by Isis Brown
“Hey, Penny. Thanks for this, you didn’t have to I could have come by.”
“Shh, here.” Penny patted Layla on the shoulder as she handed her a cup of coffee.
Layla took a sip of the coffee and reveled in the taste. “I take it back. This is perfect, and you are a Goddess.”
Penny smiled at Layla. They ate and sipped coffee together, a feeling of normalcy starting to settle around them. When they were done, Layla knew it was time to go. Standing up she said, “I should head back.”
“I’ll clean up,” Penny said, grabbing their plates and taking them into the kitchen, giving Isabel and Layla some privacy.
Isabel stood up and closed the distance between them.
“I don’t really have the words to thank you for coming this weekend. It means a lot.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Isabel. I cared about Poppa.”
“Yeah, me too.” Isabel took a deep breath, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Can I call you again? I miss you, Layla. I know we can’t go back, but… I just miss your friendship.”
Layla looked at the ground, not able to sustain eye contact. “Just?”
Isabel fumbled over the words. “No, I didn’t mean--”
Layla looked back up and reached out to grab Isabel’s hand. “Yes, you can call. I would like that. Now, I should really head back.”
She pulled Isabel into a long hug. They clung to each other, leaving so much unsaid. Without another word, she turned and went to say goodbye to Penny, picked up her bag, and walked towards the door. Ramsey met her there, and after giving him some love, she turned back, nodding at Isabel and Penny as she let herself out.
Chapter Thirty
Layla was anxiously waiting for Sasha to get to her place. She couldn’t help feeling unsettled after the way they parted and everything that went down with Isabel. After two quick knocks on the door, Sasha let herself in.
“Hey. I brought Bahn Mis, and after the day I have had, I need a drink.” She stopped short after seeing Layla’s face. “That look on your face tells me you need one too. You pouring, or am I?”
“I’ve got it. Wine or something stronger?”
“Something stronger.”
“Clear or dark?”
“Dark.”
“Oh God, IT IS BAD.”
They reconvened in the living room on the couch, Layla setting their drinks on the coffee table and folding one of her legs under her on the couch, she faced Sasha and started unwrapping her Bahn Mi.
“So who is up first, you or me?” Layla asked.
Sasha contemplated while chewing, washing it down with a sip of Bourbon. “Well, we had oral arguments with the 9th circuit, and honestly, I have no fucking idea what’s going to happen. We might lose this one.”
Layla took a quick sip of her drink.
“Well, I just spent the weekend with my ex-girlfriend because her grandfather, aka her best friend and person she admires most in the world died, and she looked at me with Bambi eyes asking me to stay at her place the night of the funeral and I woke up with my hand on her boob. UNDER HER SHIRT. So.”
Sasha choked on her bite of her sandwich. “You win.”
Layla took a long sip of Bourbon, then exhaled loudly. “You sure you’re okay to talk about this?”
“Yes. I thought about this while you were gone and you know, at the end of the day, we are always going to be friends, right? The rest is…” she swirled the dark liquid in her glass before taking another sip.
“Okay, that’s not cryptic at all.”
Sasha laughed. “Shut up and eat your sandwich, then tell me about your trip.”
After they caught up and commiserated, Sasha opted to go home since they both had a long day. Layla took a long shower, trying to clear her head before bed. Once she settled in, she picked up her phone to see what time she had to be in the office tomorrow, hoping she would get to sleep in a little after drinking too much bourbon.
She had a text from Isabel. It was a photo of Ramsey laying by the door.
He misses you already.
Layla smiled. She tried to temper the swell of joy she got at getting something as simple as a text from Isabel, but there was no use denying it.
I miss him too! I should have got him in the break-up.
Woooow.
Too soon?
More like too late on the child support. You owe me like…$10,000.
US or Canadian?
Euros. I’ve got Cannes coming up.
Oh my God. You do well at a few festivals and all of a sudden you’re the Queen of England.
How do you know I did well? Did you google me?
I mean, my best friend is marrying one of your best friends.
