Season of Sisters (41 page)

So much had changed since the day he first asked her to marry him. She was no longer the woman who'd sauntered up Main Street toward the Greystone Hotel, her Life List in her purse, the love in her heart overshadowed by despair. She had changed. She’d conquered her fear. Now, the time had come to prove it to the man she loved.

When the bad segued into “Stardust” she asked, "Justin, did you mean what you said that day we saw the genetics counselor?"

"I said a lot that day, but yeah. I meant what I said. Don't worry, Holly. I told you I won't ask you to marry me again, and I meant it."

"That isn't what I'm talking about. I mean the part about the test results. That you'll love me and want me no matter what the tests reveal."

He stopped mid-step. "Have you finally made up your mind? Are you going to have the test?"

"Answer my question first. Did you mean it when you said you'd love me whether I'm positive or negative or have surgery or not?"

"Of course I meant that!"

"I thought so."

"Holly, I—"

She shushed him with an index finger against his lips.

"Maggie told me she let slip what I had planned that day at the Greystone."

He blinked, obviously taken aback by the change in direction of their conversation. "Storeroom sex and crotchless panties."

Grinning, she dipped her hand into her neckline and pulled out the key she'd carried nestled between her breasts since bribing the maintenance worker earlier that morning. She swung it back and forth in front of Justin's face. "I had set a goal to do something deliciously wicked. Now I simply want to live."

"Is that a key to...?"

"I checked it out. The Ashford's storeroom is nicer than the Greystone's."

He missed a step. "Oh, Holly."

The band played the refrain of "Taking a Chance on Love" as Justin's hand slid from Holly's waist south. "What about the rest of it?"

"The rest?"

"The panties."

"Now, sweetheart, I don't want to spoil the surprise."

He groaned and pulled her closer, burying his face against her hair. "Witch."

Joy bubbled up inside Holly, overflowing her heart. Laughing, she pulled away, took both his hands in hers. "Not anymore. I'm not afraid anymore."

In the periphery of her vision, she spied Maggie and Grace, standing beside each other, watching her. Cheering her on.

Then her focus narrowed to Justin. Only Justin. He was her world, her strength, her future. Her love. "What I I'm is asking."

"Excuse me?"

"I love you, Justin Skipworth. Will you marry me?"

"Holly," he breathed out in a long, relieved sigh. His chocolate brown eyes warmed with pleasure and his mouth curved to a satisfied grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

The End

Page forward for more by Geralyn Dawson

Acknowledgments

I want to thank Linda Robinson, genetic counselor at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center, for her time, interest, and expertise. My thanks to the women of the Yahoo Breast Cancer Club, who patiently answered my questions and offered such valuable insight, and also to Susan Friedman and the "previvors" of FORCE,
http://www.facingourrisk.org
,
for sharing your fears and feelings. You helped me breathe life into this story and I'm exceedingly grateful.

Excerpt from

The Last Bachelor in Texas

by

Geralyn Dawson

Chapter 1

"Tomorrow is the anniversary. I simply must be in Memphis."

Tess McKinney pulled the phone handset away from her ear and glared at it. The tinny-sounding voice continued to yammer without pause. Tess kicked off her Jimmy Choo slingbacks, crossed her ankles, and gazed out her office window toward the hazy Hollywood hills. Her client, Jennifer Hart, was young, she reminded herself. Young and extremely talented. She was allowed a few quirks.

This, however, wasn't one of them.

"Well?" she heard. "What are you going to do about it? Tess? Tess!"

She dragged her attention away from the view and twisted her chair to get a sniff of the lavender-scented, peace-promising aromatherapy candle she kept burning on her credenza. "Jennifer, we discussed this conflict before you signed the movie contract. You specifically agreed to skip your annual trip to Graceland for the vigil. You will be on the set tomorrow morning if I have to haul you there by the hair."

"But I haven't missed an August sixteenth in Memphis in ten years. It's like a holy pilgrimage."

