Dose 𝓣hree

Dose Three Observations:
Subject exhibits a liking for pumpkin-cream cheesecake donuts.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

“What if we just don’t show up?” Zion said, flipping the pancakes on the griddle they must’ve gotten recently.

I’ve never seen it before now.

“If you want to get sued,” I mumbled, knowing that’s what would follow all of this.

And I know Leon well enough that he would sue just to prove a point.

“Future employers would probably hear about it too,” I added, stealing a few of the cut-up apples that Sarai was preparing with cinnamon. “They would make sure employers hear.”

It would be another way to add to his proven point.

Leon would purposely make it hard for us to get any kind of job, and then have the audacity to swoop in and offer us the same fellowship again.

“I’ll just freelance with you,” Zion determined with a few nods.

I cracked a sarcastic smile. “Freelancing is great, but it would be nice to have consistency,” I said, dramatically parting my lips when Sarai lightly slapped my hand away from the apples. “Besides, I’m sure if they made this public, it would affect freelancing too, Zi. No one wants to work with people who quit their job days before they start.”

“True,” Sarai mumbled, earning a narrowed look from her boyfriend.

“Not helping,” he said, nudging her arm. “There has to be a way around this.”

“These are petty people—we go low, and they go lower than hell,” I emphasized, walking around them to grab some plates for us.

Zion sighed dramatically. “So, take the job and hate it, or don’t take the job, and still hate it.”

“I hate to say it, babe, but we’re not in a position to battle the job market or a lawsuit, especially right now,” Sarai said, dusting her cinnamon-coated hands off.

Internally, I agreed.

Mostly for them, given that Sarai was early into her master's degree.

“I know,” was all Zion said, and I could hear the defeat in his voice.

It was a defeat that I had already come to terms with.

That’s how it is with the Leclairs.

There’s never really a way out of it.

I’ve already learned enough times to just not even fight it at this point.

I’ll be there on Monday.

Not on time.

Not abiding by the dress code.

And not with a smile.

I’m going to make every day hard for them.

“Well, we still need to go furniture shopping,” Sarai reminded me, walking over to the fridge.

I raised a playful brow, carefully setting the last glass plate down on the counter, “We do, don’t we?”

“You guys do,” Zion clarified, transferring the last pancake from the griddle. “I hate shopping.”

Sarai hummed as she grabbed the yogurt from the fridge. “We know, babe,” she said, opening the large container. “We’ll do a girls’ day.”

I smiled at the new plans. “Sounds perfect,” I said as Zion began plating the pancakes.

Sarai added more cinnamon to the vanilla yogurt, adding the cut-up apple slices to the yogurt on the plate.

It was the perfect fall breakfast, especially the pancakes drizzled in warm sticky syrup.

Jynx laid sprawled out on the couch while we ate, until I eventually had to go up to my apartment and get ready for the day.

I took Jynx with me, so she could lie in her own bed where she preferred.

Then I picked out my outfit, which was a black sweatshirt and matching biker shorts.

I pulled my wavy hair into a ponytail, gelling down any loose baby hairs.

I skipped out on makeup since this was more of an errands day and slipped on my shoes, spraying myself with vanilla perfume.

Jynx was officially aware that I was leaving, but what she didn’t know was that she would be hanging out with Zion while we were out.

She still wasn’t happy that I was leaving, though, even if she was left with someone.

I already knew she would have an attitude when I got back.

“So when does your car come today?” Sarai asked, focusing on the road as I chilled in the passenger seat of her Lexus.

I actually couldn’t wait to shop—yes, because I love shopping, but also because all the fall stuff will be out.

“Uhhh, I think the evening,” I murmured, staring forward at the traffic.

The sky was grey, and the white overcast clouds were heavy.

Seattle had that smell—like wet leaves and coffee.

Autumn always feels like a fever dream here, in the best way.

LA is basically a filter, nothing is ever as it seems on the surface.

Everyone’s fake and insincere.

But Seattle is like a mirror—it’s real.

