Temporary Fix | 18+

17

My mouth opened to protest, but my sister quickly silenced me with a raise of her hands.

"You said yes," she sang the words, taunting me further as she pulled another piece from my closet.

"Well, I didn't know agreeing meant I'd have to leave the house." She ignored me, only moving back to the closet to find another dress for me to wear.

I looked over the selections; next to nothing. That meant a club or some form of party. Both of which I was in no mood for.

"Jaz..." It was moments like this where I wouldn't say I liked the little game we played. Why didn't I say no?

"Quinn, be serious. You're twenty-three and have not left the house in two weeks. I was enjoying your life, but now it's just sad." She rolls her eyes, looking at her choices, "You haven't been out with me in a while, and Robyn has sworn by this spot."

Her words made my eyes shift to the cardboard box settled against my wall. It was a week ago that the package arrived. I'd opened it and nearly fainted.

It was a 1984 three-colored half-tone print of a lake photographed by Cathy Sullivan herself. The hues of green and greys haunted me with the knowledge that the photograph was worth a whopping 2.8 million dollars.

There was a million-dollar piece sitting on my bedroom floor, and it was haunting me. The situation only worsened when Antony asked what was inside. I lied, something I was doing a lot more often since meeting Niccolò: the problem and the answer to everything wrong in my life.

The card with the image of a slice of strawberry shortcake was the only indication of who the piece of art was from. He'd bought an almost 3 million dollar photo and then disappeared.

I couldn't explain to Jazmine that the reason I'd been holed up inside was because I'd heard— a man I had no business being involved with— having sex, and I got jealous. Rightfully so, I believed. But on top of that, I'd been stressing. There was no text message from an unknown number, no calls— nothing, and I worried for a while that getting the photo was an accident. It was the reason I refused to take it out of the box.

I focused on the other part of her sentence instead. "Robyn is the worst person's word to take." I thought about Jazmine's best friend. The wildest woman I'd ever met. She was down for anything, and that in itself was frightening.

"Well, I don't want to go alone, and she's busy tonight. Please?" She turned to me, boring her big eyes into mine, and I threw my head back with a groan. I knew not going would probably leave her overthinking about what Robyn was busy with.

"Fine. But when I'm ready, I'm leaving." I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes to show her I was deadly serious.

She only grinned, and I knew she was not taking me seriously. "I love you."

"Yeah, of course you do." I ran a hand through my hair—well tried and groaned again when my fingers met thick knots. Jazmine left my room shortly after instructing me to hurry up, and I only rolled my eyes, heading to my shower. 

My shower was quick as I thought about having to detangle my hair. When I stepped out and assessed it in the mirror, a grimace found its way onto my face. A bird's nest was what sat on my head.

For the next half hour, I attempted to tame my curls and do light makeup. When I was satisfied, I stood and started prepping my skin. I lotioned my body, rubbing my signature Arabian oil into my skin before following up with my body butter infused with gold dust. I admired my leg propped up on my ottoman in my floor-length mirror.

The combination had my skin glowing, and my room was covered in notes of Jasmine, Saffron, and Ambergris.

Once I was done, I set my sights on the pieces on my bed. My eyes grazed over the purple dress Jazmine picked; it was too bright. I wasn't in the mood to wear anything bright, a seeing as though I wanted minimal attention on myself.