The Laws of Love and Lust by Omolarami Akindiji

Chapter one

Amarie Wells stared at the envelope in her hands, anxious yet excited. Whatever the letter inside read would define her whole future. The contents of the envelope just had to be positive; it was a part of her ten year life plan.

"Come on. Just do it. Open it."

Taking a deep breath, she flipped it over, closed her eyes, and slid the butter knife under the seal. Before beginning to read she said a quick prayer. Goose bumps appeared on her arm as her eyes flew across the page. It was the news she was waiting for and it was as amazing as she had hoped. A scream of excitement and joy broke from her throat causing her best friend and roommate, Chris Taliani, to come running into the kitchen.

“I swear you better be dying.” He grumbled, pushing his long, chocolate brown hair out of his face. It was eleven in the morning so he had still been sleeping. He looked up at her from his storm grey eyes, still hazy with the remnants of sleep.

“Chris, I got it.” She breathed. “I got the job.”

That woke him up. He rushed over, snatching the cream coloured paper from her hands. “Oh my god! Amarie, you got in!” He yelled, hugging her around the waist, swinging her around their studio apartment.

She was in such a state of shock that it still hadn’t exactly hit her. Her dream was coming true; being able to practice law at Taylor, Vaughn, & Pratt and actually make a difference.

She had fought her way through seven years of school, damn near killed herself studying for the bar exam, and graduated with honours just to be stuck in a soul-sucking cashier job at a grocery store near the apartment. Her eyes glossed over the acceptance letter again and she smiled. Tears began to fall from her eyes as she began thinking of how her life was finally going in the direction she wanted it to.

The letter had come at the perfect time--Amarie had begun to lose hope that she’d ever achieve her dream. At twenty five, she was tired of working a dead-end job that had nothing to do with her field of study and was beginning to feel like her ten-year plan to be a lawyer was nothing but a childish pipe dream.

She’d graduated high school and went straight to college, leaving behind her family. She moved to New York so that she could pursue being a lawyer at a firm and Chris moved so he could become an acclaimed actor. It hadn’t work out that way, sadly. They’d filled out hundreds of applications between the two of them and yet neither of them was hired for the job they wanted. He was an usher at an off-Broadway theatre and she was a cashier. Many times she’d contemplated going back home to Silverton, Colorado but that wasn’t where her heart was. She’d left that young small-town girl behind, and with it, all the security and comfort that a small close-knit town offered, trading it in for a big, bustling city and the promise of meaningful and lasting work.

“So,” Chris said, still bearing a large smile. “You go hop in the shower, I’m going to cook us a breakfast, and then we’re going out--we have a long day ahead of us.”

“What do you mean? I was just planning to sit around the house.”

Chris’ eyes bulged as if she’d just said the most incredulous thing in the world. “You just got a new job as a hot-shot big city lawyer, and I’ve seen your closet. There’s no way you’re just sitting in the house today.”

Amarie was shaking her head, hoping it too wasn’t too late to stop Chris’ thought process. She knew where he was going and she knew that it wouldn’t end well for her or her credit card.

“Chris, we--”

“Shopping spree!” He exclaimed, pushing her towards the bathroom, effectively telling her that he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. Amarie turned the shower on, watching the room fill up with steam as she disrobed.

She studied her reflection as the mirror fogged up, she knew it was foolish but she expected herself to look different somehow. More professional. After all, when she had woken up today she had been nothing but a cashier, but now, she was a lawyer and living out her dream job. Surely there was some part of her that would be different.

But, no matter how much she inspected her body, everything was the same. She still had the same shoulder-length brunette curls that she’d had since college, the same light hazel eyes that she’d always found vapid and dull, and the exact same pair of lips that, in her opinion, had always been much too big for her face.

She stood under the spray of her shower, letting the beads of water wash over her. She even took the time to explore her body, letting her hands follow the contours of her curves, searching for even the minutest of changes. When she found none, she resumed her bathing, and got out.

