"Alone? That funny." Mystic Ming pinched his face and squinted. His hands shot up as he received another message. "Spirit guide say you never have boyfriend again, Garnett. You live very lonely life, and when you old lady, you die alone."
Garnett gasped, and her eyes welled up. The poor woman was about to cry.
Ever the champion of the underdogs, I stepped forward. "Mystic Ming, you take that back."
He eyed me like a vegetarian regarding a slab of prime rib. "You die alone, too, Dr. Meadows. Your boyfriend getting ready to dump you and your dung beetle hair."
That sent a shockwave to my heart. Things hadn't been good with Floyd, but I didn't think he wanted to end it. I'd considered breaking up with him, but there was the situation with Brownie. Plus I didn't want to cause another stye.
"Both of you ladies going to die alone. I promise you."
"Whatever." I was certain I wasn't going to live out his prophecy. One, Brownie had a long healthy life ahead of him. Two, I'd been considering getting a parrot after I heard about their hundred-year life span. And three, my ninety-one-year-old, aromatherapist aunt would probably outlive Brownie, the parrot, and me.
Garnett, however, wasn't so sure about her future.
"Take it back, Ming." Her voice rang with alarm, and her face paled. "I don't want to be cursed."
"Mystic Ming curse can't be undone." He jutted out his jaw, making it obvious his pink goatee was in need of a root touchup.
Goatee rootage. That was a new one.
Garnett sniffled. "Any curse can be broken."
"How so?" Mystic Ming asked.
She clasped her arms across her chest and flexed her fingers. "Any curse projected into the universe, willingly or unwillingly, will be nullified by the cursor's death."
A chill crept up my back, settling in my neck. "Let's not get carried away. We all came to this wellness expo with the same goal of helping people get healthier. The world needs holistic health practitioners, so we have to band together, right?"
Neither of them responded to my team-building talk.
"Only a fool think such a stupid thing." Mystic Ming turned toward the mirror and tightened the chopstick in his hair. "Death never cancel curse."
If I'd known what was coming, the appropriate thing to say would have been famous last words.
CHAPTER TWO
Date with a Jealous Vegan Vixen
Once I escaped the weirdness of the elevator, I hustled to the bathroom to check my hair. I leaned over the sink and peered at my mop from every angle. After a serious gut-wrenching assessment, I realized there was nothing I could do to combat the Florida frizz.
Except buy a wig.
How can you present yourself as a naturopathic doctor looking like this?
I was about to search out a wig store when I noticed my pink heart pendant. The one lined with rhinestones and, more importantly, my own brand of wisdom. I grasped it and read the tiny engraving on the front side.
Bliss = Karmic Law of Caloric Subtraction. Then I flipped it over and read the backside. Turn a calorie consumed into a calorie burned!
I smiled at my own silly advice, but I also felt empowered. Positive energy was a powerful force, so I urged my patients to take any negative situation and spin it from a calorie consumed into a calorie burned.
The ultimate technique to avoid spiritual bloating.
Hope renewed, I wet my hands and scrunched my hair, reactivating my high-powered hair gel. Then I glanced into the mirror. I wasn't a sleek, shiny-haired gal (and never would be) but my waves were a little less frizz-i-fied. I looked beachy. Bingo. A calorie burned!
I exited the bathroom and headed toward the exhibit hall—ignoring the pot stench—totally psyched for a fab day until I passed a purple arrow-shaped sign in the hall with two curious words. Psychic Fair.
Cute signage, but I didn't remember seeing it during exhibitor set up. Not that I had anything against psychics (well, except maybe one in particular), but this was supposed to be a wellness show. The information online had advertised, the best in body, mind, and spirit medicine, which I'd interpreted as naturopathic doctors, chiropractors, acupuncturists, holistic nutritionists, energy workers, and other healers.
Not tarot card readers.
Befuddled, yet intent on calorie burning, I walked inside. Flute music drifted from overhead speakers, and earthy incense hung in the air. A green banner with the words New Spiritual Beginnings Start Here hung from the ceiling. A few people milled around, checking out the offerings.
"Would you like a reading?" A woman with a shiny platinum bob and a face of gorgeously applied evening makeup smiled at me. She sat behind a table covered in a black sheet, decorated with a few boxes of tarot cards and a wooden cut-out sign—doused in gold glitter—that read, Vesta, Intuitive Vegan Vixen.
The vixen part totally fit.
"Awesome eye shadow. The dark grey compliments your outfit." I stared at her cosmetics a little closer. That shimmering sheen looked very familiar. "Is that Sparkle O?"
Her face lit up like a jack-o-lantern. "Yeah, how'd you know?"
I laughed. "I've been a distributor for a long time. I made national executive vice-president last year." The good thing was, because she was a Sparkle O user, I didn't have to defend the fact it was a multilevel marketing company.
"I'm a distributor too." She jumped up. "Do you have the Sparkle O car?"
