“I don’t believe that,” I said. “Take Cameron. He’s sacrificing so much for his best friend.”
“In what way?”
I slid down the lounger and nudged my glasses back up my nose.
“You two are ridiculous,” she said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Tara says everyone can see how in love you are but you two.”
“I think Richard and I are very affectionate in public,” I said. “No lack of PDA’s for us two.”
“Whatever.”
“What does that mean?”
“I wasn’t talking about Richard.”
My hand flew up in defense. “No one truly knows what’s going on. Not really.”
“I’ve known you a long time, Mia. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you in love.”
“I attended some therapy sessions with Cameron,” I said. “That’s what you’re seeing. A deep connection. Respect. Gratitude.”
“So that’s what we’re calling it now.”
“Richard’s been through too much,” I said. “I could never hurt him.”
“Give him some credit,” she said. “It’s not like he couldn’t get another girl in a heartbeat.”
“I’d break his heart.”
“Saying you love someone is quite different from loving them.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cameron’s willing to let you go yet Richard’s not.”
“That’s because he needs me.”
“I don’t think that’s it at all. Richard thinks you need him. He’s trying to protect you from the world he’s built up around him. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”
Hurt welled. “You don’t think Richard loves me?”
“He loves you, Mia. He’s just not in love with you. There’s a difference.”
“Why are you being like this?”
She looked sympathetic. “Because you and I have been there for each other from the beginning. We know what it is to drown and we know what it is to fly.”
All this romance had gone to her brain.
The only problem was Richard and I now lived together. Was the home we’d built up around us a lie? Was Winston the only honest one in that Malibu beach house?
Richard had taken my virginity in the garden. Didn’t that count for something? Cameron had nudged us together because we were perfect for each other.
And yet we weren’t.
I could never be Jasmine, bowing down at Richard’s feet every five minutes. I loved being dominated during sex. That was pretty fantastic actually, being held down and fucked senseless, but did I really want to be treated like a woman without an opinion?
It was too late for me. For us.
This roller coaster relationship was secured to its track and there was no getting off.
This is not about you, I reasoned.
And this was not a bad life.
The one man who I loved more than life itself didn’t want me anyway.
Even if just a few days ago we’d cuddled for over an hour in Chrysalis’s basement, holding on in an endless embrace. This was the man with whom my heart lay. Yet Cameron had told me in no uncertain words we would never be.
“I’ve upset you,” said Bailey.
“No, you haven’t. I was just thinking. That’s all.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I gave a shake of my head and watched Tara trot towards us.
“Let’s get a cocktail,” she said.
Bailey sat up. “Your parents are going to be here in a couple of hours. Let’s not have them thinking I’m a bad influence.”
Tara pulled a face. “I’m starting to freak out.”
“It’s going to be fine,” said Bailey. “Your parents love you. They want you to be happy.”
Tara grazed her lip with her teeth. She didn’t look too convinced.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My mom’s been bugging me about meeting a nice man and having a baby,” she said. “She’s been going on about how my grandmother had an arranged marriage.”
“Was your mom’s marriage arranged?” I asked.
“No, mom met dad in the orchestra pit,” she said. “Dad shouted at her that she was late for rehearsal and she shouted back at him. Apparently it was love at first sight.”
“So we know where Tara get’s her confidence from,” said Bailey. “Both her parents are A-type personalities.”
And with those words, I suddenly felt worried for Tara.
CHAPTER 46
TARA’S PARENTS WERE impressed with the suite.
I’d poured them both a glass of champagne then Tara, Bailey, and I sat on the couch opposite, nervous as hell and trying not to show it.
Mrs. Razor wore an elegant blue sari, and you could see where Tara got her looks from. Her mom was somewhere in her forties and was so pretty, her cheeks plump, her hair and makeup flawless. Her dad was a little older and he was handsome in a tall, demure, bearded conductor kind of way.
I’d managed to dodge their questions about my job, having told them I was a secretary in a counseling office. Tara nodded her approval. I kept turning the conversation over to Bailey. This was her day after all, and I wanted them to see how incredible she was.
“She’s saving lives every day,” I told them proudly. “And Tara’s following in her footsteps. How perfect is that.”
Bailey tugged on my sleeve, hinting she wanted to talk to me.
After offering a polite gesture to excuse myself, I followed her over to the bar.
“Too much?” I whispered, cringing.
“Don’t hate me,” she said.
“I promise to shut up from here on in.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
I frowned at her, trying to work out what she was saying.
“Tara invited down a friend to help with all this,” she said.
“Why would I hate you?”
“Because there’s only one man who can handle something like this and make everything all right.”
I wondered if Tara had a kind uncle who’d be joining us.
Then I realized. “Cameron?”
She swallowed hard, her face full of stress.
I blushed wildly. “In this hotel? Now?”
“And Richard too,” she said. “They came together.”
Get on the road…
Richard had tipped me off and I’d missed it.
A knock at the door shook me out of this stunned state.
