the count of macchiato

-– open starter // @mysticstarter​

Someone was sitting on his chest–or that was what it felt like, as he sat there nestled at the end of that long counter. How he had gotten there, Ian couldn’t truly remember, the fog that lingered within his head had yet to lift. That weight leaving only a sense of confusion, he had grown accustomed too in a way. As much as a person could, in the span of a morning. Wetting his lips he sat there with his head rested against his arm, mouth dry—eyes would shut against the spin. That feeling of nausea. It was not a good day, or so his mother would have told him. He could just imagine the worry that would have been seen plainly within her eyes. That same look would have haunted them since they’d left that doctor’s office. Since they’d gotten the news.

Which is perhaps why he hadn’t called her—yet. 

It wasn’t unexpected, just sooner than they had thought. And in truth, Ian wasn’t surprised. No all he could manage to be was exhausted. Too tired to truly think, of anything beyond that cup of tea sat snuggly within his hand and the bustling place that stood up around him. Distractions he would seek from the weight of his chest and the spinning of his stomach. He listened to Rosie’s and its bustling. Those comings and goings, in time with themselves. Almost as if to a measurable sequence, one that the boy found himself attempting to count.

One, two, three. One, two, three—or so he tried. Until something would coming and intervene. The sound of another beat. Something different. Just barely, his eyes opened to see a pair of shoes against the floor next to him. A long pause—that customary silence, finally broken as he would shift. Straighten. Had they said something, he wondered, but said nothing. Simply sitting there with his brow creased.

Layla was having an intense craving for some blueberry pancakes this morning, but when she realizes she was due for a grocery shopping trip and didn’t have the ingredients to make her own, she went for the next best thing and headed over to Rosie’s. She was going to help herself to a seat by the counter, until she noticed what looked like Ian slouched over the counter. She slowly approached him. “Hey Ian... you okay?” she asked, concerned. Maybe he was hungover? She hoped she wasn’t intruding. “Sorry if I’m bothering, you seemed... off.”

                              “No,” Nora began slowly, “I don’t really have anything to celebrate, either. But I wanted to talk. Without an audience, this time.” The audience Nora was namely referring to was Nathan. Layla loved her nephew, and in the interest of not making him uncomfortable, she’d often kept things civil, when Nora was sure there was plenty she wanted to say. “You know that I am not good at this, but I am willing to try. Because I know that you were hurt by the way that things… I know that I hurt you. I hurt you, and we, well I, need to address that.” Because I miss you. Nora could only be so candid, before she felt like she was verging on rambling. But this moderate amount of discomfort paled in comparison to what was presently at stake.

Layla looked over at her sister, confused on what it was she wanted to talk about. Until she explained, and Layla tensed up. Oh God, first Bly Manor and now this? She was already tired. Layla had grown so accustomed to holding back her feels that her immediate reaction was to just skip this and not have to deal with it outright. Two Brodericks in the same room talking about feelings could unravel the whole universe. She looked away to focus on the two glasses of wine she was pouring. She was surprised, honestly, that Nora even noticed that she had hurt her. Layla had figured... well, that she was focused on other things. She always seemed to be focused on other things. “Okay...” Well this was fun, where were they even supposed to start with this? Layla could only surmise a large sip of wine. She handed Nora a glass before she did so. “What do you want me to say, exactly? That I’m tired of living in your shadow?” She hadn’t meant for it to come off that blunt. “That’s not... really your fault.” It technically wasn’t. Her parents had shoved her there. She let out a small sigh. “We don’t have have to talk about it,” she said quietly.

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Juli’s lip. If it weren’t for Layla, the past few months would have been even more unbearable. She couldn’t help but feel so loved and cared for. “You are the queen of production. I don’t think I would have pulled any of this off if it weren’t for you. But also, you look damn amazing yourself!” She hyped Layla in return. “I’d totally love that, but would people be alright with an Asian Cher?” Juli laughed at Layla’s comments of Classic Hollywood. “With your genes and if we do it right, we can look young forever.”

Juli’s smile faded slowly into a forced smile at the mention of the current drama in her life. No matter how she looks at the situation, she couldn’t blame Lip for the strain in their relationship. It was just unfortunate timing that Juli started to realize her feelings, one that wasn’t reciprocated. It was just too embarrassing to deal with it so Juli decided to pull away. Then before she knew it, Lip and her barely spoke and she was packing her boxes to move to Layla’s apartment. “I would love a Paul Rudd regardless of his age,” Juli teased herself. “Thank you though… For helping me pick up the pieces. You always come through everytime and I want you to know that love you so much more than words can explain.”