She walked into the kitchen, a towel draped around her body and another wrapped around her hair. The smell of frying bacon and eggs welcomed her graciously. As did the sight of Chris, cooking and dancing to classic R&B songs as he flipped the strips of bacon with a fork.

“It’s 7 o’clock, on the dot, I’m in my--”

He stopped singing into the fork as if it was a microphone when he noticed her. He gave a low wolf-whistle in appreciation of her curvaceous body fresh from the shower. “Believe me A, you’re going to be the hottest lawyer that ever walked into the courthouse.” He winked at her. “Especially after we get you some of those sexy, yet oh-so professional pantsuits.”

“Really? Pantsuits? I always thought I was more of the skirt and blazer kind of attorney,” she said with a laugh as she crossed the hall to her room. She rummaged through her closet, a bit unsatisfied with the selection, and finally picked out a simple outfit. A plain blue crop-top with a pair of dark denim high-waisted jeans.

By the time she went back into the kitchen, Chris had their plates set out and on the table. “Bon appetit, mon cherie. By the way,” he added as she took her seat, “I’ve already called off, so you have me for the whole day.”

“Wait,” Amarie said, holding a piece bacon in the air. “Are you sure that’s okay? Didn’t you say you were on thin ice at the theatre already?”

“Yeah, but come on, my best friend just got the job of her dreams. What kind of bestie would I be if I didn’t take you out, do some retail celebration, and then get you drunk?”

“I’m not getting drunk, but you know I’m always down for some retail therapy.”

***

“Okay, no,” Amarie said through a fit of laughter. The two of them were inside the cramped dressing room in the womenswear department and she stood in a bra and panties, with only a blazer on, while she held up two hangers. “Seriously, we have to make the choice now. Skirts or pants?”

“Well,” Chris said, standing up and taking the hanger with the pants from her hands. “I feel like these say that you’re intelligent, fierce and professional. Able to do any job that a man can do and probably look way better doing it.”

“But,” he continued, this time snatching the skirt from her hands. “These say that you’re wise enough to know that you can be smart and successful while still keeping your femininity. Plus, you have some amazing ass legs and it would be a total self cock-block for you to cover them up.”

“Two questions. Is it still called cock-blocking if you have a vagina? And does everything in the world lead back to sex for you?”

“One, yes, I think so. I mean, what else would it? Twat-swat?” The two of them burst into laughter so loud that the occupant of the other side of the dressing room coughed, signalling them to keep it down.

“It just doesn’t have the same ring.” Chris continued, lowering his voice. “And two, yes. Everything does come back to sex. Don’t blame me, it’s the way the world works.”

Amarie scoffed. “Oh, the thrills of being a gay man.”

“It’s not just us, sweetheart. Everyone is getting their rocks off--except you. I mean, God, Amarie, how long has it actually been? Please don’t tell me the last person you had sex with was Lucas.”

“Would that be so bad? I mean, he was the last person I dated.”

“Yeah, two years ago.” Chris put emphasis on the words as if it had been a lifetime ago. And, if she was being honest with herself, sometimes at night when her body began to tingle and ache for the touch of someone, it did feel like it had been that long. “That’s it. We’re definitely going out tonight. I’m going to be the best wingman ever.”

“No, no, no. Whenever you try to help me get laid, it ends horribly. How many times do I have to tell you, anyway? I’m not like you. I can’t just have sex with random guys.”

“Hey,” Chris said, holding his chest in mock indignation. “I resent that. They’re not random. I usually know their names. Or at least their screen-names.”

“You’re a slut, you know that right?”

“Whatever. You love me bitch. Now come on, I’m getting claustrophobic in here.”

Amarie and Chris walked to the register, the attendant that stood by the dressing room following them with her eyes the whole time. Amarie had gotten used to it. She’d noticed when she first moved to the city that people were far more distrustful than they’d been back in her small town. Employees kept watchful eyes, people locked their bikes up even if they’d only be in the store for a minute or two, and everyone generally thought everyone else was out to get them.

