She hurriedly tossed her portfolio, planning notebook, iPad, and pens back into her bag, then opened her door and jumped out. At least it had stopped raining.
Her heels clicked along the sidewalk as she hurried to the cafe. She had to park down the street –– Hermosa Beach was an infamous nightmare when it came to parking –– and cross the street, but if she hustled, she’d make it.
Luckily, Hustle was Sabrina Meloy’s middle name.
Well, really, it was Marianne.
But it was Hustle in spirit. Or something.
She waited to cross the street, staring down at the murky, muddy puddles looming in front of her. She’d have to carefully step across them in order not to get her heels grungy with the dirt.
The cars came to a stop on either side of the crossing and she gave a small wave, then looking down the other side of the street to make sure they were still staying put.
Always better to double check.
She looked down, taking a large step to cross the puddle, when she heard a strange noise.
Her brain took a second to process: A bicycle chain, wheels spraying water, and a… yelp?
She glanced up just in time to get barreled over by an idiot on a bicycle. The front wheel ran over her foot, the handlebar smacked into her hip, and then the cyclist toppled right onto her.
She fell backwards, straight into the puddle. Her purse flew to an impressive height before landing on top of the pair.
“Oh my fucking god, I am so sorry,” the woman on top of her said.
Sabrina lay in the puddle with her eyes squeezed shut, taking stock of where her body hurt. She wiggled her fingers and toes. Nothing seemed broken. She couldn’t remember if she had hit her head, but it didn’t seem to hurt. Her pulse pounded in her temples, but that could also just be her bruised ego making itself known.
“Are you okay?” The woman said, and Sabrina felt a hand on her shoulder.
She cracked open one eye, her vision still a little blurry. “Uh, yeah, I think I’m okay,” she said, propping herself up on her palms and looking around, dazed in shock.
“I’m so sorry, I was running late, and then it started raining, and…” The cyclist continued.
Sabrina looked down, seeing the murky, muddy water pooled around her. It was all over her white dress. Her poor, vintage, white, ruined dress. The heel of her shoe lay beside her hand. Her shoes! For the love of dog, her shoes .
“I’ll absolutely pay for your hospital bills. Do you want me to call 911? Do you want me to call anyone for you? Can I drive you home? I live right around the block,” the cyclist continued.
“I don’t need an ambulance,” Sabrina started, wiggling her toes again. “I think.”
“You look like your elbows are scraped, but you’re not bleeding anywhere. Can you stand? Can I help you stand up?”
Sabrina realized others were talking, and saw a crowd forming around them. Someone had their phone out and seemed to be taking a picture. Sabrina looked up at the cyclist, then realized that she was looking straight into the face of Domino Rush.
Domino looked concerned and frightened.
“You? You crashed into me?” Sabrina asked in disbelief.
Domino blinked, then furrowed her brow. “Yes? Is this a trick question?”
Sabrina sighed. Of course Domino wouldn’t know who she was. “Sabrina Meloy. I’m your 11 o’clock,” she said.
Domino closed her eyes, looking as though she was in pain as she gingerly shook Sabrina’s hand. “Zoey’s going to kill me.”
“Ma’am, are you alright?” Someone beside her said. It was a male paramedic, kneeling down.
“I’m fine,” Sabrina said, then realized she had never checked on Domino. “Are you alright?” She asked, turning to the woman.
Domino gave her a strange look, as though she couldn’t understand why Sabrina would be checking on her at that moment.
“Ma’am, if we could just check you over,” the paramedic said, holding up a penlight to shine into her eyes.
“Can I get out of this puddle?” Sabrina asked, gesturing to the ground.
“Well, I’m nervous to move you, but you’re already sitting up. Do you think you can stand?” The paramedic asked.
“I don’t know,” Sabrina admitted.
“Here, let me help,” Domino said, tugging off what was left of her heels.