“You had me at bakery.” Juli said, remembering the treats that Lyric had gotten her earlier in the morning. “I’m so sad you can’t see the cute dogs, so I actually took photos of them this morning! I don’t even know if this is possible, but when I become a very successful vet, I will find a cure to your dog allergies.” Juli turned on her phone and handed it over to Layla to show her the photos of all the pets in costume. “I love all of them, but Lizard Leia slaaaays!”

-

Layla was happy if her best friend was happy, so her face beamed at Juli’s compliment. “We’re a package deal, this couldn’t have happened without the two of us.” Who else would she pick to be her Cher? Absolutely no one. “In my Hollywood, people better be alright with an Asian Cher,” she laughed. “I would probably omit the whole falling in love with the ex-step-brother thing though. That’s still a little weird. But I would still have Paul Rudd trying to play a college student.” The man was almost age-less, so it would still work. “I think we’re already doing it right... the day we stop getting carded everywhere we go is the day I think we’re old.” She couldn’t even imagine the both of them with wrinkles.

She smiled softly. “I’m always here for you pal. And I love you too. What are platonic life partners for?” She was ecstatic to be living with Juli now. She already hung out with her a lot before the move-in, but now it was like having sleepovers every single night. Giving how the year had been going a few months ago with Grandma Ellie, things had definitely turned for the better lately. Her mouth dropped when Juli said she took pictures. “Oh my god I love you!” she bounced in her seat, excitedly taking the phone to scroll through the pictures. “Oh my God... ooohh my Goooood Princess Leia-zard does slay!” She laughed, before she started fake crying at the three-headed corgi. “I’m going to cry... this tiny Cerberus are you kidding me!” Her love for dogs was so strong that the likelihood of her breaking into tears over this damn dog was highly likely. Once she was done near-crying at all the cute pictures, she gave the phone back to Juli. “I will throw all of my vast amounts of world famous screenwriter money at you to go to the best veterinary school in the world. I can’t live the rest of my life like this. I need a Cerberus!”

           Nora’s first thought upon being greeted by her sister was the low-grade disappointment. It didn’t seem personal, but rather that of unexpected guests, Nora was highly unexpected, but there was someone else who could’ve been turning up at her sister’s apartment at such a late hour. Nora’s expression faltered for a moment when she considered the fact that she hadn’t the faintest idea who this other person could be. 

           Still, Layla let her in, and that was good enough for now. Given that she’d worked earlier, Nora wasn’t exactly the picture of glamor, but she’d put her usual (high level) effort into her appearance this morning, and felt overdressed for the occasion. As she followed her younger sister toward her kitchen, Nora admired the setup; she was sure that her sister would answer modestly, claim that her abode ‘wasn’t much.’ But it was hers.

                                   “Oh, um, no..” Nora began. It seemed that Layla’s nerves were contagious, for a moment. But then her usual confidence found her once more. “I’m here because I wanted to see you. Though, I suppose we could find something to celebrate.”

So... Nora just wanted to hang out? Just because? Layla was definitely confused. She placed the wine glasses on the kitchen counter and grabbed the wine opener from one of the drawers. “Oh, okay... yeah, sure, that sounds good to me.” She wasn’t really sure what else to say to that. She wasn’t necessarily wanting her sister not to be here. She was just confused. She figured Nora would be busy with Nate or, pretty much anyone else but her. “I don’t really have anything to celebrate. Other than, like, finally finishing this show on Netflix...” Saying it out loud sounded pretty sad. Plus she was emotionally strained from witnessing one of the purest and most tragic love stories she’d ever seen. Maybe she would treat herself to two glasses of wine. She took the bottle from Nora and removed the cork. “Do... you have anything to celebrate? Some Mom stuff? Nate get like a gold star for... perfect attendance or something?” It’d been a minute since she was in school.

After the Jack and Rose’s wedding reception, everything seemed to change. Juli began to realize her feelings for her best friend and it scared her. It scared her to the point that all her advice she had given to Layla about love and following your heart became nothing but a hypocritical monolog she herself would not follow. Here she was a few months later and she was back to feeling like her whole world was upside down.