I whipped out my cell phone and showed her the screensaver. "Just got Pinky last year. She drives like a dream."
We both gawked, mouths open and hearts pounding, at the image of my adorable, hot pink MINI Cooper with rhinestone-encrusted windshield wipers and rims. The ultimate measure of success with Sparkle O Organic Skincare and Cosmetics, Inc. After an appropriate moment of reverence, we simultaneously burst into the company's jingle.
"Make yourself sparkle with Sparkle O organic makeup!"
Awesome. Another fellow Sparkle O enthusiast.
We squealed at the insider's joke. The New Beginnings show was looking promising despite the odd sign. But then Vesta stiffened and crawled into her shell as if an old-maid librarian had shushed her for being too loud in the library.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I probably shouldn't talk about this here." She cast a nervous gaze around the expo hall. "My boyfriend hates Sparkle O."
"But it's organic."
"I know, I know," she said with a wave of her delicate hand (nails painted in Sparkle O's signature Peony Obsession, I noted). "But he's psychotic about any makeup because he thinks women should be naturally beautiful. He hates my blonde highlights too."
I jerked my head back so hard I nearly snapped my neck. Had I just encountered my long lost sister? "So does my boyfriend. He wants me to go au naturel." Like that would ever happen.
"How can men not understand the need for highlights?"
"Beats me. And my boyfriend wants me to quit eating all forms of dark chocolate." I laughed at Floyd's absurdity.
Her eyes widened, casting off mega Sparkle O shimmers. "My boyfriend's crazy like that too, and it's so dumb because dark chocolate's good for you."
"I know! Who doesn't love anti-oxidants?"
"Amazing how much we have in common." Her voice shot up to a soprano level, but then she sobered. She narrowed her eyes into freaky slits and clenched her jaw. "Wait a minute. Your boyfriend hates highlights and chocolate too?"
"Sadly, yes."
"That's awfully coincidental." Her gaze could have burned through my epidermis. "Is this some cheaters' reality TV show? Are you going to tell me you're having an affair with my boyfriend?"
What? Where did my long lost sister go?
"I don't even know who your boyfriend is. I'm dating Dr. Floyd Fowler." I stepped back and wondered about her emotional stability. "He lives in Maryland, and so do I."
"That explains why you're so pale."
Nice. The bronze hue of her skin extended way beyond Sparkle O's Goddess Bronzer, which told me she wouldn't b
e keen on a sun-avoidance lecture.
"Floyd Fowler, huh?" she asked.
"The one and only."
"His name's so dorky, it almost sounds made up." She gripped the edge of her table and eyed me like a lioness ready to launch a vicious attack.
I didn't like this predatory side of her. "I can't help what his mother named him."
Her expression softened some, but suspicion still clouded her eyes. "You swear on Sparkle O you're dating Floyd?"
"Yes. And as a fellow Sparkle O girl, you know I wouldn't lie." Lying was against our core beliefs.
"Sorry." She let out a breath and stretched her neck side-to-side. "My boyfriend and I are having some problems, so I get a little worked up."
"I understand." And truly, I did. My break-up-stye worry required a perpetual supply of dark chocolate almond clusters.
"You're both doctors?"
"We met in school." I was glad we were back on track, but our fun Sparkle O connection seemed tainted.
"Did you guys get your doctors of divinity at Higher Power Online University?"
I wasn't even sure what that degree was, nor had I heard of that college before. "No, we're both naturopathic doctors."
Her corneal suspicion intensified. "I thought the only doctors allowed in here were supposed to be PhDs in divine studies or metaphysics. How'd you get into this show?"
What a bizarre question. "I filled out the application and paid the registration fee."
"What'd you put for your profession when you registered?"
What had I listed? Then I remembered. "I'm not sure because my great auntie-slash-assistant signed up for me."
"You make your great aunt work for you?" Her tone held a barb of accusation.
"Hardly." I laughed because no one made Aunt Alfa do anything. "She loves working and has her own line of essential oils and herbs. She's been an aromatherapist and herbalist for more than seventy years."
Vesta scrunched her platinum eyebrows. "How old is she?"
"Just turned ninety-one. And until last year, she had her own practice in Pennsylvania. She tried to retire in Florida, but it didn't work out."
Retirement wasn't easy when your only life savings was an essential oil collection.
"Well, I hope you don't get in trouble." She turned around, dismissing me. But then she must have had second thoughts because she picked up an oversized stack of tarot cards and held them up for my inspection. "This is my brand new Goddess deck. Isn't it gorgeous?"
"Pretty artwork." A curvy woman with hair like an ebony river adorned the card.
"You want a reading? I'll give you a Sparkle O discount." She locked eyes with me. "Five dollars off."
I know she was trying to be nice, and maybe even compensate for her behavior, but a tarot reading didn't interest me. "Thanks, but I'm afraid I don't have time."
I hoped I sounded sincere. The last thing I wanted was a jealous vegan vixen after me.
KILLER KUNG PAO
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