First Days in Arbitration
Niya woke up. It was silent. She was staring at the ceiling—wide eyed with racing thoughts. It was still dark out. The ceremony yesterday was exhausting. Everything was complete, now waiting to hear back from her assigned liaison, Maya.
She grabbed the phone and opened her email. Nothing.
She verbalized her thoughts—“What exactly happens? Am I supposed to just sit and wait for them to tell me things? Are they going to seize my bank account? Make me quit my job?
Maya had gone through this with Niya throughout the process over the past six months, but there was still a dread—that by signing your life over, that they could do anything. It was a rational fear, even if there was no real reason to believe it, but there was still anxiety that wouldn’t go away until she heard from Maya … It was around 12:30 PM that Niya got the call from Maya.
“Hello? Is this Maya? Could you hold on? I can’t talk right here, let me get somewhere, give me just a minute.”
“No problem Niya, I’ll wait.”
Niya was able to find a small conference room where she knew nobody else could hear what was happening.
“Hey Maya, I found a place. I’ve been so nervous about this call, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Niya, I’m so sorry about the surprise. I completely hear you on the anxiety of it all. I went through this myself a few years ago and I didn’t sleep at all the night after my ceremony. It was so intense. The transition period is a bit unusual since the judges haven’t entered the orders yet. Once that’s through, things will be seamless.”
“Do you have anything for me then? What’s going to happen?”
“That’s part of why I wanted to call Niya. I’d like to go over the timeline with you if you have a minute to discuss.”
“Absolutely, I have time now.”
“Great. It normally takes three to seven business days until we get the final signed orders. The Southern District Court of Texas is efficient, and I expect to receive the signed order today. Your case has been assigned to a Texas State judge in the 113th District Court—they take a lot longer. It could be as short as tomorrow, but I expect it to be at some point in the next week. It’s a formality really, but the state courts are still getting their automated systems going. Nothing to be concerned about, it’s just waiting for it to go through.”
Maya paused to give Niya a chance to talk.
“You said that was part of why you wanted to call. Was else did you want to tell me?”
Maya calmly started: “Niya, you are not going back to your apartment. We’re moving you to an arbiter run apartment on Westheimer. It’s about 15 minutes west of where you’ve been living, in River Oaks.
Dread seized Niya as this was not remotely a possibility she had considered.
“What do you mean I’m not going back to my apartment? I have all my things there. What are you doing with my stuff?”
“Niya, your new apartment is already waiting for you. I think you’ll really like the new layout. The place is one of our newer properties, specifically for working professional black men & women in their 30s and 40s. The building was designed from the ground up—it’s only for people like you, all in arbitration. Shock is common for new residents when they arrive because they’ve never thought a building could be so customized for their needs.”
“I’ll let you get back to work then. Just leave at your normal time. I’ll text you the address, just meet me there. I’ll be waiting in the lobby, just text me when you pull up.” … That evening after work, Niya drove to the new apartment building. She’s always wanted a nicer place, the midtown apartment was…sterile. After getting off the phone with Maya she immediately pulled up a street view of the address—it was a tower. Out front there was a wide plaza, a huge awning that could fully cover a dozen cars, and landscaping. Not just landscaping, more life a whole jungle. This wasn’t those intermittent perfectly manicured little bushes in a sea of rock you see around most apartments and office parks. This was inspiring. Despite living in the area, this was beyond what she’d seen at Memorial Park or the Museum District. This was designed around her.
She pulled up to the front entry and parked under the large awning[10.1]. A man walked up and asked to take her keys. Then Maya walked over to join them.
“Hey Niya! Welcome home! This is a man from the concierge desk, he’s going to valet park your car. You can come back to the desk in the morning when you leave to get your car. And here’s a set of keys for you. You can also use the app to access everything—most of the residents stop bothering with keys, but it’s up to you. For now, when you arrive here you can just drive up and someone at the concierge desk will park your car.”
“You mean, I get valet parking every day?”
“Ha, yes. For now. Eventually we’re going to get you another car, but this is what we do as you’re starting your transition.”
They walked through the lobby towards the elevator bank. She could see a salon just beyond, maybe 5 or 10 women in spa chairs. Maya pressed 17.
She would be living on the 17th floor. In River Oaks. With valet parking.