At Layla’s words, Juli opened her mouth to protest, but decided better against it. What’s the point of bumming around another few more weeks if she was the one that chose for things to be this way. She sighed and nodded at Layla. “Deal.” She picked up her fork and picked at her corn bread. “You’re right, we look amazing! I need to stop feeling this way.” Taking a huge piece of corn bread, Juli stuffs her mouth. There’s plenty of fish in the sea and one fear rejection shouldn’t derail her whole life… At least not when she’s kind of finally figuring out what she wanted to do with it. “What’s on the agenda for today anyways? After here, which runway are we showing off to next?”

-

Layla picked up her fork and playfully pointed it at Juli. “You’re damn right we look amazing. Especially you -- who knew you could rock blonde locks? I mean, I did of course, but no one else did! Now look at you!” If only she could feel this comfortably complimenting people who weren’t her best friend. “If I become a super famous screenwriter in the next couple months, I will be writing a Clueless reboot and it’ll star us. We can still pass for fifteen. Well, Hollywood’s standard for fifteen anyway.” Meaning grown adults being passed off as children. Classic Hollywood. “I know you’re super bummed about... what happened. But, you deserve someone who treats you like the queen you are. Well, the Cher you are, in this case. A nice young Paul Rudd. We all deserve that, actually,” she chuckled. While she was never Lip’s biggest fan -- even less now with this whole situation -- she would always suck it up if that meant Juli was happy. But now she wasn’t happy, and she wished some preferably dressed exactly like Prince Charming today would randomly come in and sweep her best friend off her feet so she would forget all about Lip.

“There’s so much stuff to do today I don’t even know where to start. Nora’s gonna have some super cute Halloween stuff at the bakery, maybe after we stuff our faces here we can keep stuffing our faces over there. Or pet some piggies at the Everly farm since I can’t pet the doggies at Penny’s unless I want to die of an asthma attack.” When she heard that Penny’s was having a pet costume contest, Layla wanted to cry knowing she couldn’t be near the dogs that would likely participate. Of all allergies to have, why did it have to be dogs? Why couldn’t it be something she didn’t want to pet all the time, like an iguana? 

Juli had only recently moved in with Layla, and while Layla was ecstatic to have her best friend as a roommate now, she knew it took a bit of drama to get there. She was hoping today, being that it was Halloween, the best holiday in the history of humanity, would cheer her friend a bit given what was going on between her and Lip. Granted, Juli’s situation had some similarities to her own with Riley’s, and it served as a warning to Layla to please accept that her and Riley were friends. She would rather be their friend than nothing at all. That wasn’t sad, right? 

“So, I have a plan here. Let’s get the whole Lip thing out of our system for today, get this Devil’s Chicken in my tummy, and then proceed to dominate this town with our dope costumes. Deal?” she joked.

The sight of Layla in her outfit sends their heart haywire. Lips stretching into an even broader, toothy grin, Riley tries their best to be patient as Layla and Matt interact. There are still other people interacting around the booth, and they want to ensure the mood doesn’t drop simply because they got distracted by a pretty face. When she finally does turn her attention towards them, Riley is all too ready to spout off a few of their Halloween themed lines, “Wowee! You look good enough to eat!” The innuendo isn’t lost on them, but it is Halloween after-all, and they never had issues saying this kind of thing to other friends, “Mmm.. not so… trying that whole save a horse, ride a cowboy thing this season, me being said cowboy. Anyways…” they’re trying to hold down a laugh but doing so is much harder with the alcohol in their system keeping them light, warm, and uninhibited. “So you came for booze, is it your boo time? Where’s Murray? Because you know…” their eyebrows wiggle, “I can always be a stand-in if you need someone to hold your hand during the haunted house.”

Layla was a little chilly in her skirt getup for her costume, but within seconds her face was burning and she felt warm enough to no longer notice the cold October air at Riley’s compliment. “Ah, th-thanks.” She wished she could stop their remarks from affecting her so much, especially since she was trying hard to accept the whole “only friends” thing she concocted in her mind. Not hard enough, it seemed. “Save a... o-oh. Right.” It took her a moment to register what they had said. “Yeah, right, I... get that... no horses... gotcha. Hah.” She may have been trying to accept they were just friends, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted to hear them being a cowboy that was being... ridden. Maybe it was a good idea she ordered an R.I.P. Motherfucker. She stood there at their offer, wondering first if they were even being serious, and second wondering what would happen if she actually said yes. There was nothing wrong with hand-holding, friends did that. She had held Juli’s hand plenty of times in her life. Duh. “No boo. Murray got dumped because I found some self-respect and got sick of him calling me ‘woman’ after telling him not to do that,” she joked. “S-so uh, I mean, haunted houses don’t really scare me much but... like... yeah, sure, since he’s not around.” She was more than ready to pass it off as a joke if it came to that. She immediately grabbed the neon blue drink when Matt finished it and took a sip. Oh, okay, that wasn’t bad. It was sweet and tart, she could deal with this. 