Oh yeah. I’ll show myself out.
Also, I might have. A time or two.
Aha! Google news or google image?
I plead the fifth.
That doesn’t work across country lines.
You’ll have to extradite me to get me to talk!
So soon?
I’ll have the Euros ready. Give Ramsey my love.
Always.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sasha was interrupted from pacing her office with a knock on her door. It was after hours, so there were only a few people there milling about since most had gone home for the day. Peeking from behind the opening door was Layla.
“Hey,” Sasha said as she stopped her pacing. “What are you doing here?”
Layla closed the door behind her and leaned against it. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“What? No, I haven’t,” Sasha responded a little too quickly.
Layla raised an eyebrow and waited.
“I’ve been busy?” Sasha tried.
“We are always busy.”
Sasha sighed and leaned back against her desk. “I guess I haven’t known how to be around you, so it was easier to just, take a break.”
Layla walked to the chair right by where Sasha was leaning back against her desk and casually plopped down in it. “Huh. And how is that working out for you?”
Sasha exhaled a curse. She was wound tight.
“What are you working on?” Layla asked, reaching a tentative hand to the inside of Sasha’s thigh just above her knee. She started stroking the skin there slowly, looking up at Sasha with a neutral expression.
Sasha squirmed. “Just trying to prepare for oral arguments. I feel like I’m missing something, so I keep going over my notes.”
“I see,” Layla said, moving her hand farther up, with less room to maneuver because of how tight Sasha’s skirt was. “Walk me through it.”
“Uhhh.” Sasha looked up at the ceiling before exhaling, as she put more of her weight on the edge of the desk and widened her stance as far as her skirt would allow. Clearing her throat, she began going through the opening argument, laying out where she wanted to go. She didn’t know how far Layla was willing to go, but Sasha was determined to win this game of chicken. Just to show she could. To prove to herself that she hadn’t given up too much space in her life and heart to Layla.
Layla’s fingertips reached the apex between Sasha’s legs, as she slowly ran them back and forth over her underwear, teasing her with just a little bit of pressure, slowly increasing it as Sasha kept reading her notes aloud. Sasha could feel her body temperature spike as the pleasure started coursing through her body. She could feel her resolve fading.
Sasha tried hard to focus on her notes instead of the teasing happening between her legs, which was getting increasingly more difficult with each passing stroke of Layla’s fingertips. Flipping to her second page, she took a deep breath.
“I don’t think I can concentrate with you doing that,” she said to Layla her face flushed.
“Yes, you can. In fact, if you stop or slow down, so will I.” Layla stilled her hand from moving but kept the pressure there.
Sasha bit her lip. She had such a hard time resisting Layla, especially when she was exuding confidence a
nd taking control like she currently was. Despite wanting to put some distance between them, she had to admit to herself that she was feeling sexually frustrated, not wanting to go outside of their arrangement until they’d at least had a conversation about it. Knowing she wanted Layla to keep going, she took a labored breath and continued. A woman of her word, Layla rewarded Sasha with a long stroke over her underwear, before removing her hand to hike Sasha’s skirt up higher. Layla then pulled Sasha’s underwear down so she could step out of them. Layla resumed stroking Sasha slowly, teasing at her opening with her fingertips.
Sasha ran her hand over her face, stifling a moan before going over the previously decided cases she planned on using to show precedent. Her voice hitched as Layla swirled her fingertips around her most sensitive spot so agonizingly slow, Sasha thought she might scream out of frustration alone.
Layla leaned back in the chair, never slowing or stilling the movement of her hand as she made eye contact with Sasha.
“As for your closing argument?”
Sasha’s legs were beginning to shake from the strain of holding herself up and open for Layla, and her mind was spinning from the sensory overload and extreme concentration it was taking to get through her notes.
Mid-way through her final page, Layla slid two fingers into Sasha filling her so unexpectedly a moan escaped through her lips as she dropped her notes and gripped the edge of the desk.