“That’s not them?” I whispered, my heartbeat taking off at a rapid rate. “Is it?”
Bailey gave a goofy smile.
Tara answered the door.
Trying not to gape at the two perfect specimens who’d just walked in, my feet stuck to the carpet and all I could muster was a weak wave.
Cameron was dressed in faded jeans and a black shirt and Richard wore jeans too, only his shirt was white. They oozed wealth and success, and I hoped Tara’s parents wouldn’t pick up on their sexual auras that could light up Vegas itself in the event of a power outage.
They emanated playboy.
Mrs. Razor and her husband were just as mesmerized, it seemed, from the way they leaped to their feet and shook hands with these two newly arrived Vegas gods.
Richard came over and flung his arms around me. “This is a nice surprise, right?”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I said with a squeal.
My brain was trying to catch up.
And my heart was running around the room trying to hide from Cameron’s grin, which was currently on full beam and sending everyone into a swoon.
Room service delivered aperitifs and we all settled on the couches and went from small talk to profound conversation in record time. Mr. Razor looked impressed as Cameron talked about politics and how the republicans needed to lean less right, should they stand any chance of winning the next election. He hid his own political leanings well, offering a diplomatic touch to the conversation.
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Richard amused Tara’s mother as he talked about his violin lessons as a child. Apparently, he’d sent Snowy, his pet cat, running each time he’d played. Richard had given up way before mastering the instrument, whereas Mrs. Razor had gone on to become one of America’s most gifted musicians.
Tara’s mom had us laughing as she told us about her learning to play on a Stradivarius, a violin worth millions.
“I’d break those strings every day.” She laughed, her soft accent finding its way through her American. “My teacher would flip out like I’d broken a bone.”
She really could be funny. I loved Tara’s parents and felt sure everything was going to be fine.
The mood had been set. The food consumed. The liquor downed.
From Tara’s wriggling, she was ready.
“Mom,” she said. “I have something wonderful to tell you.”
Her mom’s face lit up and she shared a glance with her husband, hinting she sensed what might be coming.
“I’m engaged,” said Tara. “And I wanted you to be the first to know. Of course. I mean why wouldn’t it be you. I want your blessing. I’m so happy and in love. And this is the most incredible person I could have ever found. I’m in love.”
Mrs. Razor was gazing admiringly over at Cameron.
I’d forgotten how to breath, and from Bailey’s face she had too.
Cameron nudged her on. “Tara.”
Tara reached over and clutched Bailey’s hand.
Tara’s father leaped to his feet. “My darling, girl. I always knew. Always.” His eyes lit up and he held out his arms to her.
“You knew?” Tara leaped to her feet and ran into his embrace.
My heart went out to her mom, whose gaze was jumping from Richard to Cameron and back again.
“Sweetheart.” Her dad gestured to her mom.
Bailey stood and found herself wrapped in Tara’s father’s arms.
“But I don’t…” her mom stuttered.
“Mom, I’m gay,” said Tara. “Bailey and I are engaged to be married.”
“No…no, my darling girl,” said Mrs. Razor. “You’re not. You have to have babies.” She looked up at her husband for support.
“We can still have babies, Momma,” said Tara.
“But what will the family say?” her mom muttered.
There were tears, lots of them, with Cameron drawing on all his skills to get through to Tara’s mom and soften what seemed like a blow.
Tara looked devastated, and I cringed inwardly that her engagement weekend was ruined.
“This is not a choice a person makes,” said Cameron. “Science has proven without a doubt sexuality is decided in the womb. With men, it’s related to the testosterone levels of the mother—”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault my daughter is…”
She refused to say it. Her face filled with grief over the life she’d once imagined for her daughter.
“I’ll be proud to walk you down the aisle, baby girl,” said her dad. “Though I’m not sure…do I walk you both down?” He let out a laugh to ease the tension.
“Look how much they love each other,” said Richard, handing Mrs. Razor another tissue from the box he’d found. “They’re perfect for each other.”
I moved to sit next to Mrs. Razor and wrapped my arms around her shoulder. “What kind of violin do you play now?” I asked.
She wiped away a tear. “A Regina Carter.”
The room hushed as everyone’s eyes fell on me. Mrs. Razor wasn’t the only one wondering where I was taking this.
Except Cameron. He gave me a gesture of support.
“I know a thing or two about artists,” I said. “When you play your violin and you enter the zone, you disappear from the room, don’t you?”
She gave a nod as she dabbed tears from her face.
“You’re in a place that elevates you from everything around. What you channel transcends…”
“Love,” she said.
“Love finds its own way.” I gestured around us. “It transcends all this. Just like the music from your violin is pure, so is Tara’s love. I know this sounds cheesy, but I’m just trying to say I’ve known them both for a long time and their love is pure. Everything that is right with this world is in them.”
Mrs. Razor looked up at Tara. “How long have you been together?”
A lump wedged in my throat.
