Impossible Glamour Page 5

  I bit my bottom lip. The lump in my throat grew bigger. I glanced at my colleagues. Yep. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling this moment. Even Kazowski, whom I was pretty certain had donated her own heart to the organ-transplant program, looked as though her smile was tight as pain sliced through her eyes.

  “And what is this guy’s name?” Kazowski asked and reached out her hand to pet the golden.

  “Xander,” Mark said.

  She smiled. She looked at Dillon. “Mr. MacAvoy, it looks like you’ve made another great match. I’ve been Mark’s doctor for a long while, and he is a responsible young man with a huge heart. I know he’ll take great care of Xander.”

  Mark’s mom pressed her fingertips to her mouth and turned her head into her husband’s arm.

  Yeah. How to hold it together? I didn’t know. I clamped my lips together, my gaze trailing from Mark, Dillon, and then to Webber. He stood on the other side of Dillon at the head of the bed. His gaze locked with mine. My eyes widened. I shook my head, begging, no pleading, with my eyes, that Webzie please, please, please—

  “Hey, is that a Legend back there?”

  My heart toppled to my toes. Nope. Webber had no discretion or sense of decorum. To him, any publicity was good and that included calling me out at the most inappropriate time and in front of a doctor who seemed to loathe my famous family.

  Dillon turned away from Kazowski. “Hey, Ellen.” He stepped forward and through my classmates who might die from sensory overload due to the nearness of one of the biggest celebrities on the planet. He clasped me into a big hug. “I didn’t know this was part of med school.”

  I nodded. “Please,” I whispered into his ear, “don’t make a big deal.” He pulled back and his gaze caught mine. Dillon got it. He was a little bit more tuned in to other people’s needs than the Webzie.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered. He turned his back to me and focused on Kazowski. “Dr. Kazowski, thank you. This program has everything to do with your saying yes and letting us expand to UCLA.”

  Kazowski puffed up a little in front of everyone in the room.

  “We’ll get out of your way. Mark, you’ve got my number,” Dillon said. “You call me anytime you have any questions about taking care of Xander. I know he’s found an awesome home with you.”

  The boy, whose little body was failing, still had a whole lot of love to give. He grinned from ear to ear. “Thanks, Dillon. I’ll take good care of him.” His little hand stroked the side of Xander. The dog turned and licked Mark’s fingers.

  “I know you will.” Dillon nodded to Mark’s parents. “Webber, let’s give these doctors some room to do their thing.”

  Dillon turned toward the door and Webber followed. He stopped just in front of Kazowski. Please Webber, no, no, no…

  “You’re Dr. Kazowski?” Webber asked.

  Kazowski’s brow arched. I recognized that look because she often shot it my way. “I am.”

  “Wow, just wow. Ellen raves about you and what an amazing physician you are. This little guy has the best doc in the world, and these brainiacs”—Webber hitched his thumb toward all of us—“are lucky to learn from you.”

  He jutted out his hand and shook Kazowski’s. Her brows creased as though trying to determine if Webber was for real.

  “Really, I’m honored to meet the best surgeon in the world.”

  Kazowski’s brows slowly unfurrowed as she surmised that Webber was sincere.

  “Ellen”—Webber pointed to me—“see you at the wedding this weekend. Gonna rock that wedding out.” Webber winked and followed Dillon out of the room.

  I forced a smile onto my face. Every eye was on me. That was pretty low-key for Webber. I looked over at Kazowski. Webber might have just helped me out, because while the look on Kazowski’s face wasn’t exactly one of pleasure, it definitely wasn’t the hard glare I’d grown accustomed to receiving. I bent my head and looked at my notes. Best to try to keep a low profile for the rest of rounds. Just this room, and then for this long tough week I was done. Next week? Well, next week I was on vacation.

  Chapter 5

  Ellen

  “Oh my God!” Choo sauntered into the suite where three makeup artists worked. I sat in the center chair with my half sister, Amanda, to my left and Sophia, my twin, on my right. “We’ve got to get photos of the three Legend girls together. These will be worth more than the pictures of the wedding.” He looked at his assistant, Betty. “Go get Julio.”

  My heart sank to my toes. Not only did I feel as though I wore a tight mask of goop on my face, but this public-private moment wasn’t easy for me. I felt like a fish on a bicycle with the hair, the makeup, and the gown that I knew was next, just as soon as my face was finished. I loved being with Amanda and Sophia, and my two sisters seemed to have started to get along. My twin had mellowed since she’d fallen in love with Trick.

  “T minus ninety minutes, people. Okay? I mean we’re all looking lovely, but it’s go time soon,” Choo said.

  Julio, the famous fashion photog who’d agreed to shoot Choo and Jackson’s wedding, followed Betty into the room.