“We’re definitely getting donuts,” Sarai determined, smoothly switching lanes. “Fall ones. The kind that has apple or pumpkin filling.”

“Extra filling,” I emphasized, and we both nodded in agreement.

We hit the home district first—basically, curated streets where furniture stores pretend they’re galleries selling handmade pieces.  

The first place was a lot of beige.

Everything was named something Scandinavian and soft, like if you breathed too hard, the sofas would bruise.

“Okay, your couch,” Sarai said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“I’m ready, girl,” I murmured, glancing around as we walked.

We browsed through a handful of sectionals, unable to find the one I truly liked.  

I kept touching the texture.

Bouclé, velvet that left behind my handprint, and leather that felt cool to the touch.

The saleswoman in a camel blazer hovered and then pretended she wasn’t hovering.

Sarai tested the cushion and softness, sinking into each couch we viewed.

“This one,” she declared at a dark slate sectional with a chaise that looked like it would forgive any of my messy decisions. “It’s neutral but not boring.”

“I kind of like it,” I said as I sat down.

It was soft—really cushioned too.

I imagined falling asleep here with my laptop on my stomach and Jynx draped over my knees.

“That’s a lovely choice. We have this one on hand. Same day or next day delivery is possible,” the saleswoman said with too much speed.

She probably gets commission.

Still, I couldn’t help but nod, determining this couch would be perfect.

Next, we added a coffee table and an area rug to balance the space.

Somehow, I ended up swiping my card for a purchase over five thousand dollars.  

“Donuts now,” Sarai said as soon as we exited the furniture store. “You look low on sugar and high on irritation.”

“I’m overstimulated,” I mumbled.

Shopping will do it, though, especially for big furniture purchases like these.

My head hurts.

Even the view of the donut shop was enough to make me feel relieved.

I’m really fucking hungry, so that's contributing a lot to my headache.

And I could use some caffeine right now.

It smelled like heaven when we walked in, the sweet bakery scent mixed with the tart coffee aroma.

Behind the glass, the donuts were fat halos.

I wanted all of them and a new brain.

“We would like to get a dozen,” Sarai told the guy at the counter.

“A dozen. Got it,” he said, tapping the screen a few times, listening to Sarai name off the flavors we wanted.

“And two lattes,” I added right when she finished. “Oat milk. Extra hot.”

“Do you want pumpkin?” he asked in a way that sounded like he was offering me a cult.

Pumpkin spice lattes are probably considered to be a cult these days.

Or PSL’s I should call them.

“Yes, please,” I answered, since I had already given into the PSL cult many falls ago.

While they boxed up our donuts, Sarai’s phone buzzed with a call from her mom.

I had met the woman once.

She was nice, crinkles lining her eyes when she smiled, and she smelled like sugar cookies.

She and Sarai were practically best friends.

“One sec, Libs,” Sarai murmured, stepping back from the counter.

“Take your time,” I said, grabbing the box of donuts they passed over after filling it up. “I got these.”

“Be back,” she mouthed, heading toward the door as she answered the call.

The bell chimed with her, the light wind slipping into the donut shop.

I lifted the box that felt warm through the cardboard, and waited at the end of the counter for the lattes.

The line had gotten a little longer, people filing in from the streets outside.

“Which one is your favorite?” a soft voice suddenly addressed me, making me turn my head.

She had silky brown hair that looked expensive to upkeep, falling straight down her back.

There were even little braids woven into her hair and pinned out of her face.

Her blue eyes were bright even in this soft lighting.  

She was a little taller than me, but not by more than an inch, and she wore a chunky baby blue sweater with a pleated black skort.

I blinked. “Uh, probably the pumpkin-cream cheesecake,” I said, meeting her stare.

Her lips tilted up. “I haven’t been here before. I think I’ll try that,” she determined.

I glanced over when the barista slid two lattes toward me.

The brunette glanced back over, briefly telling the cashier that she wanted a pumpkin-cream cheesecake and a chai tea before tapping her card.