She was doing it again. She was absolutely doing it again. But the second she had seen Riley in their costume, she kept getting the urge to sneak a look while she was at the other booths. She had thought she accepted they would just be friends. Even now she was telling herself that. But things had been weird since their baking session and movie date -- no, not date, it was a hang out -- and Layla felt in her bones it had been her fault. It took a lot of convincing herself, but eventually she mustered up the courage to make her way over to the booth -- adorably named Booze and Boos. Already she was blushing as her eyes were completely focused on Riley’s form.

“Hey!” She had no idea how she forgot Matt was standing right there, so she quickly turned to him. “Cool costume! I loved Rocketman.” Matt offered a smile and thanked her before making a remark that she looked absolutely fabulous as Dionne. She let out a sheepish chuckle and offered a thanks in return. She honestly hadn’t come here for a drink, but for the sake of a cover she asked for whatever the heck an R.I.P. Motherfucker was. As Matt started to mix the drink, she brought her eyes to Riley. Don’t be weird, she told herself before speaking out loud. “Your costume, it’s.... really nice.” Not this “nice” nonsense again! “I mean um, you look really amazing in it. Are... your horses in the back?” Really?

LAYLA BRODERICK - DIONNE DAVENPORT (CLUELESS)

The mention of a date is news. When Rob and Riley had spoken about the encounter their roommate had with a mysterious individual, she had only told them that the other woman had been a hook-up, or at least, an almost hook-up. Their cheeks suck in, nestling right between their teeth as they bite down ever so slightly to hide their discomfort. A smile is plastered nonetheless because really this isn’t a big deal, or at least, that’s what they have to remind themself of. Nothing has happened, or at least, nothing has happened that they can’t make an excuse for. An almost kiss can easily be chalked up to two drunk friends getting a bit overly affectionate. It was nothing new to them after all. Yet, they still feel stupid. 

“A regular old date huh? She had mentioned something about meeting with someone, and I had my suspicions it was my good pal Layla, but I had no idea you both had a whole date planned,” they finally reply, eyes finding themself gazing at the oven rather than their friend before them. “Well you know, I’d be happy to put in a good word or two, if I’m feeling generous —” they jest with a smile upon their face, though the normal playful spark in their eyes has dissipated, “—if you’d like. I’ve kinda gotta knack for setting friends up. I’ve actually been thinking if this whole producer thing doesn’t work out that I’ll just become the local matchmaker.”

As quickly as the suggestion is made, they’re already moving along, finding comfort in the idea and promise of fresh air. “Cool. Well uh… what’d you say we go sit out on that balcony you were telling me about while we wait for those cookies. Then we can get our Steve Carrell fan club going once we’ve got a little something to snack on?” 

-

So Rob had mentioned it, to some degree. Her ears were burning as she realized her mistake. But she couldn’t bring herself to confess the whole story -- wouldn’t it be worse? A casual date that went nowhere was better than making them think she was a coward. But then they started talking about putting in a good word for her, and her brow furrowed. She wasn’t sure what she had wanted their reaction to be, but certainly not that -- had she actually been misreading everything that like she was afraid to do? “O-oh um...” Before she could come up with any kind of answer, Riley had quickly moved on about the balcony. She stood there, even more confused than before Rob came into the conversation. Maybe Layla had been right. Maybe they just had too much to drink at the wedding. Maybe, as usual, she was being an idiot. She gave a slight nod. “Yeah, sure.”

---

It was arguably the longest two hours of her life. She had been barely paying attention to the movie, despite her eyes glued to the screen the entire time. She only kept them there because she had to fight off the urge to turn her head towards them. All she could think about was replaying that moment at the wedding over and over, morphing it into several different ways it actually went. Had she actually been wrong? Of course, it was more likely than the alternative. How foolish she was to entertain the idea that they could ever want to be more than just friends. But what made it worse was that it didn’t deter her from wanting to be around them. Same old cycle, Layla, she thought to herself. Suffering in silence. She felt guilty being relieved when the credits started to roll. She sat up to grab the plate where the cookies had once been before they were devoured from the coffee table. “I tried really hard, but, I still don’t get where the attraction to Steve Carrell’s coming from,” she teased as she stood up. Mentally she scolded herself for that silly ache going on in her chest right now. The all-to-familiar feeling of defeat. She was quick to head to the kitchen to wash the plate. Cleaning always gave her the illusion of feeling better. “Maybe if they took out everyone in the cast except for Kevin Bacon. Then I’d finally get it.”

