The Color of Her Lips

Chapter Nine

Ariana

I'm in the car with Sally. I picked her up at Holly's. She's been there for five days and she still won't talk to me.

"Sally, please," I beg her for the hundredth time. "Talk to me."

She keeps staring at the road ahead.

"I haven't even decided if I'm going." And it's true. I have the tickets but I'll pay them back if I decide not to go.

She laughs humorlessly. "Yes, but I know you are going."

I sigh. "I'm almost obligated to, Sally. It's a work thing. It's not a stupid party."

She rolls her eyes. "On Christmas Day, sure."

"Yes! Don't ask me why, I don't know!" I snap, and regret it right away. "Michael DeAngelis is going too."

"So?" She's a stubborn little bitch.

"It's important."

"I don't care."

I'm getting tired of her stubbornness. I'm the older sister, I make my own decisions and I'm the one running the business.

"Listen, I get it. I totally get that you don't want to be alone for Christmas, but I really have to go. I'm going, Sally. That's it."

She looks at me, stunned. Her brown eyes are full with anger. She reminds me so much of Mom right now. She has the same dark blonde hair and her same features, except she has Dad's eyes.

"You'll stay with Holly until I'm back, if she doesn't mind," I tell her.

"Of course she doesn't mind, unlike you," she bites back. "When are you supposed to leave?"

"In eight days, I think."

She takes her phone and starts texting someone. Probably Holly.

These are the moments I really miss my parents. If they were here, this wouldn't have happened.

• • •

Michael: Do you need a ride to the airport?

Me: I've got my own driver, but thank you.

The day of the departure has come. Sally's already at her friend's house, I dropped her there after dinner—she acts still cold around me.

The flight to the J.F.K. International Airport is at 7:18 a.m., so we have to be at the airport at least two hours earlier.

I'm taking one big luggage, even though I'm staying for just a week I have lots of expensive clothes with me, they need space.

I climb on the passenger seat of my black Mercedes and my driver of trust, Cooper, drives me to the airport.

When I arrive there I find Michael waiting outside. He's casually dressed, wearing a black sweatpants and a gray hoodie, his hair messy because he probably just got out of the bed.

He smiles and raises a hand in greetings.

"Thank you, Cooper. Don't drive my sister and her friend to dangerous places, I trust you," and I wink at him.

"Have a nice flight, Miss Quinn, and happy holidays!" he says, waving his hand as I walk toward Michael.

"Good...morning, I guess?" he says when I reach him.