Perfection

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by Claire Adams




  Perfection

  By Claire Adams and Shawna Gleason

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Claire Adams

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  Chapter One

  Lilly

  The campus coffee shop buzzed with excitement because handsome guitarist, Riley Patterson, was scheduled to croon for patrons for an hour this afternoon. My best friend Kate was a huge fan so of course, we had to take off from our busy college schedules to listen to him. Riley didn’t know it yet but he had an appointment with Kate—she was going to get to know him, or so she said. We’d been best friends since high school and Kate hadn’t changed much. Long brown, curly hair, hourglass figure and a confident attitude about everything—all things I admired about her.

  When the tragedy struck, she’d proven to be a true friend, abandoning her life for weeks just to stay with me. I loved her for that. Now, I was moving on with life, or trying to and I had some self-improvements in mind. One of the things on my list involved a minor plastic surgery procedure, breast implants. I loved my small waist but my bosom looked small in comparison to my round bottom. No matter how hard I worked out, no matter how firm I got, my cleavage looked exactly the same as it did when I was in middle school. To some, it might seem like a small thing but to me, this surgery would be the beginning of a whole new life.

  “Are you sure this Dr. Steinmann is the right guy?” I whispered to my friend as Riley tuned his guitar. “I mean, I didn’t think he’d be seeing me right away. Don’t they usually have long waiting lists, these celebrity doctors?” I might as well have been talking to Riley’s guitar because Kate was already focused on the dark-haired musician. I didn’t see what the fuss was but to each his own, I suppose.

  “Are you getting cold feet Lilly? Maybe you should wait a while and think about things. It is kind of a permanent decision.”

  “No, this is what I want. I’d like to have it done and have some time to heal before swimsuit season. I’m just wondering what kind of doctor is willing to see me right away. I don’t want some hack working on my boobs.” I laughed at my own joke and finished off my mocha coffee.

  “Well, I hear he’s gorgeous and he likes giving his patients the ‘personal’ treatment, if you know what I mean. Amanda Dixon says that he’s got the best pair of hands she’s ever had.”

  “What? I am not looking for a date—or whatever he’s offering. I just want to have an upgrade without fighting off some ‘skeevy’ doctor.” I turned three shades of red. I wasn’t getting a good feeling about Dr. Steinmann. What if he molested me or had sex with me while I was under the influence of the anesthesia. “I think he’s off my list now.”

  “Look, Amanda tends to exaggerate about those things but he did give her a great pair of breasts and her nose looks a thousand times better than it did. Remember how crooked it was? You would never know it had ever been broken. I tell you the man is a miracle man. Also, I heard he just gave your favorite musician a booty boost.” I gave her a shocked look but I didn’t answer, I was still unconvinced. “Okay, the truth is his waiting list is short because he costs a small fortune and he travels. This is up to you though. You ought to at least meet with the guy before you say no. Take a look at his portfolio, talk to former patients and then make a decision.”

  Riley plucked his guitar and sang like a poet. Okay, now I see the attraction. He’s not much to look at but he’s got quite a voice. I listened to a couple of songs and then checked the time. Oh crap! I had fifteen minutes to get to my French class. I didn’t interrupt Kate but I did show her my watch to let her know I had to go. She nodded and sang along with Riley. He had spotted her about two songs back and had been singing to her ever since. I don’t think Kate noticed but Riley had a girlfriend or at the very least a devoted fan who was giving her the stare down. My perky friend seemed not to notice and I knew she could handle it. Riley had a date, whether he knew it or not.

  During my walk to class, I thought about the surgery. Both my attorney and Kate had recommended Steinmann but I wasn’t so sure. The rumors about his playboy ways were beginning to weigh against his glowing reviews. I was just crossing the quad to get to class when my phone rang. In a hurry and without looking at who was calling I answered.

  “This is Lilly.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Brightwood. This is Dr. Steinmann returning your call. I’m going to be in your area tomorrow, if you have time for a consultation. The message said you were interested in a breast procedure?” His voice was warm, confident and young; he was not the old letch that I imagined.

