If she didn't care about the earth or money at all, that'd definitely be a lifestyle she could adopt.
That weekend had been... eventful...
Julia had convinced her to go out to the new gay club that had just opened in WeHo. Typically, Domino ensured that she'd get paid for club appearances, but she knew one of the owner's, so she thought nothing of it.
She knew there'd be trouble the moment she was Sabrina in line wearing that skin-tight, tiny dress.
Something shifted inside of her, as though she only wanted to be near Sabrina, like a moth to a flame. She felt that way about any conquest, but with Sabrina, it felt different. She felt jealous seeing Sabrina with that tall, gorgeous woman, and kept an eye on the pair through the entire night. Reading the pair as platonic, she went to make a move, but then she saw how drunk Sabrina truly was.
Sabrina had always stuck her as the type to keep it together. Why had she been so messy at the bar, then?
Something else shifted inside Domino –– a need to protect Sabrina. The lesbian scene in LA could be downright wolfish. She didn't want anything to happen to Sabrina, and the more vulnerable she realized the woman was, the more she wanted to just fireman-carry her out of danger.
Ugh, like some kind of caveman.
Domino was never the responsible one. She had channeled Billie all evening, especially when Sabrina had very sloppily tried to make a move on her. Normally, Domino didn't think twice about sleeping with women when they were a little tipsy, but Sabrina was so far beyond consent...
She grimaced, remembering how she had kissed Sabrina's shoulder. Had she crossed the line? Had Sabrina even remembered that?
The doorbell rang, sending a jolt of surprise through her body. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. When was the last time she had been so nervous?
She crossed the great room and opened the front door. Sabrina looked incredibly put together in a navy blue blazer, with matching wide leg trousers and a crisp cotton blouse beneath.
"Good morning, Domino," she said, as though she hadn't spent the night snoring on Domino's couch less than 36 hours before.
"Good morning, Sabrina," Domino said, taking a step backwards.
"I thought today I'd take some measurements and come up with a plan for your home," Sabrina said, stepping into the house past her. Her block heels made a satisfying click on the hardwood.
"Sure," Domino said, forcing a casual air.
"I do just want to say one thing," Sabrina said, clearing her throat. "I don't remember a single thing from Saturday night, so I'd rather we just put that completely behind us and pretend as if it didn't happen."
Domino blinked, leaning against the entry archway. "No problem," she said. "Consider it completely forgotten." The lie felt hollow and metallic in her mouth. She didn't believe that Sabrina didn't remember a single second of it, considering her stiff posture and forced-professional air.
"Thank you. And thank you for these," Sabrina said, handing her a canvas bag of the pajamas she had lent her the other night, but also the sweatpants she had borrowed after her other dress was ruined.
"Oh, yeah," Domino said awkwardly, taking the bag. "No worries. I think your shoe is still in my car, though." She couldn't help herself.
Sabrina's eye twitched, but she didn't say anything more. She simply nodded, then turned on her heel. She set her bag down on the dining table and pulled out a notepad and measuring tape.
"Don't mind me. You just do whatever you need to do," Sabrina said. She held a silver pen that had a giant fake diamond on the end. Who was this woman?
Domino shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling very much in the way.
She glanced around the room, her eyes settling on the acoustic guitar that she had written most of The Shrikes' first album, Heart's Content with. She reached for it, the weight and feel of it a comforting presence.
Domino retreated upstairs with her guitar, wanting to be out of Sabrina's way. She sat down on the bench at the end of her bed, hearing the sounds of cupboards being opened and closed downstairs, along with Sabrina's heels tapping across the floor.
"I hear your echoes in the hall." The line popped into her head, along with the eight beats of melody to accompany it.
She grabbed her phone out of her pocket to make a quick voice recording of it, the guitar melody wrapping around the words in her head. Adrenaline rose within her chest. She hadn't written in so long, she had almost forgotten the rush of a new song taking over her thoughts.