I heard the bells chime again, and I could feel the wind rush in as the door opened with more people walking in.

Sarai was outside, her lips spread in a smile like she was laughing.

“Big meeting?” the brunette addressed me again as she waited for her donut and tea, glancing down at the box of donuts.

“Just furniture shopping,” I said, glancing back at her. “Very high stakes.”

“Totally,” she nodded a few times.

I smiled slightly, “I’m Liberty.”

Her lips lifted higher, tilting her head. “Lia,” she said softly, earning a nod from me.

Lia glanced over when one of the workers slid her chai tea and donut across the counter.

Her nails were short and coated in a burgundy red, wearing a slim watch that looked expensive.

“Are you from here?” she asked curiously, turning to me with her tea in one hand and her coffee in another.

“Uh, I’m from California,” I said, tilting my head slightly. “But I’ve lived in Seattle for years.”

“Oh, cool,” she murmured, with a smile.

Her teeth were really straight.

“Are you from here?” I curiously asked, cradling the two lattes on top of the donut box as we shifted to the side out of everyone’s way. “Or visiting?” I said, realizing she said she had never been here before.

“I’m from the East Coast,” Lia said, her blue eyes meeting mine. “I moved here recently.”

“You’re going to love Seattle,” I determined, “At least if you love nature, rain, and coffee shops.”

“I do, I think,” Lia said, tilting her head slightly.

I briefly glanced over to the large bay window.

Sarai hovered just outside the door, clearly trying to get off the phone with her mom.

I raised the box slightly when Sarai’s stare met mine through the glass.

She smiled excitedly, holding up one finger.

One minute.

“Do you mind if I get your number?” Lia asked, snapping my attention away from Sarai standing outside. “I could use a new friend. I don’t know a lot about Seattle either.”

“Of course,” I didn’t hesitate to say, “We can also exchange Instagrams too.”

“Oh, I don’t have social media,” she murmured, setting her tea down on the nearby table to grab her phone.

“Must be relaxing,” I determined as she tapped on her phone.

Lia tilted her head, almost like she disagreed with my observation.

“Sure,” was all she said with a small smile, focusing on getting her contacts app pulled up.

Then I gave her my number and spelled my name for her so she could save it all.

“It was lovely meeting you, Liberty,” Lia said, reaching for her tea again.

“You too,” I said back, flashing her one more smile.

Then she turned on her heel, making my eyes dart down to her shiny black Hunter boots.

Lia left the café completely, passing by Sarai, who was finishing up her call.

I caved in and sat down at an empty table, deciding to dig into the donuts without Sarai, but I needed one desperately right now.

Sarai was back inside by the time I bit halfway through my second donut, sipping on my latte between bites.

She recited the phone call with her mom to me—apparently, she went to a pumpkin patch with Sarai’s dad, which turned out to be a haunted attraction.

The story was hilarious, given that her parents weren't expecting the haunted factor.

I could see why Sarai was laughing so hard outside.

“I made a new friend,” I murmured, taking another bite of the pumpkin-cream cheesecake donut.

Sarai smiled as she put her latte down. “I love to hear it.”

“She was nice. Her name is Lia, and her hair looks like it could be in a shampoo commercial or something,” I murmured, earning a soft chuckle from Sarai.

“Damn, she must have some really nice hair,” Sarai joked, reaching for one of the frosted donuts.

“Girl, I lowkey wanted to cut it off and steal it for myself,” I joked back, making Sarai laugh harder.

Then she reached for her hair, like she was clutching her pearls.

“Do I need to be worried about my hair?” she asked with a wide smile. “Should I wear a hair cap and a lock at all times?”

I laughed through my nose, “Shut up,” I chuckled harder, biting into my donut again.

Sarai laughed, her face nearly turning red from how amused she was by our conversation.

Somehow, her laughing that hard made me laugh even harder.

My stomach ached by the time we stopped, and I was officially done with fall donuts and lattes.