  I stopped and sat on a nearby wooden bench. “Yes, Dr. Steinmann, I did call about booking a consultation with you. I have heard you were the best and I do want someone I can trust. I’ve never had anything done before so I’m a little anxious.”

  He chuckled warmly.

  “It would be hard not to imagine being nervous your first time. I have found the best way to calm a patient’s fears is to explain the procedure step by step. First, I would need to take a look at you, determine what we can do and how we can do it. Just having a consultation is not going to commit you to anything. It is more an informative session to talk about your options. But that’s totally up to you, Miss Brightwood.”

  That sounded harmless I supposed. “Okay, that sounds great. How about tomorrow at 3? Is that okay with you?”

  “Absolutely! My assistant will call you to set up the details. I look forward to meeting you.”

  “You too, doctor. Thank you.” I hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Well, here we go. It looks like I am one step closer to a whole new me and I will finally get to meet this legendary doctor.

  I felt strangely excited.

  Chapter Two

  Bullet

  "Dr. Steinmann, if you will follow me sir." I followed the perky air hostess to my first class seat. She was thin, too skinny for my taste but she was friendly. I was the first to be seated and as requested, it was a seat near the window. "So you are a doctor? What kind? I mean, what do you do?"

  "I make the world a more beautiful place... Candy." I read her nametag and flirtatiously looked into her blue eyes. I could not help but imagine what she would look like with an eyelift or a little enhancement here and there. Maybe a young Brigitte Bardot.

  "Sounds interesting. Maybe you can tell me more about it later?" Okay, this was too easy.

  "Unfortunately beautiful, I need to catch some sleep before I see my next patient—perhaps another time." I took the blanket she offered me and leaned back in my seat to think about the past few days. I was beginning to tire of the game. Easy sex bored me. Poor Candy was just another empty canvas, waiting for me to paint on her and make her "beautiful."

  I was glad to be leaving Minneapolis. Although it was a productive trip—I scheduled several procedures—I looked forward to going home. Of course Serena had been a pleasant distraction, her breasts had set perfectly and she enjoyed her new body—and so did I. But in the end she was just another woman sporting my enhancements, empty of personality. What the hell is wrong with me? I have everything I’ve ever wanted—money, fame, sex. Fuck.

  "Dr. Steinmann? Can I get you anything?" It was Candy again, this time holding a glass of champagne and a bottle of water. I smiled at her. "You know what Candy? On secon
d thought I think there is something you can give me." Twenty minutes later, I returned to my seat, covered myself with my blanket and waited to arrive at the Des Moines airport.

  * * *

  Thank goodness, my housekeeper had visited while I was gone. New shirts and suits hung up in my closet straight from the dry cleaner. I really need to give that woman a raise. I sat at my massive wooden desk, opened the bottom drawer, removed a bottle of my favorite whiskey along with a crystal glass, and set them on my desk. I poured a drink while I powered up my laptop. I had a ton of emails but I only opened the ones from my assistant. The rest of these could wait. I was tempted to open the two from my brother but I decided against it. Did I have time to deal with him right now? Mr. Perfect with his Perfect Family. He was always preaching to me about slowing down, as if I were an old man. For God's sake, I was only 34 and in great shape. That reminded me; I needed to hit the gym in the morning. My brother Slate was just jealous of what I had. There was no way his boring little wife could keep him interested forever. No way was he fooling me. I remembered the guy I grew up with—Slate had always been much more of a player than I had.

  My trip to Kansas City looked to be profitable. I read through the list, which included the name Lilly Brightwood. She had been a breath of fresh air. Something in her sweet voice interested me. Like many women, she was clearly unsure of herself and to be honest, we hadn't talked very long but I was excited about meeting her tomorrow. I scrolled through the list and saw a few familiar names. Claire Whittington — now that was a name I recognized. I dialed the number from the list expecting to hear Claire's husky voice on the other end. Claire's voice was magic, especially when she put her dainty tongue in my ear.