Sabrina stared down at her in surprise. Taking off another person’s shoes was a strangely intimate gesture.
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” she said, then stood up with the help of the paramedic. They limped her into the back of the ambulance to clean up. She glanced over her shoulder to see Domino sit down on the curb and hold her head in her hands.
An hour or so later, the paramedics gave her the okay to go after she refused to go to the hospital –– really, besides a bit of soreness in her hip, she was perfectly fine.
Domino was sitting on the curb beside her bicycle, adjusting something on the wheel with a hex wrench. Next to her was Sabrina’s purse, carefully tucked under a jacket to keep it from getting too wet. As if there was any saving it.
Sabrina awkwardly stepped up to where Domino was sitting. “You didn’t have to sit out here in the rain to wait for me or anything,” she said.
“Yeah, I did,” Domino said with confidence.
Sabrina crossed her arms over her chest, overcome with self-consciousness about her muddy dress.
“I’m really so sorry,” Domino said again. “If it makes you feel better, I got a ticket from a cop for it.”
Sabrina paused for a moment, considering. It did make her feel better, but at the same time, she didn't want to lose what could be a massive potential client.
“Was it an expensive ticket?” She said, finally.
Domino nodded, and if Sabrina was seeing correctly, it almost looked as though a tiny corner of her mouth wanted to quirk up in a grin.
“Anyway, let’s… reschedule,” Sabrina said, not wanting to accept the apology just yet as she reached to grab her bag. Her hair was a mess, she was barefoot, and her dress was ruined –– completely covered in mud.
She should just throw in the towel now.
She was very near tears and wanted to go home and have a glass of wine in the bathtub. Maybe an entire bottle of wine. Maybe she would just fill the entire bathtub with wine.
“My house is only a few blocks away from here. Let me at least give you something clean to wear home,” Domino said, her eyes widening as though she was begging for Sabrina to say yes.
“Oh, that’s… no, thank you,” Sabrina said, clearing her throat. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to untangle it.
“Please, I insist,” Domino said, reaching to take her hand. “Please. Let me please make this right. If you’re still game for working together, I don’t want us to start off on this foot.”
Sabrina glanced back at her car, then to Domino. The thought of wearing her dirty dress home was making her cringe.
She both desperately did and did not want to go with Domino.
She didn’t want to offend a potential client –– since Domino had thrown her the bone of still acting as though she might work with her –– but at the same time, she still had enough self-respect to realize that the potential client had just nearly killed her.
But the gross, muddy dress…
She tightened her grip on her handbag and tried to unclench her jaw. “Fine.”
Chapter Three
Domino
Domino sat at the dining table, waiting for Sabrina to come back down the stairs after getting changed and showered.
Her phone dinged with a text notification.
Zoey: How did it go?! Isn’t she fantastic? She’ll have that place sparking joy in no time.
Guilt squeezed Domino’s chest.
Domino: Yeah, we really hit it off.
She smirked as she typed it out. It wasn’t a total lie.
She had been running late for the meeting, and thinking that driving
two blocks to spend ten minutes finding a parking spot was a dumb idea, she had grabbed her bike.
Immediately before… the incident… she had realized she had forgotten her phone and wallet. She was in the process of panicking and checking her jacket pocket and jeans, then as she looked up, Sabrina was directly in front of her.
The poor woman had really softened Domino’s fall. She hadn’t even flipped over the handlebars. She had just kind of… landed on top of her.
Her bike wheel was crooked from the collision, but other than that, she was uninjured and not any worse for wear.
She stared at the pile of clothes on her dining table. Then, she noticed the stack of empty cardboard boxes cluttering the corner of the room. An entirely random assortment of mail, knick knacks, and papers covered every surface she could see.
The couch had two bass guitars on it.
She had never noticed just how bad her house had gotten.
An image flashed in her mind of the TV show Hoarders . She was going to become one of those women who had ceiling-high stacks of newspapers and think that everything was just fine.