“Alright Niya, this is your floor. I’d like to explain first how things work here. All of the units have an entrance for you, as well as a service corridor. That service side is where you’ll have your daily clothing, food, and packages delivered. These connect through access points within your unit. You’ll never see anyone and everything will be delivered, touch free. Let me show you inside.”
The door unlocked without any key. Completely automated.
Immediately her eyes widened. This was beyond what she thought possible. There was a gorgeous Boucle sofa between solid walnut tables surrounded by a pair of clay velvet chairs. These perfectly complemented her skin tone.
…need more description, weird transition here
The bed was climate-controlled, keeping both sides at customized temperatures.
“We got you silk sheet sheets, thought you might need these. Much better than the cotton stuff you’ve been using.”
Maya continued, “There’s a circadian lighting system built into the unit. It can be a bit overwhelming with the amount of lights in the unit and customization options, so we’ve gone ahead and setup a standard profile we think would fit you perfectly. If you ever want to adjust it, you can either use the app or use the unit’s access panel. Feel free to talk to it naturally, or you can text the unit, whatever works best for you. If you need anything, press the contact button in the app or on the wall, and it will connect to a live person immediately. I’ll always try to answer. We’re here for you, so please use the button liberally. We encourage it.
She couldn’t understand what was happening.
“Niya, I’d love to show you something. I think you’ll really like this part.”
They walked into a room that Niya did not recognize from any home she’d seen.
Niya was in awe—“What is this room? Is it a bathroom?”
“Women who move in here are always thrown off. It’s a wet room. There’s a dedicated vanity with a professional-grade steamer. I’ve already scheduled routine loctician appointments for you. She’ll be here every two weeks. They use this room to wash, detox, and retwist your locs. If you’re comfortable with someone else, we can schedule them, but we wanted to have something setup to get you started. Anyone you schedule, we can handle travel arrangements from them. It shouldn’t be a problem to get your usual loctician to head over, we already have a number of women who commute to the building rather than use the woman we have assigned to the property.
This seemed to be just the beginning of this bathroom or whatever this was. Maya then walked her to another vanity covered in bottles with shelves and lighting and seating.
“Maya this is another major focus in your unit. We provide you with custom-compounded skincare. We’ve already analyzed your melanin needs and you’re being provided with high-potency Vitamin C and sunscreens—no white cast[11.1]. We’ve also scheduled routine salon appointments at the spa. I think you saw that downstairs, you can take a look later after I leave. These appointments are a baseline—not a luxury. You’re free to schedule appointments somewhere else if you’d like, but we think you’ll enjoy this.
They moved towards the kitchen. Except this didn’t look like any kitchen Niya had ever seen. There was no large refrigerator, minimal cabinet space, and no large cooktop or oven. What was new were two large doors that led into the service corridor.
“We know that you love your mother’s cooking, but you explained to us how it leaves you feeling heavy. However, a lot of the spice palette and flavors you love—those will still be a part of your curated nutrition plan. You’ll be delivered food daily, in what we call Elevated Heritage. Your meals are prepared and delivered once in the morning when you eat breakfast, and another when you arrive home.”
“The food delivery is over here. This isn’t so much a refrigerator as it is a seamless way to get your food from the service corridor. Everything comes through these doors and there are dividers to keep hot, cold, and room temperature foods separate. When you’re done, just place the dishes and linens back into the cabinet, and they’ll be taken care of. Nothing sits in here for more than a few minutes. People are used to food delivery—things getting soggy, losing their temperature, texture. This is a big upgrade from what you’ve been used to.”
Niya investigated the cabinet. There was dinner waiting—braised short ribs served with truffled cauliflower puree and charred broccolini.
Niya interrupted—“When did this arrive?”
“We always have meal set for new residents. We base your nutrition on what we learned from you during your intake process—meals will just arrive like you see this one now. There will be lot of variety by default. Anything can be customized and if you’re not home, we’ll know where to send you food. If you’re out with friends or working late, you’ll get a notification through the app asking if you’d like food delivered to your GPS location. But for now, your food will be here when you’re here.”
Niya slid the tray out from the cabinet. The plating was gorgeous. This looked like something you might get as room service at a luxury hotel. The Westin maybe. Something she’s seen on Instagram, but never experienced. There was a perfectly folded linen napkin—silverware tucked in to the fold across the middle. Small plates of appetizers, condiments, fruits, and desserts surrounded the plate containing the main course.