  “Oh my.” His jaw dropped like he’d just walked into the Sistine Chapel for the first time when he saw the three of us lined up in various stages of prep.

  “I know.” Choo sipped his champagne. “To die for, right?”

  “Anna will wet herself for these.” Julio snapped pics. Of course Sophia turned on her high-watt charm. What was that? How did she do that?

  Amanda had grown up with photogs in her face. The daughter of Steve and Joanna Legend, she’d survived the spotlight her entire life. So this, a little prewedding photography by one of the world’s greatest photographers, didn’t rock her boat.

  Only me and my weird introversion squirmed in front of the camera lens. Nope. Never getting used to feeding the public perception of me and my family’s life. I was content to remain a Delgado and in the shadows while Rhett and Sophia craved the spotlight. Well, they’d gotten it. Big. Time. Now when I was with my famous siblings, I covered my eyes in the glare.

  “Beautiful. Beautiful. Ellen, darling, tilt your head to the left. Yes. That’s it.” Julio clicked. He pulled the camera away from his face and walked to Choo. He was discussing me and my discomfort in front of the camera. Yes, this conversation had happened before today. When people started waving cameras around me, my color faded and I usually looked ready to puke. I didn’t have the time or the patience to try to cure this problem. I didn’t want a public life.

  “Miss Legend, would you come with me?” Betty, Choo’s assistant, was his girl Friday for the wedding. She’d managed scheduling, logistics, and now dressing Choo’s wedding party.

  I followed Betty into the dressing room. Dress time. The final piece in my discomfort. She handed me an undergarment that was predominately latex with a bit of lace. The rubber slapped against my skin. I yanked the girdle up and over my thighs. The bra was a lace concoction that made my C cup look even more gigantic. Really? How much boob did one gay man need in his wedding party? Garters? Okay, seriously? Choo wasn’t even interested in what I had on under my dress, so why did I have roll-up stockings and garters with hooks?

  “Mr. MacAvoy believes if you feel sexy, you’ll look sexy,” Betty said.

  I quirked my eyebrow. “He must have prepared you for me. I’m the twin in med school.”

  She nodded and smiled and then handed me the other stocking. She lifted the dress from the hanger and stood before me. My bridesmaid dress was silk poufiness that looked like perhaps Choo’d gotten the same wardrobe designer from Gone with the Wind.

  “This skirt seems bigger than what I tried on at the last fitting.”

  “Mr. MacAvoy decided to increase skirt volume.”

  “Of course he did.” I stepped into the dress.

  Betty walked behind me and began to button me. “You’ll need to exhale,” she said. I let out all the air in my chest and said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d failed to eat breakfa
st that morning, because one ounce of food in my stomach and I wasn’t fitting into this dress.

  “Turn around please.”

  I turned and looked into the mirror.

  My heart beat fast. How could this be? How could hair, and makeup, and an outrageously expensive gown turn a tired-looking, run-down third-year med student into a princess in a fairy tale?

  “You look exquisite,” Betty whispered.

  “Thank you.” I bent to pick up my scrubs and old ratty UCLA T-shirt.

  “I’ll get your things.”

  I slipped my phone from my scrubs pocket. Even I could acknowledge that I looked glam and beautiful. The thing was, when I looked like this, I didn’t feel like me. I felt like a little girl playing dress-up. I exited the dressing room and everyone turned to me.

  Eyes widened, Julio stopped taking pictures of Sophia. I caught my twin’s eye and I saw her fighting the green monster, still trying to tame that beast. I’d hoped that with Sophia firmly in the spotlight as an A-lister that any jealousy she felt toward me would finally be gone. I didn’t want to be the beautiful twin. She had her role and I had mine. She was gorgeous and I was smart.

  “Miss Sophia, you’re next,” Betty said.

  Sophia stood. She looked over at me. “Ellen, you look beautiful.” She meant it. In her heart, in her eyes, I knew, I could feel it to my core that Sophia didn’t want to be jealous of me. We were sisters. We loved each other.

  “Thanks, Soph.”

  “Here, baby.” Choo held out a glass of champagne. Of course. A perfect relaxant.

  I reached for the glass. Why not? This was a wedding. I had to get through the photography, and I was officially on spring break. Off for a full ten days. No lab reports. No tests. No Kazowski.

  In my palm, my phone rang. I flipped it over.

  A tingle shot to my fingertips and toes. My blood pressure skyrocketed.

  Kazowski.

  My heart plummeted. Today was Saturday. Why was I getting a call from my teaching physician on a Saturday? In theory I could press the red button, but I didn’t because pressing the red button to decline Kazowski’s call went against everything upon which I’d built my life. My goal was to be the best damned medical student at my school so I could become the best damned physician.

  I pressed the green button. “Hello, Dr. Kazowski.”

  “Miss Legend.”