They always came to her that way –– sudden, bits of line that she then braided into a melody with the music beneath it. She longed for her keyboard, but it was downstairs and there was no way she was risking the song escaping her as she went for it.
She took her voice recorder and clumsily sang the notes of the keyboard part.
As the song grew, she longed for Billie to be sitting beside her, adding and weaving her own bits into the song.
But Billie was off in Telluride with her girlfriend, Vero, finishing up the recording of Vero's album.
At the thought, the energy of the song melted away. She was close to finishing a first draft of it, but now when she played the recordings back, the ideas to build off of those recordings were gone.
Nevertheless, she had about a half hour of writing, which was a win for the moment, considering it was more than the past six months combined.
She lay back in the bed, closing her eyes, willing the magic to come back to her.
A gentle tapping sound broke into her thoughts. "Domino?" Sabrina's soft voice came through the closed bedroom door.
"Come on in, you're not interrupting," she called out, propping herself up on her elbows. She felt groggy, as if she had just woken up.
The door opened and Sabrina stood at the doorway, her notebook in hand. "Mind if I look in your closet and bathroom?" She asked. "It's the last part."
"Sure," Domino said, rubbing her eyes.
Sabrina walked past her and stood at the bathroom entrance, taking pictures on her phone of the room. She scribbled in her notebook and from that angle, Domino could see that she was also sketching ideas as she walked through the small room, kneeling and looking in cabinets.
"Do you have some kind of system for all this chaos?" Sabrina asked, kneeling down in front of the cabinet that held all of her hair products.
"Sure do," Domino lied.
"For someone with short hair, you have such a hilarious amount of product," Sabrina said, and Domino could see her rifling through the wax, clay, spray, and other assorted things that made her hair look messy on purpose.
"I use every single one," Domino lied again.
"Sure, you do," Sabrina said, snorting. She closed the cupboard door and stood, walking out of the room and into Domino's walk-in closet.
"Leapin' lizards, I've never seen anything like this," Sabrina called out from the closet.
Domino grinned at the curse. "I'm one of a kind," she teased.
"You have like fifty pairs of the black jeans," Sabrina said, her voice muffled.
Domino stood, walking to the closet door. "You never know," she said, crossing her arms.
"You never know? What are you preparing for –– the end of black denim dye?" Sabrina said, shaking her head with a smirk.
"Well, they're different washes," Domino said with a dramatic exhale. "And different levels of distress. Some are to be dressed up, and some are casual."
Sabrina held up two pairs of identical black jeans.
"Okay, those fit me so well, I bought two, because I thought I'd wear them out too quickly," Domino explained.
Sabrina scooped up an entire pile of black denim, then walked past Domino and threw them onto the bed. She returned to the closet, taking another pile of black jeans and repeated the process.
"Okay, you're going to look through these jeans and choose ten to keep. We're donating the rest," Sabrina said, a hand on her hip.
"This isn't a measurement," Domino said, her eyebrow
s raised.
"Yeah, this is an intervention," Sabrina said, pointing to the pile. "Ten."
"Twenty," Domino bargained.
"Ten," Sabrina said, enunciating the word firmly.
"Fifteen," Domino said, looking down at the pile of black jeans. Many were gifts or photo shoot presents, but she had bought a few of them for specific concerts and shows. They all held so many memories.
"Twelve, final offer, or we're throwing them all out," Sabrina said.
Domino scowled. "You're very mean," she grumbled, rifling through the jeans. She narrowed it down to thirty, then took a step back. "That's all I can do."
Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "Listen. This isn't just about making sure your sock drawer is organized by rainbows. This is a process to give you the tools to be organized forever. And having fifty pairs of the same pair of pants isn't organization. That's called hoarding."
"No," Domino said firmly. "You said you'd organize. These are my things." She swept an arm over the pile of clothes. "If I want thirty pairs of the same pants, that's something that I can do." She resisted the urge to leap into the pile and close her arms around them protectively, but only barely.
Sabrina raised an eyebrow. "I can see we've touched on something a bit deeper..." She paused, watching Domino. "Why do these jeans mean so much to you?"