  "Hello?" A sleepy voice answered. I picked up the clock – 11 p.m. Probably too late to be calling clients, even the friendly ones.

  "Hello — Claire?"

  "No, this is Lilly. Dr. Steinmann?" Damn! What did I just do?

  "My apologies, Miss Brightwood. I obviously called the wrong number." God she had a sexy voice—sexier than Claire's.

  "Wow, you take these house calls seriously, don't you? Returning a patient's call at this hour?" She gave a soft laugh. I didn't want to hang up with her. I could play this game.

  "Well you know how it goes, neither rain nor snow..."

  "Actually, I think that's for the post office." Another soft laugh... Hmm...the charming Miss Brightwood had a sense of humor.

  "You're probably right, it's late and I'm tired. I am sorry that I interrupted your sleep, if you were sleeping."

  "Yes, but I just went to bed. No worries, doctor. I will let you go so you can make that call. I will see you tomorrow at three. Good night."

  "Good night, Miss Brightwood." I hung up the phone and sat at my desk staring at the computer screen. Out of curiosity, I searched her name and a variety of pictures popped up. I narrowed her down by her state. Oh Miss Brightwood, you are lovely. I stared at her picture but not critically as I usually did. It was the side profile shot of a young woman with loose blonde curls, a wide smile and perfectly white teeth. I could not be sure for eye color but I suspected they were green or hazel. I stared at her feeling slightly aroused. Damn! I closed the computer forgetting all about Claire. I took my bottle with me and headed to the shower, remembering Lilly's face and fantasizing about her body. I could not wait to meet her, see her breasts and ass. I was sure she would not disappoint.

  Chapter Three

  Lilly

  "Guess who I talked to last night?" I pushed a wayward curl away from my face and gave my friend a mischievous grin.

  "I don't know...that guy in your building...Ted?"

  "What? He's not interested in me; he's in love with himself. He cannot pass through the lobby without staring at himself in the mirror. I hate it when guys are self-obsessed. No, keep guessing."

  Kate leaned on her arms, looking tired and slightly disheveled. Was that the same outfit she wore yesterday? It suddenly hit me; my dark-haired friend was crabby because she had spent half the night carousing—probably with the angst-laden songwriter and musician, Riley Patterson.

  “Okay, what gives Kate? Tell the truth, you hooked up with Riley Patterson yesterday and you haven’t been home yet. Was it worth it, girl? I mean,” I whispered in a low voice so our droning professor would not hear us. “Was it?”

  I didn’t condemn my friend, I was just curious about her experience. If anyone was ever a “Bohemian,” it was Kate. She went from one relationship to the next looking for the perfect lovemaking experience. It was not that she was a whore—no, she would not sleep with you because she was desperate for sex. If Kate chose you for some playtime, it was because she wanted to find out how you performed. If she liked the experience, she would stick with that lover for a month, sometimes up to three, and then she was bored again.

  When I first met Kate, I was shocked by her methods and practices but now, I accepted her for who she was—a fun-loving, softhearted young woman curious about the world and the people in it. A natural beauty, Kate and I were exact opposites, physically. She had a little behind, ample breasts and long legs. I had a round, shapely rear but I was stuck at a B cup for a bosom. I had a narrow waist; Kate’s was straight and kind of mannish. She frequently talked about wearing a corset to get a wispier shape.

  “No, it wasn’t worth it. He had to bring his girlfriend too and she would not let me explore him like I wanted too. She was kind of an attention whore—it was not really about her but about Riley. Maybe I will get the chance to play with him without her around. I hope so or I will have to move on.”

  “Did you take his picture?” That was her thing; she had to have a picture of her lover, preferably as close to the time of their encounter as possible. She liked getting the raw look, not porn, mostly black and white facial expressions. Kate was quite the photographer. "Not worth talking about—so who was your mystery caller, Lilly?” She looked at me with her bleary, red eyes.

  “None other than Dr. Steinmann.”

  “No kidding! Bullet Steinmann called you?” Kate’s dark eyes flew wide open.