“These apartments don’t really need refrigerators, but we do have a beverage cabinet over here.”
Niya opened the door—chilled chamomile tea, alkaline water, fresh pre-cut mango, papaya, and berries.
“What is all of this? Is this a welcome home gift or something?”
“No Niya, this is your life now. This is every day. All of this will always be here. This is the default—not a welcoming gift.”
Finally, Niya was curious about clothing.
Maya pulled her attention, “The final core part of this apartment is your wardrobe. You open this door and slide this out—it’s on rollers.”
This cabinet also led out to the service corridor and was connected to her bedroom, so she could have guests over and transfer her clothing without anyone noticing.
“Your clothing will be hanging on this rack, with other accessories, jewelry, and shoes coming on the shelves on the back side, just pull it fully out of the wall. Please take everything they have here now, and let’s take it to your closet.”
“Wait Maya, what is this?”
“That box of jewelry is to get you started. Most of what you had isn’t really suited for you. So we decided to give you a starter set.
In the box was a Spinelli Kilcollin Pave Diamond Linked Ring, a pair of Nikos Koulis 18k yellow and white gold diamond earrings, an Irene Neuwirth 18K rose gold flower necklace, and a Mateo 14kt lapis donut diamond bracelet.
Niya froze, “Why did you give me this?”
“That’s part of your wardrobe. These are more statement pieces, but since you’ve been so used to cheap tennis bracelets, solitaire pendants, and hoop earrings, we thought you needed something a little better. Take that box as well and let’s take this to your closet.”
Niya removed the hanging garments and jewelry box. Maya brought the shoes and what appeared to be other clothes folded and wrapped with a handle sinching the bundle.
There was a small closet and dresser in a room adjacent to the wet room and bathroom. Another dedicated room—all of them connected to a central corridor that could be accessed from two directions. The toilet was in its own room. The closet was accessible from outside of the bedroom.
“The clothing we’re providing is a step up from what you may be used to.”
They had sent her an all cream set to wear to work tomorrow. The fabrics are all silk, cashmere, and linen.
“None of this will require your ironing or care. We’re already laser tailored your measurements, so the clothing that arrives will be perfectly fitted to you.”
Maya smirked because she knew this next part was something women loved: “You will be getting new clothing deliveries daily. It’s up to you to keep what you want and send things back when you want—just place any unwanted or dirty clothing back into the cabinet. New clothing will always arrive. Everything will be clean, ready to wear, and perfectly tailored for you. The clothing is handled with gloves, and sanitary handling of clothing is mandatory in our garment system. If there’s any one thing you want to keep, feel free to hang on to it! Or just let us know, and we’ll wash it and send it back.”
Anticipating questions, Maya continued.
“All of this will be handled without you needing to be involved. New clothes will arrive. Everything will fit you perfectly. If your body changes shape, we will know, and you’ll continue to receive clothing that fits you. It will take some getting used to. You don’t need to shop anymore—everything you need will come through this closet. Of course you can request anything you’d like—send us a link, let us know, and it will be here. We’ll be sending you a capsule wardrobe for you to mix and match, but there’s no limit to this. Some women choose to use the capsule clothing we send, others love to constantly have new outfits. It’s really up to you.
Maya then walked with Niya, preparing to exit.
“I guess that’s about it for now. Your things from your apartment were boxed up today and will be delivered here and unpacked tomorrow. Most of your furniture, kitchen items, and anything else that is a duplicate of what you already have here—that’s not being moved. We are bringing all of your personal items. I’ve sent you a link to a video of these women packing up your things today. You can see the codes on the boxes and verify against the sealed boxes that arrive tomorrow. There will be a video of the unboxing as well, so you can confirm that all of your items were brought in correctly. Tomorrow these same women will unpack everything and have it all setup while you’re at work.”
“How did you do this? I mean, how is this possible? I heard good things about what these new apartments are like, but I’m a bit floored.”
“This is exactly why you signed up for arbitration—you don’t have to handle these things. Have a good night, and we’ll be in touch once the court orders are signed. This is just a first step for you Niya.”
Maya walked out and closed the door behind her. Niya walked to the kitchen, opened the drink cabinet and removed the cold chamomile tea and bowl of sliced mango. On the walnut table by her sofa—someone had brought the speaker from her apartment. She powered it up, grabbed her phone, and started her playlist—Kirk Franklin, Revolution.