Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed parts 1 and 2. I sincerely hope this was worth the wait.
***
I walked awkwardly beside Beth and Elle, trying to exude the casual demeanor of a grad student looking forward to an informal drink with her advisor and her advisor's illustrious wife.
Thanks for suggesting this, Elle, it's really great to finally meet you, I'm a huge fan of your work and I am definitely not fucking your wife,
I practiced in my head, suppressing a bitter laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
I had no idea how I was going to survive this drink, or why I had agreed to it. I searched for an opportunity to catch Beth's attention, to ask her how I was supposed to navigate this, but she and Elle were arm-in-arm, huddled together against the evening chill. I sighed, pulling my jacket tight to my body and resigning myself to a painfully awkward evening.
"I promise we're not leading you astray, Rosa" Elle said lightly, breaking the silence. We had taken a series of unlikely turns down winding side-streets, and though I knew we weren't far from campus, the surroundings were completely unfamiliar to me. "There's a real hidden gem of a bar down here. Beth and I joke about it being a shady money-laundering front because it's in such a weird place, but the wine is
magnificent
."
I nodded and smiled back, slightly lost for words. Elle seemed so relaxed. My earlier suspicions about her knowing about me and Beth were rapidly evaporating. There was no way, I thought, she could know
and
be this casually pleasant.
By the time we reached our destination, I was shivering. I had opted for a blazer instead of my coat in the interest of style, expecting to bundle into a cab home at the end of the evening, so had not thought to prepare for the cold. The bar was unassuming from the outside, but surprisingly pleasant indoors, all exposed brick and warm lights. A few patrons sat at the bar, talking animatedly to the owner in Italian, and a few of the tables were occupied by couples, but on the whole the place was quiet. Elle greeted the owner in Italian (because
of course
she spoke Italian), and led the way over to a quiet booth in an isolated corner. I sank into the soft brown leather seat, grateful to finally be indoors, but winced as I put weight on my sore ass. I could have sworn I saw Beth smirk.
The two sat on either side of me, though the table was small enough that their legs still touched under the table - it was like they couldn't bear not to be touching for any length of time. Elle spotted me shivering and reached out to rub my arm.
"It's bitter out there, isn't it? We'll get a bottle of the barolo, it will warm you up in no time." She was treating me like an old friend, and all I could do was smile back nervously and hope she would get up to order, giving me a second alone with Beth.
Not a moment later, the owner made his way out from behind the bar and headed over, greeting the three of us warmly and placing a wine-list on the table. Elle ordered without looking, though a glimpse of the prices sent a chill down my spine. I lived off free faculty wine and cheap cocktails from sticky bars - a bottle from here felt eye-wateringly expensive to me.
"What did you make of Pembroke's talk?" I asked hastily, eager to distract myself from the prospect of the impending check.
Elle and Beth exchanged a quick glance and then broke into a laugh in unison, perfectly in tune. I felt, suddenly, as though I was intruding on a private domestic moment.
"I think that about sums it up," Beth replied at last. "How about you?"
"I think that's charitable," I responded, emboldened by their clear lack of respect for the department chair. "I would have gone with an eye-roll, myself." I got a hearty chuckle from them both.
"I've heard a lot about that sense of humor," Elle remarked, fixing me in an icy stare. I was mercifully spared having to respond by the arrival of the wine, which she tasted and approved with a gracious nod. I took the opportunity to smile at the waiter instead, and then turned my attention to the large glass, swirling my wine pensively and performing great concentration as I tasted. Anything to avoid thinking too hard about that
look
on Elle's perfectly sculpted face.
"That's incredible," I finally said, nodding at the wine before me.
"A woman of excellent taste," Elle replied smoothly. "So is Beth." There was that look again - that glint, curious and amused, a cat toying with its prey. I stiffened, and felt the soft brush of a hand on my stockinged thigh. Beth's hand. I turned to her, but her eyes were on Elle, even as she caressed my leg through the thin fabric.
"Elle, be nice," Beth intoned, a joking edge to her voice.
The sensation of Beth's skin through the thin fabric of my stocking had reawakened the wild arousal from that afternoon. Even as my mind raced to wrap itself around my situation, I felt a desperate urge to move closer to Beth, to kiss her here and now, regardless of Elle's unnerving presence. I suppressed the urge and took a long sip of my wine instead, hoping to conceal the redness creeping into my cheeks.
"Oh, I'm
always
nice," Elle replied, her tone a mock-innocence with a dangerous edge. Then her hand was by my face, tenderly brushing away a stray curl. My heart was thudding so hard I was sure she could hear it. Elle's thumb grazed against my cheek. "Are you okay, Rosa? You're blushing quite furiously."
I opened my mouth to reply but no words came out. After a brief pause, Elle continued, toying with a strand of my hair as she spoke.
"I know my wife's hand is on your leg right now, but that seems like nothing compared to what she did to you this afternoon," Elle's voice was low and quiet, but authoritative. My jaw dropped and I whipped round to look at Beth, whose hand gave my thigh a gentle squeeze.