"They don't," Domino admitted.
Sabrina tilted her head. "I'm not following. Five seconds ago, you basically told me I could pry them from your cold, dead hands, but now you're saying they don't matter to you?"
Domino realized she was breathing quickly, getting worked up about denim. "I'm not getting rid of them. I don't care what you say. You can stay out of my closet if it bothers you so much," she said.
Sabrina sighed, holding up her palms in defeat. "Fine. I'll stay out of the closet," she said.
Domino let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Change of subject," Sabrina said, glancing out the door of the bedroom. "You have a guest bedroom."
Domino nodded, not following the new train of thought. "I do," she said slowly, suddenly skeptical.
"Why did you make me sleep on the couch the other night, then?" Sabrina asked,
Domino's defenses fell almost as quickly as they had gone up. She rubbed the back of her neck, chuckling. "Well, I didn't think you could make it up the stairs on your own and I wasn't about to carry you," she admitted.
Sabrina pressed her lips together in a thin line, nodding. "Good grief," she said. "I know I said we'd just forget it ever happened, but I do just want to thank you for making sure I got home safely."
"Well, I think you got home safely," Domino admitted. "I came back from surfing and you were gone."
"Your note kind of make it seem like you wanted me to be gone," Sabrina said with a shrug. Her face darkened as though it embarrassed her to admit it.
"Oh," Domino said, frowning. It was funny that she had left a note for Sabrina, when lately it was women leaving her the notes. She wanted to say that she had had a lot of fun with drunk Sabrina, that it was nice to finally see the woman let down her hair. That she liked what she saw –– a fun, carefree woman without a filter between her brain and mouth. "I didn't..." Her voice trailed off as an awkward tension grew between them.
Sabrina cleared her throat, tapping her notebook. "Anyway, I have all I need here, so I'm going to make up a plan and a shopping list."
"A shopping list?" Domino asked, arching a brow. "For what?"
"Drawer organizers, clear bins, things that will help me make sure your place doesn't fall into its sad state the moment I leave," Sabrina said with a small grin.
"What, they just have an entire store for organizers?" Domino asked, confused.
"Uh, yeah. It's called The Organizer Store," Sabrina said, laughing.
"You're lying," Domino said, grinning.
"Scout's honor," Sabrina said, holding up the fingers of her left hand in what Domino imagined was a scout salute.
"Oh," Domino said, rolling her eyes. "Well, that sounds extremely thrilling."
"It's my favorite store in the entire world," Sabrina said, shifting her weight on her legs shyly. "It's like my Disneyland."
Domino raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "No way," she said. "Does it have fireworks?"
Sabrina narrowed her eyes. "Want to go there with me?"
Domino laughed, then realized Sabrina was serious. She tried not to immediately panic. "Disneyland?" She joked.
Sabrina shook her head. "The Organizer Store."
"Oh, um... sure?" She answered, her voice rising in question. What exactly was she agreeing to?
"Wednesday, then. I'll get all of my ideas out tomorrow and then make a list. Get prepared for your mind to be blown," Sabrina said, mimicking the saying with her fingers faking an explosion out of her temples.
"You're really talking this up, Sab," Domino teased, liking this silly side of Sabrina. "I don't know if anything could live up to that hype."
Sabrina walked past her out of the room, mimicking the mind-blowing gesture one more time. "Get. Ready.”
Chapter Six
Sabrina
Sabrina watched Domino stare up and down the aisle of tiny, clear, organizers. There were clear bins, drawers, spice racks that spun... Sabrina could barely slow her pounding heart. Even just the smell of the store –– fresh linen with a hint of eucalyptus, if she was guessing correctly –– made want to clap her hands together with excitement.
All of the possibility made her giddy.
"You're right, my mind is... blown," Domino admitted, though her voice sounded distinctly nonplussed. She had her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans.
Sabrina glared down at the denim she had attempted to confiscate, although they really did make Domino's backside look fantastic, so maybe she could keep that one pair. Sabrina was a reasonable person able to compromise, after all.