When she was with Chris, however, she noticed that employees followed them around more vigorously. She didn’t know if it was because he was black or because he was gay, but regardless of the reason, she knew it wasn’t right. It was discrimination and prejudicial treatment like this that had made her want to become a lawyer in the first place. She wanted to fight to ensure that everyone got the same treatment and a fair shot at life.

“Amarie? Hello?” Chris snapped his fingers in front of her face, bringing her back to the present. “It’s your turn at the register.”

Amarie stepped up to the cashier and placed her belongings on the table. She’d went a little crazy, but she felt it was justified, if not rightly deserved. She did have a new job, and it definitely would require a more elegant and professional wardrobe. And if she had ended up splurging a little bit in the process, how wrong was that? I mean, she had a real job now. She could afford to splurge a little.

“Your total is $742.49 today. Will that be cash or credit?”

Amarie felt her heart drop at just the mention of the price. She’d planned to splurge, sure, but that was a bit overkill. She barely made that much in three weeks at her cashier job.

Chris gave another whistle, pulling her to the side slightly, away from the cashier. “Are you sure you can afford this? You know I love you and would happily pay your rent if you needed, but you see, with the way my bank account is set up--”

Amarie cut him off with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry, I got this. After all, you said it yourself, I’m a big hotshot lawyer now.” She passed the cashier her credit card and felt a small drop in her stomach as she swiped it in the machine. She really hoped that she was right.

It was around five o’clock when the pair of them finally left the mall and Amarie was tired. Before she even slid into the backseat of the car, she was having thoughts of her soft sheets and plush pillows. Chris, on the other hand, had a completely different plan for their night in mind.

“So,” he said as they sat in the back of a black Honda, their uber driver up front, bobbing his head along to the music. “I guess we’ll get home, do a little pre-gaming, get dressed and then hit up a few bars? Maybe The Pink Arrow?” He nudged her as he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Wait, whoa, who said anything about going out?”

“I did. This morning. Remember?”

“Vaguely,” she lied. “But that was before you dragged me into half a dozen stores, had me in the mall for like four hours, and I maxed out my credit card for the month. Now, I just want to go home, cuddle with my pillow, and try not to think about all the money that I spent today.”

“And how is that any different from what you do any other day?” Chris asked, making a good point. “How long have we been feeling borderline-depressed and hopeless? Thinking that we’d be stuck in these stupid dead-end jobs and never have an actual shot at our dreams?

“Three months? Six? A year? I honestly don’t even know. I’ve stopped keeping track of the time.

“But I’ve never given up, and neither did you. There’s been so many times where I’ve come close, but you kept me going, and I know I’ve had to talk you out of a funk more than once. We made it together because we knew there was someone else willing to weather the struggle for what they believed in.

“Now, that you’ve actually done it, there’s no doubt in my mind that I can do it. And if we stuck by each other through all the hurdles and other obstacles, you’d have to be crazy to think that we’re not going to get out and celebrate now that one of us has reached the finish line.”

By the time he was finished, Amarie was clutching his hands, and could feel tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She hated crying, but everything he said had been so true. This had been the hardest part of her life--even harder than law school and the bar--and she knew there was no way she’d have made it without Chris.

“I think you should go.” Their Uber driver, Stan, said. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. That was a beautiful speech.”

“See?” Chris said smiling, stifling a laugh. “Even Stan knows we have to celebrate. It’s settled. So, no more whining about being tired.”

They got back into their apartment complex and Chris didn’t waste any time pouring a round of vodka shots for them. Amarie was thankful that she’d had a cinnamon roll at the mall food court. When Chris drank, he went all the way, and with his physique--6’2 and a lean, muscular frame--he could throw them back with the best of them.

Amarie, on the other hand, was small. She stood at 5’7 in her highest pair of heels and was only 135 pounds--which, she hoped, would be down to 130 by the time she started working. So, she was glad that the sugary bread was sitting in her stomach and hoped it would soak up some of the alcohol of the night.

Because knowing Chris, and she did, there would be lots of it.