Page 5 of Lyric Squared

“I didn’t know you’d made it home.”

“Where are your brothers?”

“They said they’d be back in an hour. That was two hours ago. They’re running an errand for Dad.”

“Alright, baby. I’m headed downstairs to start dinner.”

“But Dad promised he’d cook today.”

“Mm hm. I know.”

“Are you trying to break the old man’s heart?”

She chuckled. “That will never be my intention. Not as long as I’m breathing. But, he’s already given me the green light. He’ll be running late this evening. When he gets home, I want dinner on the table or ready to be plated, not him scrambling.”

“Alright girl. Take care of your man.”

She shook her head. “Take care of those dishes tonight.”

Her comeback silenced me. I nodded with a smile, letting her know she’d won that round. She closed my door behind her. The moment she disappeared, my shoulders slumped. I leaned over, pulling the photo from the underside of my foot.

“Close call,” I whispered with a heavy sigh.

My nostrils flaredas the memory blackened, forcing me back into reality. TheCreed’s Wind FlowersandBaccaratcombination was unmatched on my skin. With one in my left hand and the other in my right, I sprayed even, strategically positioned pumps onto my freshly showered and moisturized skin.

The moment they were applied was as critical as the combination. It was paramount that the particles were ableto embed themselves underneath the first layer of skin for longevity in addition to my personal scent being one of the key notes of the final fragrance.

The glass bottles sounded on the marble countertop of my bathroom as I sat them both down. There was something about putting my perfume on in the mirror that made it feel and smell even better. Spraying blindly was never an option, even when crunched for time. Racing against the clock wasn’t the case at the moment, but my actions wouldn’t change if it was.

“Alright, Lyric, twenty minutes.” I sighed, inhaling the uncompromising combination.

My reflection stared back at me, prompting a smile. The flawlessness of my skin was tempting. Every day, I concealed it with my obsession with a perfect beat, but tonight I was experiencing a change of heart. The twenty minutes it would usually take me to polish my face could easily be spent with the three little people that I missed more than I could verbally express.

Forget it. The decision was made as quickly as possible. A quick peek through my bedroom and at my vanity, I tilted my head and considered what I was getting myself into by stepping out for the evening bare-faced. With a shrug, I used my fingertips and began making gentle tapping motions along my jaws, chin, and forehead.

The smoothness of my skin was so satisfying. No matter how much makeup I piled onto it, I took good care of it. Bi-weekly facials from my esthetician were part of my self-care routine that I wasn’t willing to sacrifice for anything or anyone. They were mandatory, much like my next breath, for survival.

Palming my cheeks, I tore my eyes from the mirror and stepped into my bedroom. The black button-down and fitted pants to match laid across my bed as if it was my first day of school or the first day of my new job. With the excitementof family dinners brewing in my bones, I could relate to both sentiments.

The once monthly event left my cheeks red, blotchy, and burning from the constant laughter, smiles, and conversations that went on for hours. Combined with my favorite season of the year and I was in heaven. Autumn was the time of year that reminded me of just how blessed I was. The amount of time I spent alone and at home sipping honeyed tea and cocoa while reading my favorite romance novels always left me in a state of bliss and thanking God for such a rewarding life.

One by one, I slid the threads onto my skin. The silkiness of the shirt caused small, fine bumps to line my arms, shoulders, and back. A chill ran down my spine, followed by an exaggerated shiver that made me feel tingly inside. My eyes watered slightly but cleared with a simple blink.

I pulled the black, thigh-high Manolo Blahniks up after I’d gotten my pants over my roundness. The tail of my shirt covered far too much of my bottom half for my liking. I quickly fixed the issue by tucking it loosely into my waistband, but not enough to see the empty belt loops that I had no intentions of filling. I pulled on the black blazer and stepped closer to the wide, floor-length mirror that I was already staring into.

Perfect. I admired my reflection, noticing only a few things that were missing from the equation. In a few seconds, I was inside my closet and standing over my jewelry case. I tapped the combination of buttons that I knew would grant me access to some of my most prized possessions.

Clack.

The disarming of my safe sounded. I lifted the top and removed the Audemars that had been gifted to me for Christmas. My oldest brother, Luca, had upgraded me, again. I wasn’t complaining. Between him and Laike, I wasn’t sure whose gifts were better. Next was the roped diamond necklacethat I loved more than I cared to admit. It was quickly followed by two bracelets that Luca had been generous enough to purchase as well. The diamond earrings were already in my ears.

There.I smiled, stepping back and taking a look in the mirror inside my closet. It was the same as the one in my bedroom. I slid the head wrap from my forehead and watched my loose, barrel curls fall from underneath. With a little fingering, they lie perfectly on my shoulders and hung slightly down my back.

I tidied up as I walked through my bedroom and bathroom to disable the lights. On my way out of the garage door, I grabbed the large, black Chanel bag that was waiting on my kitchen counter. The lights of my truck flickered as I unlocked the doors before stepping onto the custom epoxy flooring, a gift of Laike’s in addition to the garage and G-Wagon that was parked inside of it.

When he felt inclined, he utilized his God-given talent and architectural degree. Six months ago, I’d been blessed with his latest project, a fully customized two-car garage that he somehow attached to my home. His ministry wasn’t mine, so I’d never understand.

Numbers were my thing and I knew them well. It was the reason I was the most sought-after accountant for those who didn’t exactly punch a clock to earn their money. The people that couldn’t walk into a bank with the kind of cash they were seeing called me to clean their money and store it safely so that the biggest criminals – the government – of them all didn’t get suspicious.