The whiskey was aged to absolute perfection. Like a girl blossoming into a beautiful, confident woman, it only got more enticing as the years went by. At that moment, Paloma couldn't imagine doing anything else in the world than what she was right then and there—stretched out on her couch, a savory glass of liquor in one hand and a cheap, fast-food burger in the other.

"Had you not come bearing treats, I wouldn't have let you in." Paloma hummed after indulging in yet another scrumptious sip. "You know how much I hate drop-ins."

The threat earned her a dismissive wave of a manicured hand. "Yet, somehow, I always manage to weasel my way in." Broadening the sly grin on her lips, Ava lazily twisted a free hand deep into her roots until it was lost in the thick forest of her mahogany hair. She batted her emerald eyes, accentuating the flawless mascara that clung to her long lashes as the alcohol washed her over in a gloriously sedated fashion.

"But I really should get home. I have an ungodly amount of work to do." With about as much speed and enthusiasm as a sloth, Ava planted her feet on the floor; having every intention of leaving the loveseat adjacent to the brunette. But she just couldn't bring herself to rise. "Screw it. It can wait 'till tomorrow."

Paloma raised her glass in agreeance. "You need to take a breather. I mean, what the hell are your minions doing these days, anyway? Your department's working circles around mine, making us look bad."

Ava's laugh was soft and light. "Your department's super popular, too. Nowhere near the slums. But you guys probably could step up your game a bit in production and quality. If it was a contest, we'd be winning for sure." A decorated pillow came flying her way. She giggled, sticking her tongue out at Paloma—the unapologetic assailant.

The brunette sat up, relinquishing her glass to the coffee table. "If I was running my department, our numbers would be through the fucking roof." Her forehead crinkled in frustration. "It's been three years and this is, what, the fourth time now that they've passed me up for the job? And they give it to Claudette, of all people? She's a total asshole and has no clue how to run a dishwasher, let alone a department. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the extra work can be killer, I commend you for that, but I'd kill to be in your position right now."

"Suddenly you're a cosmetology expert?" Ava teased.

"Okay, maybe not your actual position, but you know what I mean," grumbled Paloma. "What happened today, it's shit like that that's pushing me to move on."

Ava's eyes all but sprang free of their sockets. "You can't leave! You're the only thing that actually makes work bearable. Our breaks, the insanely boring interdepartmental meetings, that walk from my department to yours to get to the good coffee—they're pretty much the only reasons I bother to get out of bed in the morning!"

"Can't say I can blame you because, really, my presence is adored by many." Paloma's smirk dissolved just as quick as it formed. "But, sometimes, I feel like I can't see a future for myself there anymore. Admittedly, my articles have gotten a lot more attention these days because, what do you know, some people think I'm a great writer."

"I'm one of those people, okay?" Ava soothed. "You're amazing; never think otherwise."

"I appreciate that, Ava, I do. But if those in power don't think so then..." She shrugged, not masking her bitter chuckle. "It doesn't mean shit. If anything, it reiterates that I'm stuck. Indefinitely remaining one of the many, disposable idiots in my department that feed themselves a crap story about how they'll somehow, 'miraculously' claw their way to the top."

Ava looked at her in horror. "So, that's it? You're just gonna quit?"

Paloma grabbed the whiskey, clinging to it like it was made of gold, and gave herself a generous refill. "...Can't."

The other women tried to hide her relief, but she strongly doubted her capabilities. Lucky for her, Paloma moved on all the same.

"Wish I had the balls to walk out a few months back, but it's too late now. I've got my sister to think about. If the pay wasn't decent, I'd be gone for sure, but I'm not gonna lie, it is." She tossed her head back, relishing the alcohol then grinning. "You know me. Occasionally, I get dramatic when I drink."

"I think 'depressed' is a more fitting term for you when copious amounts of alcohol is involved."

"Anyway, I can't afford to be without a steady income, especially since I need a bigger place for us as soon as possible. So, the magazine's got their hooks in me...for now, at least."

