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A cafe where Ali now sat, waiting patiently for Victoria to arrive.

“Remember, she’s a horrible person,” Natasha instructed through the speaker.

“It is known.”

Over the past several weeks, they got to know each other over brunches never far from the family law firm.

“She will try to take control. Don’t let her.”

“Roger, roger!”

Ali chirped back, a robotic edge to her words. She and Wren binge watched Star Wars the day before after their shift and it was infecting her life.

“I wish I could have gotten out of court today. Spying on her from a few tables over would have been much more fun.”

“Just one case closer to getting out of that cubicle and into your own office,” Ali encouraged, aware of Natasha’s quest to climb the ladder of the family business.

Natasha groaned, and Ali couldn’t help but grin. “I’m happy to pay my dues, truly I am. But did they really have to put me next to Sticky Pete?”

“Why do they call him Sticky Pete?”

“They don’t. I do—in my head—mostly. Every time he hands me something, it’s covered in any number of sticky substances. Jelly. Syrup. Glue. And I wouldn’t mind, but he once handed me my purse and you’ll never guess.”

“Unidentified sticky substance?”

“Yes!”

“The horror!”

“I’ve never forgiven him. Was a Birkin 20 in Matte Alligator for fuck’s sake.”

“I have no idea what that means but I’m sorry he got the stickies on it.”

Natasha sighed. “I shouldn’t complain. He was really helpful when I first started. It was overwhelming in the beginning.”

“A lot to match up to?”

“Yeah.”

Silence lingered for a moment. They hadn’t spoken of it much, but Ali could tell half the reason Natasha tried so hard was to make her family—her mother—proud. But in the face of so much familial success, Ali feared Natasha might never feel she measured up.

“I should go. But I’ll see you for brunch next week? I’ll be swamped the rest of the day but I’ll check the group for your report tonight.”

“Sounds good. Later, alligator!”

Natasha hesitated for a moment. “Hold on, I think I know this one. Something with crocodiles?”

There were moments Ali noticed members of the Pryce family lived in a different world than most people. They faced challenges of course. Micro-aggressions from people who didn’t recognize them. Pandering from people who did. Trapped in a strange limbo where they were too black to fit in with white society yet too “white” to fit in with black society. Thanks to Sasha’s grandparents, half of them seemed to suffer from a superiority complex that could rival the most entitled white man on the planet. Natasha tried to be in touch with reality, but it was difficult to achieve. Ali would never judge her for it, but she took pleasure in educating Natasha on all the things she missed while busy graduating high school, then college, and law school years ahead of schedule.

“Yep. It rhymes,” Ali hinted.

“Oh! After a while, crocodile.”

Laughter echoed both ways down the line before they hung up. Ali fixed her eyes on the door, preparing to burn Victoria’s facial expressions into her mind and sketch them for the group.

She arrived, hair done to perfection, in a burgundy dress hugging every curve and revealing a little too much cleavage for a casual mid-afternoon catch up. Ali couldn’t blame her for trying to use it to her advantage. All things considered, her looks were her only appeal. It couldn’t be more different from the look Ali had thrown together that morning on a whim.

Soft black overalls (miraculously not paint smudged) over a white long sleeved crop. One side held up by a single strap, the other hung low, revealing a stretch of abdomen and the fern leaf tattoo over her love handle. Scuffed mustard converses matched the mustard in her printed silk scarf holding her long waves back. The crown jewel of her look was a slash of yellow drawn in a sharp little lightning bolt arched from the corner of each eye. A second smaller stroke mirrored beneath the lower lash line. It was graphic and too crisp to be there by mistake… Really, she and Victoria couldn’t be more different.