Tess rolled her eyes, but gentled her voice. "You pay me to manage your career, Jennifer, so listen to me. I know that staying away from Memphis this year is a big step for you, and I'm proud of you for it. When you find yourself weakening, remember that this film is shaping up to be an Oscar contender."

"But Elvis—"

Is dead.
"You can send flowers. It'll be fine, Jennifer. You'll be there in heart, and that's what truly matters. Dedicate your scenes tomorrow to his memory and make them the very best you've ever done. It'll be your special tribute."

"A dedication—I like that. That's a nice idea, Tess."

Sensing that the crisis was behind them, Tess picked up a pencil and drew a line through Jennifer's name on her call return list. "Now, go wash away those tears and fix up your face. You don't want the paparazzi catching you with runny mascara."

"All right. You're right. I know that. Thank you. This has been so trying. I never expected the life of a film star could be so difficult."

Keeping the handset to her ear, Tess dropped forward and quietly banged her head against the cool dark wood of her mahogany desk. Her stapler snagged a strand of her shoulder-length blond hair, and she winced. "You'll get through this, Jennifer, and you'll be stronger for it."

"True." Jennifer released a dramatic sigh.
"Shimmer
magazine says that fire is the test of gold, and adversity is the test of strong women."

The girl had always had a tendency to overact. "Sounds like Seneca to me."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Go to work, Jennifer. 'Bye."

Replacing the handset in its cradle, Tess lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. "Give me patience, Lord."

She said the prayer every day. Anyone who attempted to manage creative personalities needed patience at the top of their list of virtues. Lately, Tess had noticed her patience growing thin. She needed a vacation, a long weekend, at least. Maybe she'd take Friday off and drive up the coast, find a little bed and breakfast, and laze around for a couple days. That, or schedule a spa weekend. A full body massage sounded heavenly right now. She loved her job, but stress could eat her alive if she didn't manage it. But then, managing was Tess's job.

Tess was considered one of Harrison & Associates' top talent managers. She'd started with the firm as a receptionist twelve years ago, fresh off the bus from Texas with a high school diploma and little else. Over time, she'd worked her way both through college and up the Harrison & Associates ladder. Now she maintained her own list of clients, and for the most part, excepting a neurosis or six, she truly liked and respected the people she represented.

That's why, when her intercom buzzed, she didn't hesitate to respond. "Yes?"

"Mr. Muldoon is holding on line two."

"Thank you, Lena." Tess picked up the handset and punched line two. "Good morning, Jake."

"Hello, beautiful. Do you have a minute?"

For the Emmy-winning star of television's most popular legal drama and the only man with a law degree she truly admired? Always. "Sure. What's up? Have you made a decision?"

Jake had been offered a role in a feature film during
Line of Defense's
hiatus next summer, and for the past three days, they'd debated the pros and cons of taking it. On top of being drop-dead gorgeous and a great actor, Jake was one of the most intelligent men Tess knew. She considered it a great testimony to her skills and instincts that he continued to seek and value her opinion.

"I'm going to turn it down."

Smiling, she sat back in her chair. "Why?"

"Because you're right. That's not the role I should take at this point in my career."

"Have you told Sam?" she asked, referring to Jake's agent, who'd been pushing him to do the film.

"Yeah. He didn't take it well. Told me I should fire you."

She laughed. "That's the third time this month. He sent a new client my way yesterday."

"He thinks you're the best."

"I am."

"Yes, you are. So, is our date still on for tonight?"

"Business dinner," Tess corrected. After they made arrangements to meet at a small, family-owned Italian restaurant that Jake often frequented, Tess hung up the phone with a smile.

Business dinner or date. They argued the point every time. Tess didn't date her clients, period. That was bad business all around. Jake had been trying to get her to change her policy for over a year now, and the man was certainly persuasive. Tempting, too. Women all across America—all across the world—fantasized about Jake Muldoon. But Tess had an inviolate list of men she'd never date. Clients, actors, and lawyers occupied three out of the top five slots, and Jake, though sexy, smart, and genuinely a nice guy, was guilty on all three counts.