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“We’ll discuss the details of repayment later.”
Her eyes slip past me to her sister who is interpreting for me.
My phone rings again.
Lucy.
Something’s wrong.
I grit my teeth and turn swiftly. Hurrying to the roadside to catch a cab, I answer the phone with an abrupt, “What did you do now?”
“Dare,” my sister’s voice gurgles over the line, “it’s… bad this time.”
My jaw clenches.
An invisible vice tightens on my temple.
“I’ll be right there.”
* * *
I stare at the cherry red convertible sticking out of the beauty shop window.
The vice grip on my head turns murderous.
There’s something in the air tonight. Two strangers smashed the windows of my car for reasons that I still can’t figure out. And my sister crashed her cherry convertible straight into a building.
Maybe someone put a curse on all the Sullivan vehicles tonight.
“Daaare!” My older sister wails, looking up at me with mascara running down her face. She’s clutching a can of ginger water. Her very own hangover cure. “I swear I saw a baby deer. I swerved so I didn’t hit it.”
“A baby deer.” I frown. “In the middle of the city?”
“I swear it was there. It was…” Her bottom lip trembles.
“What?”
“Beautiful.” She starts crying again. Big, fat tears roll down cheeks flushed pink.
Lucy throws her arms around my waist and my own eyes water from the stench of alcohol pouring out of her.
I let out a giant, pained exhale and pat Lucy’s hair awkwardly. Her tears sink into my shirt and I’m sure she’s leaving black mascara stains all over me.
“I’m just glad you’re not hurt,” I mumble.
I’m also glad dad went to college with the city’s chief of police.
Glad the chief picked up my call when I rang this late for a favor.
Glad we could hire more lawyers than there are police officers out working this case tonight.
Glad I could call the city’s biggest news outlets and promise them an exclusive interview about my move to the city along with an eyebrow-raising advertising contract with my subsidiaries.
Glad we have the money to pay off all eyewitnesses and quietly sweep this under the rug.
But maybe having the money to do whatever we want is exactly why my sister felt comfortable enough toram her car into a damn building.
“Where’s Talia?” I ask, prying my sister off me so I can look at her splotchy face.
