The sweet aroma of beef hangs in the air when we walk into the kitchen. Hannah just made a delicious meal of rice, beef and vegetables for lunch. She immediately places the plates infront of us when we sit on the island. She also pours me a cold glass of orange juice. She knows I'm obsessed with orange juice."Smells delicious." I gush. "Thanks Hannah."She nods and smiles at me from a distance, standing next to a vase of red roses. I don't remember seeing those roses on the counter last night."Fancy flowers." I comment. "Did Damien get them?""Glad you like them." Vanessa smiles. "Consider them apology flowers. Sorry for the way my husband acted yesterday. He was a little tipsy and that was out of character. He is very sorry and embarrassed for his actions."Bullshit. I know Leo is not sorry. And I know he didn't want to send the flowers. The only reason he sent them is because Damien threatened him."You can ask your maid to excuse us now." Vanessa smiles at me, ignoring Hannah's
"Wanna know the small secret to success?"Miss Priscilla sinks in her couch, a cup of coffee clutched in her hand. She looks stunning in a floral shirt-dress with her long dark hair falling on her shoulders. She's effortlessly cool and stylish even at the young age of fifty-five. Her classes feel like a conversation with your bestie rather than an actual lecture. It's an online class but I feel like I'm on that white couch, sipping coffee with her."Networking." She smiles. "That's the little secret to success. It's the most crucial tool in this business. The most fundamental tool. If you are going to be dressing people, you need to know people. You need to go out there and meet people. You can have a tank of talent and read every fashion book and attend every class and pass every paper but it's all garbage if you don't have a network of people who trust your talent. A network of people who call the shots. A network of people who connect you to clients. A network of clients that trust
DAMIEN"Sophia?"She takes off her black boots and dumps them on the floor. She unzips her leather jacket and tosses it on the couch. Now she's just left with her baggy t-shirt and ripped jeans. She runs her fingers through her messy blonde hair as she walks towards me with a sly smile."Hey Twin." She pecks my cheek and falls on the seat. "Dinner smells delicious."She grabs a bowl and pours herself some rice and beef. She spits the gum on the floor and digs into her meal. From the look on her face, she's clearly impressed."Did you cook this?" She asks Dani, sitting directly opposite from her. "You are a wonderful wife.""Thanks but the cook made it.""Such a shame." She frowns. "Thought you're one of those traditional wives who would suck the floor for their man. Guess I was wrong about you.""What are you doing here, Soph?""I'm homeless." She smiles. "Hope you and your wife don't mind me crashing here for the next couple of months before I find a place.""You are homeless?" I rai
DANI"Tell me you don't believe that apology."Damien says as he dumps the dishes in the sink. Doing the dishes together is slowly becoming a routine that I enjoy a little too much."I don't believe that apology." I say. "I think Vanessa made her do it.""Those two are upto something." He says. "Sophia has never shown any interest in being my roommate. Even when I begged her to come live with me. She wouldn't budge. And now that Vanessa is our neighbour, she wants to come live with us? That's strange.""I think it was Vanessa that came up with the idea. That's why she made Sophia apologise. I don't know what she's trying to do but she's clearly obsessed with you." I pause. "I think I'll turn down the deal.""Why?""Because the deal might also be part of her plan." "Don't do that. Working with her will bring the two of you closer and you might figure out what she's upto.""Good point."The door swings open. Sophia storms in, dressed in her pink pajamas. I swear I see her roll her eyes
The breakfast table is quiet.We're having heavy breakfast but not as heavy as the tension on the table. Sophia has a little smirk on her face, her eyes playing ping-pong from Damien to me to Damien and then back to me.She bites on a sausage and clears her throat."Sleeping separately?" She shakes her head. "Don't know much about these kind of things but I know sèx is the glue to a marriage. When you take it off the table, you're screwed. It's sad that divorce is knocking on your door when you should be in the honeymoon phase."When Sophia stormed into our room so early in the morning and woke us up, Damien immediately kicked her out. That gave us enough time to cook up a lie as we got ourselves ready for work. Let's hope she buys it.I stretch my hand to Damien, smiling at him before I set my eyes on Sophia."We are still in the honeymoon phase." I pause. "Unfortunately, your brother is a workaholic. He's obsessed with working. Sometimes I feel like throwing his laptop over the wind
The door swings open.Lana walks in with a tray of roast chicken, pasta, vegetables and orange juice. I turn on the other side of the bed and pull the sheets over my head."I don't want to wake up!" I groan."You've slept all day, babe. It's almost 5.00pm. Atleast have something to eat.""I don't want food! I just want to die!""I put a little poison in your food." She smiles. "Just eat it and you'll die. Simple."I manage a smile as I sit up on the bed. Lana sets the tray in the middle and sits on the edge of the bed. I grab the glass of orange juice as she bites on the piece of chicken."How are you feeling?" She asks quietly with sympathy-filled eyes."I feel like shìt." I mutter. "I've slept the whole night and the whole day. My head is spinning. My stomach is rumbling. I'm starving but I don't have an appetite.""Your body lost a lot of blood." She says. "And you're under strong medication. You should feel that way. The only way you'll feel better is if you eat. And eat a lot."I
I wake up to the smell of pancakes.I stretch and drag myself from bed. I don't remember sleeping in this big clean t-shirt. And I don't remember how I ended up in bed. Wait...Damien was here last night. And he took me from the couch. And he carried me in his arms. And I puked all over him. That's all I remember. The rest of it is just blank.I storm out of the room. Lana is in the kitchen making pancakes. Maybe she has answers. Maybe she can tell me what exactly happened. Maybe she can tell me if Damien is mad at me. Or maybe she can tell me if I just made him up. Maybe he wasn't even here. Maybe I was too horny and my mind just made him up...My jaw drops when I push the door open.Damien is standing there, flipping pancakes. One piece of the puzzle is solved. Now I'm sure that he was here last night. He's wearing the same sweatpants. He's wearing the same t-shirt I puked allover. It's clean as fùck. No stain of vomit."You look like you've seen a dead corpse cooking." He chuckles.
The cab stops at a catholic church in a wealthy part of town.We put on our black hats as we walk towards the black gates, the black dresses almost touching the ground. The exterior and interiors of the church scream of elegance and extravagance. Marble pillars. Marble floors. Huge windows. 16ft oak doors. Just excessive. For a famous writer like Rooney Lane, I'm shocked that the rows of pews are mostly empty. The only people in attendance are close friends and family. His family really managed to keep the suìcide a secret.A priest is standing at the altar, conducting a mass. The countable people turn to glance at us when we make an entrance. Lana grabs my hand as we take a seat on one of the empty pews."The woman scowling at me," she whispers. "That's Rooney's mom. I bet she's not happy to see me here.""Maybe because we're not supposed to be here.""He was my fiancé!" She hisses. "I deserve to mourn him. I deserve to say goodbye to him. But most of all, I deserve answers!"A bunc