Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) (4 page)

"You did work hard," Cameron answered, shaking her head as Michael devoured the rest of his toast. "You're like a little celebrity around here, and you can't gloss over the other offers you've had. Being asked to coach the younger girls is nothing to make jokes over, Harmony, and you know it."

"I know, but all that time, I guess somewhere in me was this little hope. There was a part of me that wanted that whole Olympic thing. Not just for the celebrity, either, because I've never craved that. But to be recognized in that way for all my effort would have meant a lot. And now, it's all behind me. I guess knowing there will be a new kid around who can make it has just brought it all out for me," Harmony said quietly, spearing a grape and swirling it through the almond butter on her toast.

"I didn't know you were struggling with that," Michael said, gently pulling Harmony's head to rest on his broad shoulder. Her honey-colored hair was pulled tight from her face, wrapped in a neat bun in preparation for the coming meet. Hairpins sparkled around her head, glittery pins cleverly inserted with the dual purpose of enhancing her image and holding back flyaway hairs.

"We all do. It's easy to say that we're just in it for the love of the game, you know? And it's always true, you have to love gymnastics, really love it, in order to go through the beatings you take in training. The falls are painful, the injuries plentiful. I've seen people wipe out their entire career in one fall; I've seen aerials go horribly wrong in practices. But we're all doing it with a goal, you know? Everyone wants to get somewhere with what they do."

"That's true enough," Cameron said thoughtfully. "What are you going to do with it though? You can't go into the meet today with this cloud over your head, Harm, or you'll end up on the sidelines getting something wrapped in fiberglass."

"I know. So let's eat, and we'll talk about you guys instead," Harmony said, a wicked gleam in her eye. "And I'll get distracted, and then I'll be fine. I may not win the meet with that other girl there, but if I'm going to get a real shot in the training world, I need to be able to prove I've still got it, old or not."

"Yeah," Michael laughed. "Because you're so ancient, being all of nineteen. After the meet, Cam and I will take you for your Botox, and then we'll get you in for that hip replacement, okay?"

"Ew, Botox." Harmony arranged her face into a tight pose with no expression, only her lips moving as she continued. "Then again, I could be completely devoid of facial ability. Kind of cool. The only gymnast with a paralyzed face.” She broke into a grin, shaking her head. “No way," she laughed.

"Well maybe if you put the post-meet smile on before they do the shots, they can freeze your pretty smile in place, hmm?" Michael teased.

"Yeah, she griped about Botox, but I noticed she didn't complain about the new hip," Cameron laughed.

Harmony allowed her face to relax into her usual easy grin, so like that of their father and their brother Drew. "Well, maybe they can give me extra flexibility or something. I can use that when I try to bribe the male nurses at the geriatric home to give me extra applesauce with my blood pressure meds." She winked, laughing at the scandalized expression on Michael's face.

"Oh God, I did not just hear that. Tell me I did not just hear my kid sister joking about prostitution for applesauce," he muttered, swiftly moving away from Harmony to the edge of the booth seat.

"Well, I gotta get my sauce somehow," Harmony laughed. Michael's eyes widened in shock, and he dropped his face to his hands.

"I'm telling mom to lock you up," he muttered, his words muffled by his hands.

"Now Michael, you heard," Cameron joined in, laughing along with Harmony. "She's gotta get her sauce from somewhere."

"I'll have you know, she's plenty saucy already," Michael growled, his fierce sound ruined by the grin he wore. "And she'd better be keeping it all to herself."

"Michael, you're such a prude," Harmony laughed. "I am not a baby, you know; I am nineteen years old!"

"I don't care, I'll say the same thing when you're sixty," he said.

"And what if she's married?" Cameron asked with a grin.

"Same thing then, too," he laughed, handing the check and his credit card to the waitress who'd just arrived to clear the table.

***

"Oh my God, this guy? Again?" Cameron asked, exasperated. She was with Tabitha, setting up their plans for the week, and Tabitha had just opened their business email account. Right at the top was an email address that Cameron had known by heart for years.

"Lester? Is that Lester McMillan?" Tabitha asked. "Oh, it is! Can you believe this?"

"Not really. How many times is this now?" Cameron asked, leaning over Tabitha's shoulders to read the email.

"Five, I think? Is it five, then?" Tabitha wrinkled her brow, a wisp of red hair slipping from her hair clip and falling over her shoulder.

"I can't believe this guy!" Cameron exclaimed. "And the worst part is that he's so young. How can he be emailing, looking for us to plan another wedding for him already? This will be his fifth wedding; you'd think he's figured out that he sucks at it by now. Who the heck is on their fifth wedding before they're thirty-five? I mean, jeez, he's our age!"

Tabitha signed, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know, Cam. He's a good client, though, and planning another shindig for him would set us in the black for a good long while. He likes those big huge parties, remember?"

Cameron gripped Tabitha's shoulder suddenly, drawing her breath in. "Oh. My. God. Tabitha, look at the email again. The bride. Oh my god, the bride."

"Okay, okay," Tabitha muttered, leaning forward again to look closer at the email. Cameron stood back, waiting with her arms crossed under her breasts, a pained expression on her face.

"Okay, this is just too much," Tabitha laughed, pressing her chair back and resting her head on the desk. "Seriously? How did these two get together? Seriously, are they meeting new spouses right there in divorce court now?"