Were several cats in her future? Was this the first step to becoming a cat lady?
She liked cats, but she had never considered that as a life path for herself before.
She was going to die alone, among cats and newspapers.
She was shaken from her thoughts and turmoil as Sabrina walked down the steps. She was wearing sweatpants and an oversized, long-sleeved t-shirt that fit tightly over her chest.
Without the mud in her hair and the scowl on her face, Sabrina Meloy looked surprisingly beautiful.
She also looked unsurprisingly bewildered by Domino’s home.
“I suppose you’ve got your work cut out for you here,” Domino said, standing and shoving her hands in her pockets.
Sabrina walked into the kitchen and opened the oven. “Well, she wasn’t lying. There are shoes in there.”
Domino cleared her throat. “Yeah, I just… you know, with touring, and then with writing… I just…” Her voice trailed off lamely. The home was past the point of excuses.
“I think what surprises me the most is the lack of anything that screams that this is your home,” Sabrina said, looking around as though she was taking mental pictures of everything.
“What do you mean? All of my stuff is here,” Domino said, gesturing to the pile of clothes on her dining table.
“Yeah, but those could be anyone’s clothes. What makes this your home versus, say, Zoey’s home? Or my home?” Sabrina said.
“Well, do you store boots in your oven?” Domino asked, crossing her arms and raising a brow.
Sabrina paused, blinking at her. “You know, I can’t argue with that.”
Domino grinned, sweeping an arm across the room as though she was Vanna White. “Uniquely my own,” she said.
Sabrina narrowed her eyes, pressing her lips together in thought. “Not totally what I mean,” she said.
Domino had the feeling that Sabrina just realized it wasn’t going to be as easy as she might have thought.
“Let’s try a different angle. What do you love about your home?” Sabrina said, sitting down on a chair at the table.
Domino looked around. “Uh,” she stalled, raking a hand through the back of her hair. She sighed. “I don’t… I don’t really know. What do people usually say for that?”
“You know, for being an extremely talented lyricist, you’re really struggling with words here,” Sabrina said.
“Hey, thanks,” Domino said with a grin. “You think I’m talented.”
“That’s the part you…” Sabrina said, taking a deep breath as her voice trailed off. “Okay. Let’s start small. You own a home.”
Domino nodded, secretly growing more and more amused as Sabrina grew less and less patient.
“Why do you own a home? Why not live with your sister? Or your parents? Or your other bandmates? Or your gir–– or anyone else?” Sabrina said, taking a notebook out of the bag she had propped on a dining chair beside her.
Domino grinned, watching as Sabrina began to blush. Was it just because Domino felt intense guilt about nearly running her over or was Sabrina extremely cute as she got flustered?
“Right. My own place. I own it because…” Domino pondered the question. She owned it because Billie owned a house and Domino needed her own place, where she could relax and unwind after tours, or have a space where she could write, or have friends gather.
She glanced around the dining room, which opened into the living room and kitchen. The open-concept hadn’t been a huge selling point when she had bought the place, but now, she absolutely loved how she could be grabbing things from the kitchen but still be in the middle of the action, or that she could fit all of her friends in the living room to watch movies or play board games or just sit around and drink and talk.
Sabrina watched her patiently, jotting down notes in her book.
“I needed my own place,” Domino said, shrugging.
Sabrina closed one eye in thought, scrunching up her nose. “Is that all?”
“I thought you just organized my closet and stuff,” Domino said, tilting her head. “What’s with the interior design chat?”
“Well, the first step to an organized home is to figure out exactly why you need organization,” Sabrina said.
“Because my boots are in the oven?” Domino joked.
Sabrina took a long, deep breath. “Do you trust me?”
Domino blinked, then raised a brow skeptically. “Why do you ask?”
And why did she have the feeling that whatever Sabrina said next was going to be slightly terrifying?
