The Kaleidoscope Album Box Set

by Bryce Oakley

  “Something like that,” Zoey said calmly, reaching to fluff the pillow under her head.

  Domino sighed, pushing her short hair out of her face.

  Zoey sat up quickly, pulling a pair of lacy underwear out from under the pillow where her hand had just been. Her mouth gaped as she tried to untangle them from her fingers. “What the fuck, Dom?”

  Domino pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She shrugged, unsure of what to say Sam… Samshira? Was that a name?

  “Just… meet with the organizer, okay?” Zoey said, standing up from the bed.

  “Fine,” Domino groaned, seeing no way out.

  “Perfect. I’ve set up the consultation meeting for you tomorrow,” Zoey said, walking into the attached bathroom and turning on the faucet to wash her hands vigorously. “Cleaning service will be here soon. Also, lacy underwear girl left a note on the side table. You really shouldn’t lead girls on.”

  “How do you know it’s the same girl?” Domino teased. Sincerely, she didn’t know. How long had those underwear been under that pillow?

  She grabbed the note, reading the usual Didn’t want to wake you but had a great time, let’s see each other again tonight/soon/next week. She crumpled it into a ball and tucked it into the drawer on the side table.

  Zoey gaped at her again. “You’re an awful person.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sabrina

  Sabrina Meloy stood over the dresser in her closet where she had carefully laid out all of the contents of her purse the day before.

  Each evening, when she came home, she unpacked her purse, storing her wallet, keys, and all of the miscellaneous junk that she had ended up acquiring in an organizer that let her see exactly what she had and what she needed.

  She was meeting a potential client that day –– the kind of client that could explode her entire career in publicity.

  Everyone loved Domino Rush. Even Sabrina was a big fan of The Shrikes –– when they were making music a handful of years ago, at least.

  Domino frequented all of the same lesbian and gay bars that she did, especially in WeHo, but Sabrina had never spoken to her. Of course, she never would have approached Domino, mainly because she was always surrounded by gorgeous women. To walk up to a woman with a model hanging off her arm –– that was a level of confidence that Sabrina only aspired to.

  Domino was an enigma, and half of the reason that Sabrina had accepted the client and felt a bit nervous was because she thought that Domino was an exceptionally attractive enigma.

  Not that she’d ever cross the client-organizer line, but a girl could dream.

  She had an active social media presence, from what Sabrina could stalk, but Sabrina couldn’t find a single photo of her home.

  An adored rock chick like Domino surely had a cool house. She bet that it had some kind of surfer or bohemian vibe, and that it was bathed in natural light.

  She smiled to herself, thinking of how wonderful that would look in her portfolio and online. Zoey had only agreed to doing a few spaces, but Sabrina was sure she could up-sell her services to Domino somehow.

  Her clients thus far had been rich housewives –– and there were plenty of rich housewives in Los Angeles that wanted color coordinated closets. She, of course, had never grown tired of helping out the women who called her, but it was so much of the same. Fridges full of organic food, watch collections on display for their husbands –– she had even organized one woman’s doll collection, with carefully labelled bins for each of their clothes. She shuddered, thinking about the hundreds of blank doll eyes.

  When her friend Zoey had called, she had imagined that she’d be organizing Zoey’s closet, but she had requested that Sabrina meet with Domino, instead.

  Of course, Sabrina had talked Zoey into letting her work her magic on Zo’s closet, as well.

  Zoey’s gifted Louboutin and Gucci and Tom Ford heel collection, arranged by color and style… now that would be the ideal portfolio piece. She could imagine the blog post about it now.

  It all fit into her one-year, five-year, and ten-year plan. By one year she’d be flush with clients and hire her first employees. By five years she’d have a book deal and maybe a regular segment on some sort of television show. By ten years she’d have a national brand with employees and businesses throughout the United States and Canada.

  Nothing and no one was going to step in her way.

  “Are you daydreaming?” Isla said beside her in her cheerful Kiwi accent. Her roommate had a terrible habit of sneaking up in cat-like silence.

  Sabrina jumped, holding a hand to her heart as it beat erratically in her chest. “Cheese and rice, you scared the heck out of me,” Sabrina said, adjusting her glasses and gasping, trying to regain her breath.

  Isla grinned, leaning against the closet doorway. “I just asked if you were daydreaming instead of getting on your way. You’re going to be late,” she said.

  “I have plenty of time,” Sabrina said, checking her phone. She lived in Pasadena, but the meeting was closer to Hermosa Beach, for Domino’s convenience. The meeting was at 11am, but it was only 9:30. Her navigation had said it would be a 50 minute drive. She was golden.

  “There’s a huge crash on the 110,” Isla said, raising her eyebrows. “You’ll have to take the 405, which has construction.”

  “No, that routes me through downtown,” Sabrina said, her heart beginning to pound again. She did not like changing her plans. “I’m going to be late.”

  Nothing was worse than being late. In general, but the top tier of worstness was definitely being late to a client meeting.

  Isla grabbed her shoulders. “Breathe. You’re meeting Domino Rush. She is like the ultimate laid-back cool girl,” she said. “She’s like the epitome of relaxed and cool. Just call her and let her know you’ll be a little late. Also, grab an umbrella or else your white dress is going to show a little too much.”

  Sabrina stared at her with wide eyes. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, considering it. But then again, admitting defeat this early on in the client relationship? She shook her head. “No, I can make it. I will make it.”

  “You’re an adorable psycho,” Isla said, laughing.

  “Do I look okay?” Sabrina said, turning back to the full-length mirror near the door. She was wearing a crisp white sheath dress that she had found in her favorite vintage shop, paired with heels that made her legs look amazing, in her very professional opinion. Her dark, waist-length hair was parted neatly in the middle and fell smoothly over her shoulders. She second-guessed the white, knowing that it was raining on and off, but it looked so good with her hair and she had already spent an hour choosing it, steaming it, staring at it, and steaming it a second time.

  “Hmm,” Isla said, then turned and left the room in silence

  Sabrina stared after her, then smoothed her dress down, watching her reflection. Hmm? That was all she got?

  Isla returned after a moment, handing her a pair of bright tassel earrings. “Domino is cool. You need to be much cooler than you currently are.”

  “Oh yeah? You’re the expert on coolness, now?” Sabrina teased, shaking the tassel earrings at her.

  “I’m as much of an expert as you’re going to get,” Isla said, quirking one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. Isla was classically gorgeous, with naturally highlighted hair and tan skin, but she was also extremely tall and gawky in an endearing cluelessy-gorgeous-could-be-a-supermodel kind of way.

  “Ooh, these are pretty,” Sabrina said, putting the earrings on. She furrowed her brow, staring at them. “Look, I’m cool.”

  “You’re completely put-together, and you have great style, but you’re not rock star levels of cool,” Isla said, grinning.

  Sabrina glared at her while putting her things in her purse. “That’s simply untrue,” she said with mock sincerity.

  “You say heck,” Isla said, crossing her arms as though the matter was settled.

  “I am extremely cool,” Sa
brina said, walking out of the room.

  “I bet your plans tonight are to sit on the couch, eat popcorn, and watch the new Netflix romcom,” Isla called behind her.

  Well, she wasn’t wrong.

  * * *

  The car lurched to a stop and Sabrina threw the shifter into park. She looked at the time on display.

  10:58am.

  She had made it.

  She reached across the console and grabbed her bag, which had spilled out all over the seat and floor during the five thousand times she had to slam on her brakes, weave around idiots, or run reddish-yellow lights.

  But it had all been worth it, because gosh darn it, she had made it.

  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 Twenty-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.