"Christina Dawn to see you, Cameron." A disjointed male voice broke into the room, the only other employee in Cameron's business. He was a cousin of Tabitha's, and they'd all known each other since childhood. These days, he worked the front reception desk for Cameron's business; he was the first face anyone saw when they entered the office.

"Oh that's fast," Tabitha muttered. "She's here already."

"Hi, y'all," Christina said, breezing into the room. Her surgically perfected face was glowing, her straight teeth gleaming from a tense smile glossed over in trademark red. The scent of something spicy and sensual followed her, billowing out from the folds of her bohemian skirt. Her voice was a rich, low, country drawl, and she wore her fame confidently.

"Ms. Christina Dawn," Cameron said, forcing extra warmth into her voice and a smile to her face. "We were actually just talking about you, and --"

"Oh, honey, ever'one's talkin' ‘bout me," Christina interrupted, waving her hand dismissively, her diamond-encrusted rings sparkling in the light of the room. "My new movie went out last week, an' ever'one that matters is still floored by it, talkin' all over the place ‘bout my performance. But I'm here to plan a weddin'!"

"Is that so?" Tabitha asked dryly. She stood silent as Christina looked at her briefly and then turned back to Cameron, rolling her eyes at the blatant dismissal.

"Now, I know you planned my weddin' before, and the time before that," she said, her drawl turning 'that' into 'they-at'. "But I'm givin' it another go, and I want you on it, Cam’ron."

"I see," Cameron said, nodding with forced patience.

"My betrothed was s’posed to message you ‘bout all this," Christina went on, wandering around the office in a take-charge way that indicated her sense of self-importance.

"Lester McMillan?" Tabitha asked, glancing down at the email as if to make sure she was getting the name right. Christina, forced to notice Tabitha, turned and nodded crisply, pursing her lips and narrowing cool, hazel eyes. Her perfect blonde hair swinging, she sauntered over to Tabitha and pressed a credit card into her palm.

"Be a dear, won't you, honey, and go on over to find me a latte in that diner down the way?" She gave a tight smile, and turned her back on Tabitha, dismissing her a second time. She took a breath, gathering her fame around her and resting in the fact that the world found her significant. Waiting for the sound of Tabitha leaving the room, Christina adjusted a lampshade, then picked up and examined a small crystal sculpture on a table.

"Now that the help is out of the way, we can talk more seriously, honey," she said, patting her fingers lightly over her hair to see that it was still smooth. "I swear, there's always some crazy fan tryin' to get a piece of me these days." She rolled her eyes, and Cameron laughed, reminded of Tabitha's own eye roll moments before. They hadn't gotten along while planning Christina's second wedding either, because Christina's husband at the first wedding had developed a nasty habit of flirting with Tabitha.

"That must be difficult for you," Cameron murmured, sliding around to take her place at her desk. "What can we do for you, Ms. Dawn?"

"Well, like I said, I'm here to have a weddin' planned," Christina laughed. "You know me from the last one, honey, so you know I really don't care what you pick. Cost ain’t an issue either, so you do what's fancy, and I'll sign checks. That seemed to work well last time, didn't it, doll?"

"It certainly did, Ms. Dawn, you had a wonderful wedding. The papers loved it."

"Yes, well, they just love ever'thin' that's to do with me," Christina giggled, leaning back to cross her slender legs. "I'm like a little piece of the last meal on the planet, love, and ever'one's wantin' a bite."

"Well, now you can't blame any of us, surely, Ms. Dawn," Cameron said, glad the other woman didn't recognize the mocking tone she couldn't keep from her voice. "A woman of your ... splendor ... is something to be watched and admired, isn't that right?"

Christina giggled again, placing one elegant hand over her chest in false modesty. She lowered her face, looking out at Cameron coyly from under thick lashes. "I do suppose some people see it that-a-way," she said.

"Ms. Dawn, are you sure you don't care what's done for the wedding? You wouldn't like to choose some of the music this time, or the flowers? Anything? Make it more personal?"

"No honey, I'm an actress," Christina said, raising an eyebrow and speaking slowly as if Cameron were intellectually challenged. "As an actress, anything in the world can be personal to me. Why, even that pen there," she gestured dramatically, indicating a cheap drugstore pen that Cameron had found in Michael's car. Her hazel eyes flooded with tears, and she took on an entirely new persona.

"That pen, that was my momma's pen, so long ago when she was alive. And she used to sign my school papers with it, and she used to write long love letters to papa ..." Christina allowed her voice to trail away, a tear cutting a trail through the makeup on her cheek.

"You see doll, I can put meanin' in anything," she said as she rose from her chair. “The weddin' is in two weeks, honey. Set it up." Breezing carelessly out the door, she completely missed the shocked expression on Cameron's face. She pushed through the door just as Tabitha was coming back in, snatched the latte and her credit card from Tabitha’s hand with a quick "thanks, love," and she was gone.

"Well, you look like you've just had a blast," she laughed, coming in and dropping into the chair Christina had just left.

"I feel like I've been hit by a blast," Cameron muttered, pulling herself together. "That bimbo just said the wedding is in two weeks! How can I plan a 'weddin' fit for a star' in two weeks?!"

"Pull out the plans from the first wedding and fancy them up a bit more," Tabitha laughed. "She didn't care back then either, she probably wouldn't even notice now."

"The newspapers will," Cameron said. "No, it has to be original. And Tab, I know she's awful to you, but please, will you help me?"