“Fuck,” She exhaled as she looked down to Layla, who was sporting a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait anymore.”
“Don’t stop,” Sasha begged, as she lifted one foot to the corner of the chair, giving Layla more room. Layla stood up quickly and used her free hand to pull Sasha’s skirt up over her hips so she could move unencumbered. She then popped open a couple buttons of Sasha’s shirt, sliding her hand in, kneading and pinching at the nipple through the thin layer of fabric that covered it.
Sasha worried she was going to scream. Not used to having to control how loud she was, she found it extremely erotic that she had to stay silent, and the fact that someone could walk in on them at any moment both terrified and thrilled her. Sasha buried her face in Layla’s neck, biting down on her shoulder to stifle a moan as she felt herself on the edge of an orgasm she knew was going to overtake her any moment.
Taking Sasha’s earlobe in between her teeth, Layla flicked it with her tongue. “Don’t make a sound,” she demanded as she pressed her thumb firmly onto Sasha, feeling the thick band twitch beneath her touch.
Sasha’s orgasm ripped through her, as she squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Layla for dear life, her fingers digging into Layla’s back, her legs shaking. Pleasure coursed through her body for what felt like ages, with Layla gently easing Sasha down as the aftershocks rippled through her body. When Sasha could take no more, she lowered her foot from the corner of the chair and grabbed Layla’s wrist, easing it from between her legs.
Layla lowered Sasha’s skirt, and buttoned her shirt, picked up the notes off the floor and set them on the desk before grabbing Sasha’s panties off the floor. Layla started walking towards the door, cool as a cucumber.
“Uh, excuse me. Can I get those back?”
Layla turned around as she reached the door, slipping the panties into her pocket. “You can get them back tomorrow when you come over for dinner to hang with Marco and me.”
Without waiting for a response, Layla let herself out of Sasha’s office, closing the door behind her.
Sasha ran her fingers down her face. “Well, alright then.”
***
The doorbell rang as Layla was stirring the pasta sauce. “Marco honey, can you get it? It’s gotta be Sash.”
“On it,” Marco confirmed, as he set out the cutlery by the dishes.
“Hello gorgeous,” Marco said, popping a kiss on Sasha’s cheek as she walked through the door.
“Hey sweetheart,” She replied, returning the gesture. “I brought wine.”
“Woman after my own heart,” Marco said.
“Hey Sash,” Layla said, turning to greet her while she kept stirring.
“Hey you,” Sasha said, popping a quick kiss on Layla’s cheek. “Can I help with anything?”
“Get that bottle of wine open? I’ll dish us all up and we can eat on the couch. There’s a new stand up I was hoping we could watch.”
They were all settled in with their bowls of pasta and glass of wine, as they started watching the show.
Layla’s phone buzzed mid-way through the routine, and she picked it up to see a text from Isabel. Smiling, she unlocked her phone to check it. The message had a selfie of Isabel posing with a kart vendor holding a falafel wrap. The text said Falafel in Paris. Not as good as Mariam’s but Rami was very nice.
Layla considered how to respond for a moment, before throwing caution to the wind.
Looks delicious.
Me, or the falafel?
Rami, obviously. I could just eat him up.
That’s it. I’m challenging Rami to a duel.
Before or after you finish your falafel wrap?
After, obviously. I would hate for it to go to waste.
Mariam would be proud.
And you?
LebaNinja is pleased.
Mission accomplished.
Marco cleared his throat and glared at Layla, so she put her phone down and snuggled back down into the couch to continue watching the show.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Midday on a Saturday, Layla and Sasha were both working on their laptops with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Layla’s phone rang, and upon seeing Marco, picked up quickly.
“Hey babe, what’s up?”
“Hey, I’m in the neighborhood, you home?”
“Yeah, Sash and I are just hanging out working. Come on over.”
“Ok, see you in a few.”
Marco let himself into the condo and greeted each of them with a quick kiss on the cheek. He took a seat on the chair to the side of the couch and pointed at the two of them.
“You two are like the same person. You realize that, right?”
