Her eyes

Chapter 22

The gala was alright i guess, but everything faded in comparison to Layla. I was enthralled by everything she did, by every micro expression, every small sigh or giggle. And the way the lights bounced of her black hair and how she would shyly look down with a small smile every time I gave her a compliment. I loved her soft hands and her even softer skin.

I didn't want this night to end, because I was spending it in her presence. Layla was in the ladies room and I was chatting to some random man that had approached me about to talk my ear off about the British fall approaching, he had taken it upon himself to inform every American in the room about the importance of bringing an umbrella with you everywhere you went. I was nodding along out of politeness but truthfully was on the verge of falling asleep.

I thought about my talk with my mom, I had told her about Cherry's despicable behavior and she said she would get in contact with the company she worked for. If she got fired which I hoped she would I honestly couldn't care less, she should've thought about that before opening her poisonous mouth.

"Hey," thank god Layla had come to save me.

"Hi, we should check out some charities." I said to her. "Excuse us." I quickly made our escape guiding Layla with my hand on the small of her back.

The charity booths where placed in the back, each with a small high round table with their banner printed upon it. We went around each one listening to their cause, it was actually quite informative, the first charity advocated for stricter laws against child sexual abuse, fighting for the fact that majority of them never got convicted and if they did it was usually only for a few months.

The other was about upping funds for solicitors and their workplace. In other words donating so they could have nice coffee and softer chairs.

And the third one was about making law school more accessible for people with economic hardships.

"Well the second one is definitely out," I muttered to Layla. "I think we should donate to the first and second one, what do you think?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I mean their both really important. Maybe we could split the money between them?" She asked biting her lip uncertainly, her eyes skipping back and forth between both booths. I could tell that she was torn.

"Sure" I said pulling her along to the first booth. I pulled my checkbook out from the inside of my tux jacket and quickly scribbled down the details needed to donate. We did the same for the third booth, but instead of splitting the 900 something pounds in two, I donated £5000 each.

But that wasn't something I was planning on telling Layla, I knew she would feel responsible for me spending more, but it was for a good cause.

A herald entered the double doors and announced that dinner was ready and to follow him. People quickly started trickling out of the room.

Layla caught a hold of my wrist softly, " I just wanted to say that it was really nice what you did, I really hope the money can make a difference." She said her eyes darting between both of mine.

"Of course it's important, and I'm happy to do what I can." I intertwined our fingers. "Let's go have dinner, I'm starving."

She giggled "we literally just ate."

"That was just a snack babe" I shrugged off, if anything I was hungrier than I was when we arrived. I pulled her along out the doors and we followed the throng of people all making their way to the same place.

Once we found my parents seated at a round decorated table, I pulled Layla's chair out so she could sit next to my mom. And I took the seat between her and a lady in her mid forties.

After a while of my mother gushing over the peonies as she had called them the entrée arrived. Layla leaned in towards me and whispered "what's a French laundry salmon tartare cornet and why is the name so long, chef?" She said reading of the menu placed on each plate.

I chuckled and explained to her that it was usually a small cone filled with salmon tartare topped with roe and some dill.

"Wow, maybe you should try out for master chef, I'm sure you could even charm Gordon Ramsey with your wide knowledge of the culinary arts." She said pretending to be overly impressed.

"No thanks, I'm sure he'd call me a meat head and attempt to sear me on a grill or something along those lines." I laughed. I caught my mom looking at us with that proud face only mothers could make, and rolled my eyes sarcastically.

By the time the night was over, some lawyers had won some award, I was full and it was time to go home. We said goodbye to my parents and surprisingly my dad even gave Layla an awkward hug, that I'm sure my mother had convinced him of. But at least he wasn't looking at her with the same untrustworthy eyes he saved for everyone that wasn't family.

I drove Layla home, but I really didn't want to but she probably needed a break from me.

She turned to me and started with, "Thank you for tonight and for the dress and everything. I really did have an amazing time and your parents are wonderful."

"You don't have to lie, I don't think anyone would describe my father as wonderful." I chuckled,
"Thank you, Layla. And please don't mention the dress, you did me a service. If it wasn't for you I would've been rotting out of pure boredom."

Our eyes were connected and her body was facing me. For a millisecond her eyes darted down to my lips, my own eyes automatically found her full, perfectly symmetrical lips, her cupids bow well shap-she swallowed "I should probably go."

I awoke from my daze, "yeah, uh, yeah." I quickly got out and jogged to her side, I opened her door and helped her out. "Goodnight, Layla."

"Night, Archer." What seemed like in a split second she leaned up on her toes and pecked my cheek, before hurrying towards her gate.

And I was left staring after her wishing that I could've savored the feeling of her lips on my skin for a second longer.