STARTER: CLOSED. LOCATION: LAYLA’S PLACE. TIME: LATE EVENING.

@layla-broderick​

            Ever since the night of the wedding, Nora felt a small, but perceptible shift between herself and Layla. Like, a door being cracked open. She knew, as the older sister, it was her responsibility to initiate the repair to their relationship. Especially since she was the one who abruptly took off and hadn’t looked back, save a few brief holiday visits. Sometimes, it had just felt like with everything that had transpired, the hill of differences between them was insurmountable. 

            But, tonight, after checking in at The Hideout to be sure that Layla was off, Nora appeared at her sister’s apartment, bottle of wine in hand, ready to make a more concerted effort than she had previously at fixing one of the most important relationships in her and Nathan’s lives.

                                    When Layla opened the door, Nora flashed her a smile. A real one. “Hi. I come in peace. Isn’t that from a movie you like?”

-

it seemed like Layla had been a mess of emotions since the wedding, worsened only by her latest hang out with Riley. All she had wanted to do after that painfully awkward situation was to lie in her bed and watch Netflix shows. The only issue was that she had made the mistake of binge-watching The Haunting of Bly Manor, and now she was even more of a mess. After traumatizing herself with the last episode, she made her way over to the kitchen to scarf down some ice cream to deal with what she just witnessed, but before she reached the fridge, there was a knock at the door. She looked at the door, initially confused at who it could be at this time. Then her heart started to race as she entertained the idea that it could have been Riley. Swallowing hard, she slowly made her way over to the door, heart stopping as she opened it.

It was an even bigger surprise -- Nora. Her eyebrows raised, slightly confused on why her sister was here. Her eyes dropped to the bottle in her sister’s hands. This was... different. “H-hi.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, clearly not expecting guests as she stood there in a tank top, sweats, a messy bun, and no contacts. Not a great look when standing next to Nora in comparison. “That’s like... a lot of movies that use that but yeah, technically I guess.” She stepped aside to let Nora in before closing the door behind her. Figuring she should get out the wine glasses, she headed into the kitchen expecting Nora to follow her. “Are we celebrating something or...?”

“Ethereal?” Aicha repeated teasingly, her brows arching in amusement. “Remind me to have you do the toast at my wedding. I can see it now. The light moving to stand over you, the mic being placed in your hand. A co-host…..of whom I’ve yet to pick but who will definitely be there, announcing you before you begin. Introducing Layla Broderick, best-selling author and two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, here to give the world’s most flattering speech about the world’s most ethereal bride.” Aicha took a sip of her chai then, giving a playful wink. “You think I’m kidding but I’m so not. Got to manifest these things yeah?” 

At the mention of Riley, Aicha paused for a moment, taking a moment to make eye contact with Layla. All silliness aside, she wanted her friend to know how grateful she was for her trust. That it wasn’t something she took for granted.  Smiling, Aicha spoke again, considering her words carefully. “Aaaah, that makes a lot more sense. Have you ever thought that maybe you don’t need to write them a poem? I mean, let’s be honest. Some of the greatest poets of our time struggled to describe how they felt.. Maybe you could make something that uses your words but that also has visuals? That way you could show them what you see and how you feel when you see them..”

-

When Aicha repeated the word to her, she suddenly felt like it sounded absolutely ridiculous. Too strong a word. She wasn’t even sure where she was going with this poem anyway. “You have higher expectations for me than I do,” she said with a small laugh. “I would be happy if I at least got a job in the writers’ room for some sub-par kids’ sitcom on like Nickelodeon or Disney at this point.” What was sad was Layla felt that she would be able to write a better toast for Aicha than whatever sad attempt at a poem she was doing right now. She didn’t understand -- she had all these feelings. Why was she having trouble writing them down?

Blushing, Layla’s eyes dropped down to the paper. She was comfortable with Aicha, she had since high school, but she felt sheepish still with this particular topic. “You mean just jotting down the words going on in my head, without structure or intentional imagery? I mean, I could...” Why was she talking like this was something she was actually going to give them? “I mean, no, I’m not -- I’m not planning to give this to them or anything. I just. Wanted to put my thoughts somewhere...” She sighed as she looked up at Aicha. “I’m being silly, right? Trying to even write poems? Who do I think I am, Emily Dickinson?” 