Then it was time to get back to work.

Next up was a bed, which required a mattress, a bed frame, and bedding.

We stepped back into the perfect weather, which wasn’t too cold or hot.

We ended up getting distracted at a lamp store, and then this vintage thrift store, where I picked up a few cute knick-knacks.

Then, finally, we focused on the main objective.

A bed.

The mattress part was easy.

We just went to a nearby mattress store, and I sat on a few before deciding on which one I liked.

Then the bed frame, I knew I wanted something black, maybe.

Clean lines and modern.

It really wasn’t that hard for us to find—only two stores, and I settled on one of the frames.

Next was bedding, which we ended up finding in the same store.

I liked the satin leopard print sheets with black fluffy covers.

It was perfect.

I felt really happy with how everything was coming along at this point, honestly.

The last major thing we needed was chairs for the kitchen island and a dining room table.

I wanted one with a bench, which was harder to find than I thought.

They had a lot of regular wood ones, but I wanted black with cushions.

By the time we found everything that fit my expectations and a bunch of kitchen necessities, it was close to four.

It was perfect because I had my car delivery, and also my couch was getting delivered by the evening.

Also, my mattress and frame, which I paid extra to get assembled.

Once we got back to our apartment building, we began unpacking everything we got.

Zion helped, and Jynx clung to my leg the entire time.

I glanced away from the plates I was drying, noticing my phone light up with a text from a number rather than a saved contact.

I was confused at first.

Then once I opened it, I remembered the earlier details of the day.

Specifically, the donut shop.

Hi, this is Lia.

That’s what her text said, very simple and to the point.

I typed back a brief hey, and asked if the pumpkin-cream cheesecake donut was to her liking.

Then I locked my phone and set it down on the counter.

Barely ten seconds passed by before it buzzed again.

But it was an email this time.

From fucking Kara Briggs.

This bitch.

I let out a deep sigh as I grabbed my phone again, opening the email to read.

It was just more details about the fellowship starting on Monday.

Orientation.

Badges.

Security forms.

NDAs.

Times and Places.

Even a dress code that I planned not to follow.

Sarai leaned her head on my shoulder and hummed. “Everything good?”

“Briggszilla emailed,” I mumbled, setting my phone down.

“Briggszilla?” Zion chuckled, placing another glass cup in the cabinet.

“Kara Briggs. Keep up,” I said, earning a few laughs from them. “You probably got an email too, Zi,” I sighed.

“Probably,” Zion said, grabbing another glass. “She must have no life if she’s emailing people after five on a Friday.”

“Might be us soon,” I joked, patting the plate dry. “She’s probably gonna have us there until our eyes can’t stay open and she has to staple our eyelids to our eyebrows.”

“I don’t think she’d even do that,” Zion determined, sliding another clean glass into the cabinet. “Probably just yell at us to wake up and finish our work.”

Sarai laughed as she turned off the sink. “Damn, you guys haven’t even met the woman yet.”

“Don’t need to. Already hate her,” I clarified, grabbing another plate to dry off.

“It’s the tone of her emails,” Zion said, scrunching up his nose as he reached for the clean plates now.

“And how she says best, Kara,” I mocked, curling up my top lip.

“Why doesn’t she say thank you or best regards?” Zion pointed out, earning a few nods.

“Briggszilla man,” I sighed dramatically.

Zion chuckled.

So did Sarai.

“Imagine she’s the sweetest person ever and brings cookies to work on Fridays,” Sarai said, but I could only shake my head.

“She brings extra paperwork on Fridays. That’s about it,” I joked, drying the last plate off.

I was joking, but also dreading every detail about Monday.

Briggszilla, sure.

But also the idea of even being under the roof of Levane.

Under the same roof as her.

We’ll be in the same building.

We’ll likely run into each other.

I don’t know what she wants.

Why she needed me and Zion specifically for this job.

It just goes to show that she’s the same as she always was.

She still moves people around like pawns.

Except, I’m not anyone’s pawn anymore.