Sabrina ultimately decided to ignore Domino's tone. "I know, right? Okay, let me show you what I'm imagining for your closet," she said, and had to take a deep breath to keep from giggling in excitement as she led Domino to another aisle filled with stackable bins and drawers.
"Oh," Domino said, her eyes growing wide as they scanned up towards the ceiling. "But, why?"
Sabrina put her hands on Domino's shoulders. "Remember. You trust me," she said, giving Domino a little shake.
"Today is the day I learned that looks can be deceiving," Domino said, leaning forward to open a tiny drawer of a jewelry organizer.
"Oh? Why is that?" Sabrina dared to ask.
"Because you look like a very normal, well-adjusted person. And yet, you, Miss Meloy, are a maniac," Domino said, punctuating the last word with jazz hands.
"A maniac?" Sabrina asked, tilting her head. "For appreciating good design?"
Domino shook her head. "No, you're a maniac because you guilt-tripped me into letting you organize my house, which is in no way working on your behalf," she said as she began counting the reasons on her fingers. "And then you drank so much that I had to fireman carry you home."
"––Well, I do remember us agreeing to never mention that again," Sabrina interjected, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And lower your voice, please."
"And then you told me––" Domino stopped talking abruptly, a tiny crease appearing between her brows.
Sabrina arched an eyebrow. "Told you what?"
"Uh," Domino stalled, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't. "You told me this was Disneyland!" She said enthusiastically.
A child nearby gasped, blinking. "This is Disneyland?!" He turned toward his mother, looking extremely upset.
"Dom, darling, you're upsetting children," Sabrina said, trying to use a nickname for Domino as casually as Domino had begun using a nickname for her. She grabbed Domino's arm as she laughed, dragging her out of the aisle with an apologetic wave to the kid's mother.
"Well, it seems like torture to bring a child in here, anyway," D
omino whispered, glaring at Sabrina.
"I'm going to give you a task, and you're going to find it fun," Sabrina said, pulling her notebook out of her bag. She tapped her the toe of her leopard-print loafer on the ground as she flipped through the pages.
"You are going to create a new shoe organizer for your closet. I want you to picture all of your shoes being in one, easy-to-find, non-oven place," Sabrina said, trying to set the scene. "It's going to set on the floor and it's going to have multiple tiers. The top tier will be for your taller boots. You get to design it however you'd like."
Domino blinked. "Sorry, wait, when does the fun part come in?" She crossed her arms.
"Geez Louise, Domino, I find it very hard to believe that you can't make this fun," Sabrina said. "Now, go ask that very nice lady over there –– her name is Samantha –– to help you create what you're envisioning."
"Geez Louise," Domino repeated, grinning. "I haven't heard that since second grade."
Sabrina narrowed her eyes, then pointed. "Go. Shoes. Now."
Sabrina spent the next hour filling four shopping carts with bins of all shapes and sizes. There were the clear, open bins for Domino's pantry, the fabric-covered ones for the shelving, the drawer bins for her closet, the shallow bins for the bathroom, the flexible bins for the drawers... She ticked boxes next to the list. She had even grabbed display stands for Domino's surfboard, guitars, and awards.
She looked around the store, surprised that Domino wasn't standing beside her, complaining that she was taking too long. Then, she heard Domino's laughter.
Curious, she peered around an end-cap of bathroom drawer liners to see Domino standing with Gracia. Gracia, a younger employee at the store who had started around seven months before –– the day Sabrina desperately needed a wall-mounted necklace holder, in fact, because she remembered that day very clearly –– but she had proven to be less useful than most of the other employees.
It seemed as though Domino didn't find her useless, though.
Gracia was giggling, her cheeks bright red. "I don't think that's how that works," she said, breathless.
"But it'd be kind of magical, right? Like just a rotating system, and then some type of computer... tablet, even..." Domino was gesturing wildly.
Bewilder (The Kaleidoscope Album Book 2) Page 5
