Page 2 of Labria

“Time to pull out.” I said. I needed to take a quick shower.

“Why? I like it here.”

I exhaled. “I have to go to work.”

“Fuck work!”

“You never say that when it’s your work.”

“You’re going to just use me for sex and leave me.” He kissed my neck.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“I’m not going to let you go.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me in place underneath him.

“You know I can’t just stroll into work when I feel like it.”

“I want you here with me.”

“Lord, don’t make me late.” I grabbed a patch of his hair with my fist and twisted it tight.

“Ouch!”

“Get up. I’m Black and you know I can’t be late.”

“Oh no, the race card.”

“The truth card.” I chanted and fisted his hair a bit harder.

“Ouch! Okay. Okay.”

I released Lord’s golden locks. He sighed heavily as he climbed off of me and tumbled over on his back to his side of the bed.

I had somewhere to be, and I really didn’t want to be on CP time. I rose from the bed and stretched out my body. I didn’t have a minute to spare, so I rushed into the bathroom.

I only had enough time to take a quick shower before I got dressed in my cream-colored suit. I was channeling Olivia Pope. I didn’t have time to do anything special to my hair. So I hurriedly pulled it back into a neat bun.

I gave Lord a passionate kiss goodbye before I bounced out of the front door to the waiting SUV. I never was a huge fan of driving. Now I had a full-time driver. I could relax in the backseat without the stress of traffic or impatient, unhinged drivers.

Sex before work felt like heaven on earth. I had that little boost of energy I needed to get through my workday.

Nicco Bregoli came through and expedited my foray into getting a valid law license in the state of Nevada. I had, but hated to admit it. Nicco really did have connections. He wasn’t just the mafia criminal I pegged him to be. Sure, he was a gangster. I’d seen it that part of him with my own two eyes. He was also a big shot here in Vegas. I didn’t have proof, but I believed he had contacts in local law enforcement and he might even have a judge or two in his pocket.

With a referral from a mafia Don, I was an associate at Stern, Foster, and Pellegrino without the lengthy interview process. I even had my own office. It was nothing grandiose, but it was an actual enclosed room with a window. It wasn’t in an ugly gray cubicle with a lone two-drawer file cabinet. I also had a small connecting private bathroom. I couldn’t complain about the accommodations. They were better than I had when I practiced law in Chicago.

The name partners at SFP were professional. The paralegals were smart and capable and after three months on the job; I hadn’t been overworked or treated unfairly because of my race or gender. That was rare in this field and it made my transition from underboss girlfriend to attorney go over smoothly.

I sort of owed Nicco Bregoli a favor. I didn’t want to admit that to anyone other than myself. He was still a pompous prick. Thanking him was never going to happen. He was the reason my man was a criminal.

Nicco was the reason I’d been shot at, and the reason Lord moved me to Sin City. Thinking about the fact my man was the next in line to be a mafia boss pissed me off from my silk pressed head to my pedicured toes. That spaghetti-eating bastard threw a monkey wrench in my entire life. If it were up to me could eat a bag of donkey dicks. Why Lord loved him enough to be his right-hand man was a mystery to me. They weren’t even raised together. If I really thought about it, I would blame Lord’s childhood trauma.

Lord had probably always longed for a traditional family. He was an only kid for the majority of his life. I couldn’t imagine a life as an only child. My sister was and is my best friend. She was all I had after our parents died. I probably wouldn’t have survived losing both parents at the same time if I didn’t have my big sister to lean on and grieve with.

My man was part of a notorious criminal family; a man that doesn’t have any criminal background is the underboss for the Bregoli Mafioso family. Even when I tried to ignore this fact, I couldn’t. It made me angry inside.

Lord was always out-of-town conducting business for this raggedy ass family. I wasn’t sold on any of them.

I arrived at work on time, as always. I was so happy I didn’t ruin my perfect record. I received an innocent compliment on my vanilla bean ice cream attire from the old Black security guard. He reminded me of my father. I really missed my parents, and I often wondered if they would’ve liked Lord. My sister was the only one I had left, and I hoped she would like him.

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