“A while, momma,” said Tara, tears forming.
Mrs. Razor looked at me then her gaze found Bailey, Richard, and moved on to Cameron, her eyes meeting ours as her mind seemed to try to grasp this.
“You will always be my daughter,” she said. “Just give me some time.”
“I have your blessing then?” said Tara.
“I’ve always liked Bailey,” she muttered. “You’re a lovely young lady, and if you are who my daughter chooses…then…fuck the family. You’re my daughter now.”
We hugged and cheered and a few of us might have cried too. We were relieved the hardest part of this weekend was over.
Tara was out, and I’d never seen her so happy, and my best friend Bailey was getting married.
Tara and Bailey spent the rest of the weekend with her parents. Richard and I gave them the space they needed. Our girl’s weekend had morphed into a couple’s retreat for me and Richard and we really needed it.
Cameron played a little poker that night and later that evening returned to L.A. He had patients waiting for him, Chrysalis to run, and a life that didn’t stop for partying in Vegas, apparently.
As we’d waved him goodbye outside the Bellagio, I’d witnessed the weight of the world descend upon him once again.
My heart ached for him.
His future was hinging on that trial. All I wanted to do was help him through it. Cameron was always going out of his way to save other people. It was time someone saved him.
Someone who knew him better than anyone.
CHAPTER 47
RICHARD WAS ONTO something.
Putting on a snorkeling mask and strapping a tank of oxygen to my back, and settling on Richard’s swimming pool floor really was peaceful. The only sound was muffled water in my ears and the mouthpiece regulator.
I was about to face the biggest challenge of my life and I was in no way ready for it. Cameron’s trial had been pushed forward and was now two days before New Year’s Eve.
A wavering blur appeared above. I was being summoned.
Gently, I kicked myself off the tile floor, rising slowly, blowing all air out just as Richard had taught me so as not to have my lungs explode and render me dead.
My head burst out onto the surface and I grabbed the edge of the pool.
Richard knelt before me. “How’s my girl?”
I eased the mouthpiece out. “Okay.”
“It’s going to be fine, baby. You can do this,” he said. “I’ll be right there with you. Just remember what Dominic told you and everything will be fine.”
The taste of chlorine stung my tongue.
Winston came over and sniffed me. A lick of his lips over my hand was his way of trying to reassure me. He’d sat on my lap last night in the sitting room as Dominic went over what to expect from the trial. Later that night, I’d tossed and turned all the way to morning, too unsettled to sleep.
In a few hours from now it would all be over, and everything would go back to normal. Or so Richard and Dominic had told me.
Richard helped me out of the pool and eased the oxygen tank off my back. After wrapping a plush towel around me, I trudged after him back into the house.
I took a quick shower then dressed in my smart black dress, wanting to make an impression, wanting to pull this off.
During the drive to Westwood, my stomach twisted, and I feared the first thing I’d do was throw up in front of that panel of psychiatrists who were convening over Cameron’s case.
We sat quietly in the lobby, waiting to take the elevator up for our appointment.
I opened my ha
ndbag, eased out a small black box, and slipped the engagement ring onto my left ring finger. This oval cut blue sapphire looked like it was worth millions and it caught the light, the diamonds set around it twinkling.
Richard stared down at it. “It looks gorgeous on you.”
It really was stunning, and its snug fit made it feel so right.
Hand in hand, Richard and I strolled into the building, and after checking in with the pleasant receptionist we were told where to wait. We chose the bench pushed up against the wall.
Behind those big wide doors to our right, the trial was in motion. Cameron’s fate as a doctor was being decided.
If I saw Lance or Helete right now, I’d be trying to drown them both myself. Ironically, Cameron was smarter than everyone here, and having spent time with him I’d learned a thing or two. Like a bishop is better than a rook in a chess move.
Life was chess and the master had taught me how to play.
The doors opened and a familiar twenty-something man withdrew. I recognized him as Brian. Although I’d only seen his face once, I knew it was him. Cameron had stopped at his house after picking me up from the tattoo parlor. He’d dropped off a prescription for this sweet young comic book writer, who was afraid to leave the house. Being here would have been a challenge for him.
Cameron really was an amazing doctor.
Dominic strolled out behind him and gave Brian a shake of his hand. Brian didn’t seem to recognize me, but on that day I’d been sitting in Cameron’s car, watching from afar and there’d been no introduction.
Dominic came over.
“How’s it going in there?” asked Richard.
“So far, so good,” said Dominic, watching Brian walk towards the elevator. “Having these kind of clients testify is always a wild card.”
“How do you mean?” I said.
“Some of Dr. Cole’s patients are delusional.”
“How’s Cameron holding up?” asked Richard.
“He’s eager to get out of here,” said Dominic. “He’s flying to Paris tomorrow. If suspended, he plans to stay indefinitely.”
Panic welled within. Not only would patients be losing an amazing doctor, but all of us would be losing a friend.
“Please tell me he won’t be suspended,” I said.
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