Ava accepted the response with reluctance. "I don't know if you were hoping I was too dim to notice, but before the other day, you never once mentioned you had a sister; let alone one that's nearly half our age. And now she's here? Where is this kid?"

"She's asleep." The brunette chuckled. "So, keep your voice down."

"It's Saturday, not even midnight, and you mean to tell me a fifteen-year-old is already tucked away in bed? Are you sure you guys are related?"

Paloma raised her shoulders one good time. "She's had a rough go these past few years. Plus, she just started at a new school because they wouldn't let her go back to the old one since it's technically not in this district." She grimaced. "There's just been a lot of change lately; it's worn her out. And...I really don't think she trusts me, which is weird to admit."

"Can't blame her though, right? I mean, when's the last time you saw her?"

The brunette brought her glass to her lips and mumbled, "It's been a minute." She cleared her throat, her eyes softening. "But I finally got around to getting her a cellphone and I'm pretty sure that got me a lot of brownie points." Paloma grinned bashfully. "She's been on that thing night and day, but, honestly, I don't mind. It's loosened her up a bit, so I'm game."

"And here I thought you hadn't a maternal bone in your body," Ava cooed. "Just where have you been hiding this soft side of yours?"

Rolling her eyes, Paloma said, "Enough about my stuff. What's new with you and Epiphany?"

Ava scoffed. "There's absolutely nothing new with me and Epiphany."

Paloma barred her teeth. "Don't tell me you've been self-sabotaging again." Ava studied her nails, prompting a growl out of Paloma. "You find something wrong with absolutely every woman you date."

"So do you! Women, men—whoever."

"Not true," Paloma fired back. "Some, I date. Others I have...arrangements with. That doesn't count. Either way, I'm getting somewhere with someone, so I'm not the topic of discussion here."

That got Ava's attention. "Getting somewhere with who?"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately? I've never struggled in the dating scene but you could land anyone on this planet by merely snapping your fingers. But, for whatever reason, you refuse to utilize your God-given gift." Paloma's bewilderment went on when Ava failed to acknowledge her. "Epiphany was smokin' hot. Hell, if you won't cherish her, I will."

"So, we're swapping women now?"

"If you keep idiotically turning away these once-in-a-lifetime women, yeah. We'll start."

"This is coming from the very person who, not twenty seconds ago, insisted that she was 'getting somewhere' with someone."

Paloma snickered, her head moving into a small nod. "...I am. Epiphany's someone else's blessing now, I guess."

"What's his name again? Martin? No, no...Melvin."

"Michael, asshole." Paloma teetered. "Anyway, yeah. Things are getting a little more serious these days. We've been toying with the idea of being monogamous, but—"

"'Monogamous'?" Ava stifled a laughed. "I didn't know that term was even in your vocabulary and now you're considering practicing such a thing?"

The brunette's gasp was partially fraudulent. "Don't make it out like I'm some cheap slut. I settle. I just don't settle for absolutely anyone that throws me a glance. But, Michael..." She smiled warmly, getting lost in her thoughts. "He's the real deal. Only thing is—"

"Still not puttin' out?"

Paloma all but crushed her glass using nothing more than her left hand. "No! I can't figure out what it is! At his apartment, I think we might but he stops me. Every...single...time. Same thing back here. I mean, at first, I thought he might not be all that attracted to me but..." She chuckled, an arrogant simper climbing her lips. "Come on. Plus, he has no problem making out or doing other stuff just not...sex."

"Try asking him?"

"Well...no. But I've been trying to focus more on the other aspects of our relationship, lately, just in case things really do get serious. So, it's probably for the best. For now."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I've had about all the 'relationship talk' I can handle." Ava grabbed the whiskey, pouring more for each of them. "Let's drink!"

As if wanting to get in on the mini party, Quinn meandered out of the bedroom. She slipped into the kitchen, emerging only when she got her hands on a bottle of water. Her glasses scratched away at her forehead once her fists sought refuge at her eyes.

Feverishly, she rubbed away at them before they could strain any further against the bright overhead light. The second they focused, she stopped dead in her tracks; seeing Paloma and a woman who appeared to be about her sister's age staring straight back at her.