Sasha scrunched her face. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
Layla feigned a deep pain. “Wow, what are you trying to say?” She asked Sasha.
“That if we are the same person, I am masturbating way too much,” Sasha replied, laughing.
“Oh, God. I didn’t need to hear that,” Marco said, covering his ears with his hands as he shook his head “Although I did start us down this path. I only have myself to blame.”
“Mhm,” They both said in unison, before laughing.
“You may have a point,” Layla admitted. “So what’s up?”
“Not much,” Marco responded. “Elliott wants to throw an engagement party in Vancouver next month so our families can meet each other before the wedding. I’m hoping you can be there; it’s on the twelfth.”
“Of course. Let me pull up my calendar so I can see if I need to move anything around,” Layla said, checking her work calendar on the laptop she already had open. “Nope, good to go,” She said, as she added the event to her calendar.
“What about you Sasha, can you come too?” Marco asked.
Sasha appeared to be caught off guard. “Oh, uh, let me look. Sorry, I didn’t expect that.”
“Hey, we are close, right?” Marco asked sincerely.
“Of course we are,” Sasha said, “I just don’t have a lot of family so…” she let her sentence trail off. Marco stood up off the chair he was on and sat down next to Sasha, wrapping an arm around her and bringing her close.
“Neither do I. So, what do you say? Chosen family?”
Sasha’s eyes teared up as she leaned into the contact. “That sounds great,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. Once Marco released her, she pulled up her calendar.
“Shit. I’m sorry Marco, I would love to be there but I’ll be traveling to DC for that whole week.”
“No problem, but your
ass isn’t getting out of the wedding. Deal?”
Sasha smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good,” Marco said as he propped his feet on the table. “Now, as fun as this whole thing seems, working on a Saturday I need you two to wrap it up. They just dropped the latest season of Drag Race on Hulu, and I feel a binge-watching session coming on.”
***
Hours later, as Layla walked Marco to the door to say goodbye, he hugged her and held her before releasing her completely.
“Hey, just a heads up, Isabel is going to be at this engagement party.”
Layla thought for a moment. “Of course, that makes sense.”
“All good?” Marco hesitantly asked.
“All good. We have been talking, you know. More anyway. It’s fine.”
“Wow. Okay, that’s a new development.” He peeked behind Layla to where Sasha sat on the couch. “We can talk about that later.”
Layla shrugged. “Sure, but she knows. She’s fine with it.”
Marco scrunched his face. “Ooookay. Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. I love you, goodnight.”
“Love you. Bye.”
Layla locked the door and went to lay down on the couch, settling her head in Sasha’s lap.
Sasha started absentmindedly running her fingers through Layla’s hair. “Are you up for company tonight or should I head home?”
Layla wrapped her arm around Sasha’s waist. “Stay.”
“So, the engagement party,” Sasha said.
“Mhm. What about it?” Layla asked.
“Isabel will probably be there.”
Layla sat up, figuring this conversation just took a turn for the serious.
“Yes.”
Sasha fidgeted.
“Hey, Sash, talk to me.”
“Well, you told me you two have been talking, and I appreciate your honesty. It feels like this thing between us is … I don’t know, it’s good. It’s comfortable. A lot more comfortable than I ever thought I could get. I can also see that things with you and Isabel seem to be…getting back on track.” Sasha wiped an errant tear off her cheek.
Layla reached out and grabbed Sasha’s hand, but continued to give her space to speak.
“I know that you and I, this thing we are doing is temporary, and it feels like we are getting near the end. I’m okay with that, even if it might not seem like it right now because I’m emotional, but that’s just because I truly care about you, Layla. These months with you have reminded me of a lot of things I’ve tried to forget about my past and what I used to want for my future. They’ve shown me a lot of the ways I’ve completely closed myself off, and I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person. I will always be so incredibly grateful for that.” Sasha exhaled a shaky breath. “I want you to know that I support you in doing whatever it is that is going to make you happy, and something tells me that thing is Isabel.”