Juli tried her best to keep still as Layla began to verbalize what she wanted. Excitement filled her body as she witnessed Layla making so much more progress in one night than they both have done in the past few years. “That’s true… If I liked someone, it would be nice if they liked me back…” Juli continued to listen to Layla, nodding at her words. “Maybe it just happened instantly, but… How did you figure out you liked them?”

“No no, I would never let you move to Alaska, at least not without me.” Juli joked, letting out a laugh to ease the mood briefly before sighing. “I wish I had the answers… But I really only know about one-sided crushes. I guess looking back to my cringy high school phase, I would have wished to just know if the person liked me back… that way I can move on quicker if they didn’t so I wouldn’t waste anymore time… But I also had different goals then…” Juli moved her legs so that she was sitting with them crossed on the couch. Resting an elbow on her thigh, she leaned her head on her hand. “Have they contacted you back since last night? Maybe if they still want to hang out, you could just ask them? I know this might be the worst advice in history, but if you’ve already figured out your feelings… It seems like the next logical step… right?”  

How did she figure it out? It was hard to explain -- she wasn’t sure if there was an exact moment that the butterflies decided to fly around her stomach. “Um... I don’t know. I just started getting all these butterflies whenever I was near them. Found it really hard not to look at them when they weren’t looking. And um, just found myself wanting to talk to them. Like all the time. Which I don’t want to seem like annoying or clingy or anything so I try not to do that. But doesn’t stop me from feeling it anyway.” Juli was her best friend, but they had been relatively on the same road of life when it came to romance. Layla had diverted for a moment there in high school, but after that failed attempt at romance, she was just as clueless as Juli was. But there was some comfort in venting to Juli at least. It helped her cope with these feelings she had, without feeling crazy for having them. She shook her head at Juli’s question. “No, we haven’t talked...” Layla frowned slightly. “I could... yeah, yeah I’ll text them.” She nodded, even though her anxiety shot through the roof at the idea of reaching out to them. But if they said yes to hanging out... maybe that was a good sign? “If they do come over, I could try to um... bring it up. The wedding, I mean. It’s just --” She sighed, breath shaky as she exhaled. “It’s scary, you know? Cuz we’ve been really great as friends. I mean, I feel like I’m gonna pass out every time they compliment me but besides that. I just don’t wanna make anything awkward.”

His smirk remained at her joke, that slight tease something he had expected in some fashion, for even Ian could see how his previous comment had set her up for it. Apathy having been what most assumed him to be—though such a description was not entirely true. No, depending on the topic, Ian could be utterly enthralled. Passionate. Obsessed. It simply took something that could capture his interest to pull more than simply a smirk or an absent glance from the boy. “I should really tone it down,” he drawled, piling on to her teasing in his own dry way. Silence capturing him as it always tended too, as she continued speaking. She understood, or appeared too, and that would be enough to garner a silent nod. Finding no need to repeat what she had said—to voice his agreement.

As she smoke next, Ian’s hand would find his back pocket. Tugging free that small notepad he tended to carry, before plucking a pencil that had been forgotten behind his ear. He wrote quickly, listening as his script would make its way along that small piece of lined paper. “That’s her email,” he’d say, tearing that paper free and holding it out to Layla. Ian was reminded of the last time he’d done this—that doodle shared weeks earlier. “I’ll let her know that you’ll be using it. When you’re ready.” Whether she did so or not, was entirely up to Layla then, though Ian would keep his word. He would tell his publisher to expect something. 

“Just tone it down a bit. It’s too much,” she continued to tease. It was easy for her be dry around others with similar humor, when she wasn’t an awkward mess around them. She had quickly grown comfortable with Ian. She took the piece of paper, still in disbelief that he was willing to do this for someone he barely knew. She had to think of some way to repay him. Maybe she would bake something, that was usually her go-to type of repayment. “Wow, this is just... so cool of you Ian, seriously.” She offered a warm smile. She was always touched by others’ kindness. “I’ll um... yeah, I definitely will. When I’m ready,” she repeated. Whatever she sent, it had to be perfect. Her best work to date. How she would get there, she had yet to figure out. But even though it was just an opportunity, it was a step in the right direction. “I know... we don’t really know each other well, but I think you’re a really great guy. Seriously.”