see you. And you’re already enough.”

Dakota looked around the room at the women who had become her chosen family. In them, she saw the reflection of her own fears and desires. They were all so strong, so independent, yet each one of them had moments where they felt just as lost as she did. For the first time in years, Dakota allowed herself to feel something she had buried under layers of control: vulnerability.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to date again,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I feel like I’ve been hurt so many times, and I keep pushing people away before they can hurt me again.”

Shyla reached over, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Dak. You don’t have to rush anything. But you do have to let someone in. And that someone can’t always be yourself.”

Dakota’s eyes filled with unshed tears. She was tired. Tired of fighting battles that no one else could see. And perhaps, just perhaps, she was ready to let someone help her carry the weight.

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Chapter 15: The Women Who Rise Togethe

It was late when they finally sat down in the living room, a haze of 420 smoke lingering in the air, and the dim glow of the city’s lights illuminating the room. They had spent hours talking, laughing, and venting about the ups and downs of their lives. The conversations always ebbed and flowed, but tonight felt different. There was a quiet understanding between them, a sense that things were shifting.

Billie stretched out on the couch, her eyes half-closed. “You know, I’m kind of glad we don’t have our shit together sometimes.”

Izzy, who had been sitting quietly, looked up from her phone. “What do you mean?”

Billie smiled. “I mean, no one ever talks about the messy parts of our lives. Everyone sees the businesses, the glam, the success. But none of it’s real if you don’t have people to share it with.”

Ali nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. It’s not about getting everything right. It’s about learning from our mistakes and growing.”

Shyla smiled, leaning into the cushions. “And knowing when to let go of the things that aren’t serving us.”

Dakota felt something warm and powerful inside of her. This group of women had become more than just friends—they were her sisters, her support system, the people who kept her grounded when the world tried to pull her away from herself. They understood her in a way no one else could.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Dakota said, her voice steady. “But I do know that I’m not facing it alone.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, and for the first time in a long time, Dakota felt at peace. She wasn’t perfect. They weren’t perfect. But together, they were unstoppable.

As the night wore on, they continued to share stories, laugh, and reflect on their lives. And somewhere in that space, amidst the wine, the weed, and the late-night confessions, Dakota realized that love—true love—wasn’t something she had to chase. It was something she already had, right there in front of her.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

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Epilogue:

The women of Dakota’s circle had found more than success; they had found solace in each other. Each one had learned something about themselves in the process, and although their journeys weren’t complete, they had discovered that the greatest love they could ever experience was the love they gave each other.

They still had their ups and downs, their struggles with love and life, but together, they had learned that it wasn’t about having it all figured out—it was about rising together.

The future was uncertain, but whatever came next, they knew they had each other’s backs. And that, for now, was more than enough.

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