Page 11 of House of Bass

MJ notices the shift in me but she mistook my upset, “Hey, however bad you think it was, I promise you it likely wasn't. You’re great, Gigi would be a dumbass not to give you Odette over a small mistake.” I give her a strained smile because we both know the woman isn’t the type to let mistakes slide. No special treatment for anyone.

Not ready to let her know what’s going on just yet, I turn on my side making a show of wanting to be alone, “Sleep. It’ll be like the day never even happened.”

Some time later, I groggily peel my eyes open as the heavy knocks on my front door wakes me from my slumber. I look at the red mini clock next to me and it says ten pm. MJ must’ve left as soon as I dozed off, there is a note pinned to the clock that read, “ got hungry xoxo ” she can’t cook so there was no point staying over. I drag my feet towards the door, as the banging increases. “I’m coming!”

I open the door to reveal a stunning black girl with big curly hair standing there with a bag in hand. She is in jeans and a hoodie that she drowns in as she is slim, and of a similar height to me, with high cheekbones. She has a couple piercings on her nose. Her green eyes, that feels eerily familiar, scans me, as I do her, with a faint level of distaste.

“Can I help you?” I question trying to muster as much pep in my voice but it definitely came across weak.

“I’m Harley. Apparently, I’m your sister,” she says.

Everything became clear instantly. Why those eyes felt familiar, they are identical to my father’s.

5

HARLEY

She’d done it. She left. Harley was woman enough to admit she had taken the coward’s way out. Her mum had been asleep that late afternoon when she carried her lone bag out of the house with nothing but a note stamped to the front door. Still, she felt something inkling towards pride that she managed to do something for herself for the first time in her life.

Now she was being debriefed about what to and not to do, what to and not to say by the same girl who she had met that night. It was just the two of them this time as they sat across from one another in the unnecessarily big private plane. They could’ve simply taken the train or driven, all thoughts she voiced but were shut down. She quickly figured this was a scenario of the rich loving to have their ego stroked by flaunting their wealth to those who didn’t have it.

She had met the pilot and air hostesses when they first sat down, the latter tried to serve her a meal but she declined as she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of food made in the air.

“Lastly, you will go by your mother’s maiden name,” the girl completed.

“Why not keep Bass? I don’t look like them anyway, no one would notice.” When she was younger she was confused as to why her last name was different from her mother’s, Banjo, but eventually gathered it had to do with her father.

“This,” she used her hand to gesture to Harley, “is a serious press issue. We need to take the necessary steps to handle how you would be introduced. The name Bass means something over there.”

Harley couldn’t pretend she didn’t know that, you would have had to live under a rock to not be aware of the family of one of the biggest conglomerates in the world. She even owned their phones that she got in a two-for-one deal for her and her mother.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” she asked instead after a beat.

This resulted in a blank stare, the girl replied, “What does my name have to do with anything I have just said?”

Harley shrugged, “I realised I didn’t know it.”

The girl leaned back in her seat for the first time, surveying her. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail with slight strands sticking out from the shorter hairs, it was undeniably effortless rather than messy, much like everything else about her. She was dressed more casually this time in a pair of jeans, still in heels, and this time with a different leather jacket, in brown. Harley had a feeling she probably had a closet filled with them. Probably helped curate the air of mysteriousness that plagued her.

With a relenting sigh she answered, “It’s Proserpina but everyone calls me Posy.”

For some unknown reason this made Harley smile, she hadn’t been expecting that. She was so serious and stern she had been expecting something like Margaret. The name humanised her, “But what if I wanted to call you Proserpina?” Harley asked.

Posy looked her up and down, “Please don’t.”

The banter faded into a comfortable silence but every minute of the trip had her ears ringing, her feet tapping and rubbing her thumb in circles on her thighs. Maybe it’s because she had never been on a plane before but she was nervous. She was certain she could hear her heart beating at a mile a minute.

To take her mind off it, and feeling like they had formed some camaraderie, Harley asked Posy more questions, “How long have you been working for him? My father.” The taste of the word was unfamiliar on her tongue, she couldn't tell how she felt about it.

“Almost three years,” she replied. Harley nodded, thinking that made sense considering how young she looked.

“What’s he like?” Harley asked tentatively, then rushed to say, “I just want to know for when I meet him.”

Posy slowly started to shake her head. “I never said anything about going to meet him.”

Harley sat up a little straighter at that announcement, confusion immediately overtaking her. She asked incredulously, “What are you talking about?”

“My instructions are to take you straight to your sister’s place,” Posy revealed, something akin to pity shown on her face at the way Harley’s face fell. “You won’t be seeing him just yet.”