Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4)

Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4) by Marie Hall




Chapter 1





“What kind of name is that?” Paz Lopez hopped on one bare foot, while simultaneously gripping the cell phone with her chin as she attempted to slip on her blood red pump. She very nearly broke her neck in the process when she stumbled over the corner of her cream shag rug. “Dang it,” she hissed.

She could already picture Richard rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Diabolique.”

This time, she was the one to roll her eyes. Plopping down on the edge of her unmade bed, she did what her father used to always say: work smarter, not harder. So much easier to put shoes on when sitting, instead of hopping around like a broken jack in the box.

“I heard you the first time. But that doesn’t sound like any kind of carnival I’d want to visit. Sounds creepy.”

“Aww, come on, chicken. Todd and I are going and it’s sorta lame that all you ever want to do on a Friday night is vegg in front of that dinosaur you call a TV and down two point two glasses of vino.”

Paz loved her brother, she really did. But ugh… she rubbed her nose, stomach churning with nerves and irritation. Now was so not the time to be talking about carnivals, or whatever the hell this Diabolique place was. She had an art show in an hour, today was her make it or break it day. It’d taken months for the hottest gallery in town: Moderne, to agree to even potentially host an exhibit for her.

Of course they hadn’t. She was too new. But she had a friend, who knew a friend, who knew a guy who had an exhibit scheduled and was in need of ten more paintings to fill the space. Fast forward several boxes of tissues, lots of chocolate, and probably two (okay three) bottles of champagne later, Paz was here. Ready to break out. To become a name. Finally.

If only her stupid nerves would settle down and stop making her feel like she was totally going to puke all over her pearl gray goose down comforter. Pinching her nose, she counted slowly to ten. She only got to three before Richard starting acting obnoxious as usual.

“I know you’re there. I hear you breathing.” He proceeded to pantomime harsh deep breaths. “Answer me, or I will stalk you. I know where you liiiiveee.”

Giggling, she yanked her purple head pillow off the bed and shoved it against her stomach. Maybe pressure would ease the knee-knocking nerves. “You’re really annoying.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well Todd loves it. So tell me you’re coming.”

Paz shoved about a week’s worth of bras underneath her bed and lifted the teal shirt off the lampshade she’d tossed carelessly aside last night. Jeez, she was really a slob. Maybe when she got filthy stinking rich she could afford a maid.

“Are you coming to my show?” She plucked at her bejeweled skirt. Her first and only attempt at making clothes. Skirts were supposedly so easy to make.

Lie.

She’d had to undo the stitching four times before she felt certain she wouldn’t zip it up and have a wardrobe malfunction. Namely having the stupid thing fall down around her ankles when she stepped off her elevator into the lobby of her swank Chicago digs.

Though swank was sorta stretching it. She wasn’t sure the five hundred square foot broom closet she currently called home could ever be considered swank, but she had a great address in the hippest part of town and with any luck, she’d be moving to that penthouse suite after tonight.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” His voice was warm, reassuring, and Paz couldn’t help but smile. She loved her brother. “But Todd told me to ask you now, because we both know how you get when you’re talking about your art.”

“No I don’t.” She tossed the pillow away, fiddling with the large cream flower on her black cable knit sweater.

“Pfft. I didn’t even have to tell you how you act and you’re already defending it. So answer, sis. I’m not getting any younger.”

“Fine.” She stood, grabbing her purse and wallet off her green distressed thrift store nightstand. “I’ll go butt face. But I won’t promise to like it, so there.”

“You don’t have to like it, but you do have to visit Madam Pandora’s tent with me. Bye!”

“What?” Her brows dipped, but all she heard was the buzz of an empty line.

Rolling her eyes, she patted her flat blunt bangs and took a deep breath, ready to face her future. Her stomach nosedived. Well, unless she had to puke first.





***





The Chicago fairgrounds were magical at night. Neon lights lit up the park like a firework’s display. Crowds clamored from one red and white pinstriped tent to the next. The buttery scent of popcorn wafted in the air, tickling her nose.