“Well, you seem like maybe you need a bit of… guidance,” Sabrina said, frowning in thought. “So why don’t we make a deal? I don’t sue you for running me down like a madwoman earlier, and I get to do whatever I want to organize this place? No space is off limits. And after, I get to use whatever I want for my portfolio.”
Domino laughed in surprise. She was rarely surprised, but Sabrina seemed to be just the woman to throw her off her game.
“Sue me?” Domino repeated, trying to wrap her head around the idea. Something in Sabrina’s wry smile made Dom think the woman was joking, but she couldn’t quite tell.
“Paramedic bills, dry cleaning bills, my shoe was broken, I missed an important client meeting,” Sabrina said, tapping the tip of each of her fingers as she continued. “Not to mention major emotional distress. How am I ever going to cross safely at a crosswalk again?”
There was something very sly about this Sabrina woman. Domino felt as though she never quite knew what was going to come out of her mouth next. The second that Domino thought she had a good read on Sabrina, something completely out of the blue came out of the woman’s mouth.
And Domino was intrigued by it.
“I’ll pay for it all, I already said that I would,” Domino said.
“Well, how about you let me make a project out of your house, instead? And I get to blog about the whole thing?” Sabrina asked. “And then I will be able to move on from the tragedy earlier today.”
“You’re really the type to make the most out of a bad situation, aren’t you?” Domino asked, grinning. “Your guilt trip is incredible. Catholic mother?”
“Catholic and Puerto Rican,” Sabrina said with a grin.
Domino grinned wider. Who was this woman? “Show me what you’ve done first. I know Zoey trusts you, but Zoey also just got me into a huge mess with Billie, so I’m a little gun-shy.”
Sabrina paused for a moment. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Zoey is good people.” She grabbed an iPad out of her bag and set it on the table in front of Domino.
Sabrina opened up a portfolio app, and Domino was surprised by Sabrina’s immediate attention to detail. “You’re like a house elf with a label maker,” she remarked.
Photograph after photograph showed carefully labeled shelves, meticulously placed clear bins, and picture-perfe
ct stacks of shoes, clothes, dishes, food... Were those dolls?
Sabrina cleared her throat and swiped past the dolls quickly.
“Okay, so you know how to put things away,” Domino said, relaxing back into the chair she was sitting in, slinging an arm over the back. “But are you going to make me throw a bunch of stuff away?”
Sabrina shrugged. “I don’t care if your style is minimalism or maximalism.”
“Is maximalism a thing?” Domino asked, looking around her home.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Sabrina said with a laugh.
“Well, I don’t want to get sued and you know your way around a sock drawer, so,” Domino said, holding out her hand to shake. “We have a deal.”
Sabrina’s eyes twinkled with what seemed to be excitement and, if Domino was reading it right, a bit of mischief. She almost expected the woman do steeple her fingers together like a cartoon villain.
“So, where do you — uh, we — start?” Domino said, completely unsure of herself for second time that day.
Sabrina had a way about her that made Domino nervous, relaxed, and curious at the same time. Domino usually had a good read on people — at least, as far as she cared to — but Sabrina was constantly surprising her.
And that made Domino want to get to know what made Sabrina Meloy tick all the more.
Domino sat on the patio, staring out toward the ocean. Her keyboard stand sat mockingly before her, and she took a deep breath to resist slamming her hands down on the keys. She scribbled out the newest line in her notebook.
Everything she wrote was awful. It was all garbage.
She raked a hand through her hair and leaned back.
Her phone rang. It was a welcome distraction from the torture of trying to write.
"Saved by the bell," she murmured before flipping it over to see who was calling.
Not exactly saving her from torture. It was her sister, Billie.
She cleared her throat and pressed the green button, holding it up to her ear. "Hey, everything okay?" She asked. Billie rarely called her in the last month, so when she did, Domino could only assume that something was terribly wrong.
Bewilder (The Kaleidoscope Album Book 2) Page 2
