Page 106 of Fixation
They’re more vivid. More alive.
Silver pieces with black stones. Not like the flip-flops. Like his eyes.
Something dark and mysterious. Yes, it could totally work. Summer doesn’t have to mean bright, happy colors. Or bright pastels.
If Anderson can convince me that his cruelty is something to be thankful for, I can pull this off.
Really, Harper? Really? You couldn’t run fast enough out of there, and here you are, obsessing over him? Immersing him in your designs?
He’s controlling you.
Just to prove a point to myself, that I’m still a free woman, I walk over to the kitchen and dump the flip-flops into the large trash can.
“So, what do you say?” Emersyn sounds hopeful.
I picture her back in our tiny L.A. office — blonde hair pulled into its usual tight bun, jade-green eyes steady as ever, keeping track of all the emails and orders I’ve been neglecting.
Oh, and my refunds. I remember her saying she’d compensate our customers. Of course she did.
Which reminds me. That transfer I got on one of my cash apps from Anderson came out to exactly what we paid back.
I declined it the second the notification popped up.
Twisted as it is…it was almost sweet.
Still twisted. And too controlling.
When he pushed the money through a second time, I finally stopped fighting him, then donated it all.
Anyway. Emersyn. She was fooled by Anderson. By a predator.
Anderson is a conniving predator. He’s been studying me. Reading my emails.
Learning how to talk like me.
Terror and unease settle into my bones. I shiver as a hint of excitement joins the party.
My mind is as screwed up as it’s ever been.
I mean, look at me. I’m not hurt or traumatized or crying over what happened in his basement. Being kidnapped by him doesn’t feel bad in any way shape or form.
I don’t even care about the cameras he installed in my home anymore.
I need clarity, and for that, I need some time for myself.
Good thing this important business call is about to be over. I have piles of laundry waiting for me, so I go upstairs to get my hamper.
After I’m done, I’ll start working on my custom orders. The bride’s necklace and bracelet are the most important. The A-lister’s earrings and ring for her next month’s premiere are second.
The other, less urgent ones, will come later. I’m eager to sketch the designs for my new collection. Those that float inside my head thanks to him.
Yes, thanks to Anderson.
“Harper?” Emersyn calls my name. I must’ve spaced out. “You there?”
“Send me their offer and the information you have on them.” I clear my throat, trying to sound more like myself. “I’ll go through it, and we’ll see from there.”
“It’s in your inbox as we speak.” A vibration in my phone notifies me that she sent it.