The brunette discretely hastened towards the whiskey, moving it from the table to the floor in a desperate attempt to conceal the liquor. Wincing, she stood. "Sorry, kiddo. We wake you?"

"Nope." Quinn raised her bottle. "Just thirsty, that's all."

Paloma frowned, taking in the somewhat panicked look in the girl's eyes; the same look she had every night when she'd awake from her slumber in an abrupt fit. Still, Paloma nodded, opting to shelve the conversation for another time; granted that Quinn would actually shed some light on what it was that routinely terrorized her in the dead of night.

Ava smiled wide and bright as she approached the teenager, initiating a polite handshake. "You must be Quinn."

"Shit, right. Sorry." Paloma shook her head and gestured back and forth between the two. "Quinn, this is Ava. She's a friend of mine."

Quinn accepted Ava's hand, giving the woman a once over. Like Paloma, Ava was just under six feet tall. Quinn would even go as far as to say that she slightly surpassed the brunette. She figured the women likely even managed to make trees feel inadequate in their presence when they passed them by, broadcasting their long legs and towering stature.

"I'll let you get back to it." Quinn threw Ava an over-the-shoulder glance as she made her way back to the bedroom. "Nice to meet you."

Paloma followed Ava's lead by settling back down in their respective seats. When she caught Ava grinning to herself, a curious smile of her very own arose.

"What?"

"Take away the glasses, darken her hair, give her about seven inches, deepen her voice just a bit—she's you."

"...Think so?"

"For sure."

Paloma mindlessly tugged away at the packing paper surrounding her burger. "Last time I saw her, her voice was high enough to shatter glass, even at the age of twelve. God, it used to drive me insane sometimes." She laughed softly. "Now, she almost sounds like a grown woman. It's weird."

"Consider yourself lucky. I've always wanted a little sister; especially someone her age. Giving advice, makeovers, being bossy by birthright."

"Now, that perk's my favorite by a long shot."

"Plus, there'd still be plenty of time to morph her into an exact replica of me."

Paloma leaned back in her chair and smirked. "Well, maybe if you're really nice to me, I'll let her spend the night at your place a couple times a week."

"I'm not often one to beat a dead horse but, screw it, I'm curious. Why haven't you mentioned her before now?"

"Does it matter?" Paloma smoothed the minuscule hairs on the back of her neck. "She's here now."

"Hell yeah, it matters," Ava spat back. "I'm beginning to notice a pattern."

Paloma swirled her drink around, entrancing herself at the sight of the alcohol lightly staining the glass. "Yeah, and what's that?"

"You never tell me anything. I spill my guts about my family, work, love life—"

"Or lack thereof," Paloma interrupted.

"—and it's always like pulling teeth to get you to return the favor."

"I tell you more than most," she defended.

"Which is still very little. We've been friends for three years, Paloma. If I haven't earned the right to know these things by now, then I'm pretty sure I never will."

"Okay," huffed Paloma. "Jesus."

Ava made a point to dial back her glower. "I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass; I'm just saying. Sometimes, it feels like I don't even know you; not anything real, at least, which sucks because I consider you to be my best friend, you know?"

"I forgot...you get sappy when you drink." Paloma allowed herself to topple over at the hands of Ava's not-so-gentle push.

"Be serious," the mahogany-haired woman demanded.

"Alright, alright." Paloma exhaled softly. "...I hear you."

"Fine. Put your money where your mouth is. You know a disproportionate amount of stuff about me and I'm just now realizing, I don't know shit about you. That changes now." Ava filled Paloma's glass for the millionth time that night. "Only way to do this is to get you hammered. You're a lightweight compared to me. You'll talk."

Paloma shook her head, amused. "Nice try, but I am not getting wasted with my little sister around."

"Moderately buzzed, then." Ava sneakily pushed the glass closer to the brunette. "Drink up."

Paloma did as she was told, immediately chasing away the burn in her throat by throwing her head back in a wave of laughter.