  “Bullet? Who names their child Bullet?” I had to ask.

  “Bullet is a fine name for a criminal and in this case—a hot doctor!”

  “How do you know he’s hot?” I had seen her idea of hot before so I was not sold that he was actually good-looking, at least according to my standards—mine were pretty high when it came to sexual partners. "Oh hold on." She tapped on her tablet for a few seconds and passed it to me. “See, what did I tell you?”

  I took the tablet and said, “Whoa…” I could not stop staring at the face of Bullet Steinmann. The handsome doctor had dark wavy hair that he wore clipped neatly like a halo around his square face. His dark blue eyes shone back at me; he looked a little mischievous but it could be his smile. Bullet had perfect white teeth and dark pink lips. "Good Lord, he's going to see me naked? I don't think so. This guy can't be a cosmetic surgeon, can he? I mean he looks like a model or a race car driver—not a freaking doctor. I am going to have to cancel my appointment."

  "You do that. I will go in your place. I would love for him to see me naked." I snickered at the idea. "Lilly, Katie, you guys listening?" Our professor stared at us over her glasses and clicked on the monitor.

  "It's Kate, Professor Lindale and yes we are listening." I tried to focus on the lecture but spent a lot of time daydreaming about the face of Bullet.

  I whipped out my phone and texted Kate. "I wonder if he's short?"

  She texted me back, "I guess you will find out at three o'clock." My eyes widened at her. I stared at the classroom clock. Just four more hours to meet Dr. Hottie, not an appointment I had forgotten but now, it seemed much more exciting, more daring. As Lindale bored us with her latest diatribe on the current field of art historians, I wondered what I should wear. I mean, I only needed to take off my top, right? Not all of my clothing. If I did have to strip down to my underwear, I certainly wasn't going to wear my Saturday
-night-without-a-date panties. However, my thongs might be a bit over the top. I mused about this problem until the end of class and headed to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. Kate went back to her dorm for a two-hour nap—she had more classes, including Martel who liked pop quizzing individual students in front of the entire auditorium.

  Originally, I planned to sprint from my last class to the clinic, which occasionally hosted Dr. Steinmann's consultation appointments. Not going to happen now. I needed time to get a shower, shave and pick out what to wear. I am being ridiculous. Why should I care? He is not going to be looking at me like that anyway. I am sure he sees dozens of women's bodies every day. I am worrying over nothing.

  I did not ditch my entire last class of the day but I did leave 30 minutes early. It was only courteous to get a shower, right? In the end, I settled on my sapphire blue bra and panties set. I reached for a casual-looking orange summer sweater and a dark brown short skirt. I had good skin tone and I was proud of my naturally tanned skin. It was too hot for boots so I settled on cork-heeled wedges. I left my hair in ringlets—it took forever to straighten it and time was not on my side.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. Was I sure I wanted to do this? I turned to look at my side profile. "Yep," I said to myself. "You deserve this."

  I grabbed my purse, cell phone and keys and headed out the door. I hopped in my BMW and pulled out onto the highway. The clinic was only a few minutes, not long enough to change my mind. The parking lot was full when I got there but I managed to find a spot.

  A friendly nurse with warm-looking brown skin greeted me and handed me an interview sheet. "Just fill out the first two pages please."

  I found a cozy spot in the waiting room and began filling out the papers. In a few minutes, I returned the forms to the nurse at the counter and looked for something to read on the way back to the white leather couch. I hoped it was not going to be a long wait. I needed to pick up my violin; I had it restrung and would it need it tomorrow for orchestra. I peeked at my watch and flipped through the pages of People Magazine. It was one of their beautiful people editions. I skimmed through the glossy pages, looking at an endless parade of perfect faces and bodies. I stopped at one page featuring one of my favorite actresses who quite openly talked about a breast procedure she had undergone. "It was the best decision I ever made. I have so much confidence now." Exactly! I don't want to look like a freak show—I just want a little more up top. Is that so wrong?

 

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