The private dressing suite turned out to be a room larger than my apartment's living room. Velvet curtains. A three-way mirror that probably cost more than the Lexus. A small sitting area with furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum.
Vivienne disappeared behind a curtain with a garment bag.
I stood in the sitting area. Checked my phone. Harlow had sent seventeen new messages in the past two hours.
ISAIAH
did u get vivs text
she said ur driving her around
is she being scary
shes probably being scary
tell her to stop being scary
actually dont tell her i said that
she'll know i said that
ISAIAH
respond
pls
im bored
cassidy wont stop brooding
I typed a quick response. Busy. Will text later.
"Isaiah."
Her voice. From behind the curtain.
"Yes?"
"I need assistance."
"…What kind of assistance?"
"The zipper." A pause. "It's stuck."
Of course it is.
Because why would anything in my life ever be simple.
"Can't one of the staff help with that?"