  Her voice was cool, crisp, and with the slightest hint of superiority. Who was I kidding, she sounded like an A-lister complaining about green M&M’s.

  “Where are the Bokencamp labs?”

  No “Sorry to bother you on a Saturday.” No “I apologize for interrupting.” No “Do you have a moment?” Just a cold, hard question for which I had no response.

  “I don’t know,” I said and cringed. I’d not been assigned the Bokencamp labs. Tarsem, another third-year in my class, was assigned to complete the Bokencamp labs. I knew this because I knew everything. I kept track of not only what I was assigned to complete for Kazowski’s patients but what my classmates were assigned to do as well.

  “Miss Legend, do you value this rotation?”

  My heart throttled up into my throat. “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Then I suggest you find me the Bokencamp labs and that you get them to me. Now.” The line went dead.

  A buzzing sound clamored in my ears. How? What? An elephant sat on my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. Did I value my rotation? Get them to her now? My gaze dropped to the gorgeous gown I wore. How? How the hell did I get the labs to Kazowski now? I was supposed to be a bridesmaid in a wedding in little over an hour. I scrolled through my contact list and dialed Tarsem’s number. No answer. Of course not. Today was Saturday and spring break, why would anyone be stupid enough to answer a call?

  I turned to Choo. “I have to go.”

  Sophia stopped in her tracks just outside the dressing room door. “What?” She looked at me as though I’d just spilled red wine on Chanel couture.

  Amanda didn’t say anything, but she did tilt her head to the side.

  “That was my teaching physician for this rotation, and she needs something now. I have to go.” I dashed across the room. I stopped in front of Choo, my eyes imploring him to understand. “Please, I don’t want to go. I have to go. This is—”

  “Babe, you don’t need to explain.” Choo smiled, but there was a sad look in his eyes. “Go. Get back when you can. This is what happens when you have the brains to save the world.”

  I smiled at my friend. “Thank you. I’ll get back as fast as I can.”

  *

  The Uber driver screeched to a halt outside the doctor’s entrance at UCLA Med Center, and I gave him an extra twenty. Getting me from Malibu to Westwood that fast was a miracle. I hopped out of the car, yanked my giant skirt into my hand, and dashed into the hospital. No sweating. No sweating. My hair was already in its updo and shellacked with hairspray. I tore down the hall as fast as high heels and a ball gown would allow and trotted down the stairs to the lab.

  I stopped in front of the window. “I need the Bokencamp labs,” I said. My phone beeped. Finally a text from Tarsem. He was en route to London to visit his family, with a layover in New York. I read the lab numbers from the text.

  The lab tech popped her gum and gave me a bored look. She was completely unfazed that I looked as though I’d stepped off the cover of Brides magazine. She slowly stood and walked toward a cabinet, pulled a file, came back, and slid it under the window partition.

  “Thanks.” I raced down the hall and slid into the elevator.

  Dean Talbot held the door. “Miss Legend, you’re looking awfully formal to be delivering lab work.”

  A man, close to her age, stood beside her. They seemed to be together. I adored Dean Talbot. She was the antithesis of Dr. Kazowski.

  “Wedding today,” I said. “But Dr. Kazowski needs lab work.” The elevator dinged on my floor and I dashed out. “Bye!” I called, leaving a stunned Dean Talbot and her companion in the elevator.

  I stopped in front of the doctors lounge door. Deep breath. I pressed my fingertips to my brow. Grasped the folder with the labs. Straightened my spine and entered the room. Kazowski sat on the couch with her feet propped up on the end table. She spooned FroYo into her mouth and watched a rerun of Modern Family playing on the flat-screen across the room.

  “I have the lab reports you wanted, Dr. Kazowski.”

  She nodded her head but didn’t meet my gaze.

  I set the reports on the table. “Is there anything else you need?”

  Finally she glanced up at me. Her eyes appraised my hair, my makeup, my dress. Her mouth curved up into a smile.

  “Oh, right. Aren’t you supposed to be in some kind of celebrity wedding today?”

  “A close friend is marrying today; however, he is not a celebrity. Nor am I.”

  “Hmm.” She glanced at the clock above the TV. “Malibu by five I’m guessing?”

  My stomach clutched. I could lay into her. I could yell and stomp my feet, but that would only get me an immediate emotional release with all kinds of negative repercussions for the rest of this rotation. Nope. Not worth it. “Dr. Kazowski, is there anything else before I go?”

  She shook her head and took another bite of her yogurt. “Nope.”

  I walked toward the door. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of watching me rush. My hand clasped the cool metal of the doorknob.

  “Funny,” Kazowski called from her place on the couch. “I thought Tarsem was responsible for this lab work. He did a really good job working this case up.”

  The enamel of my teeth ground together. I walked out of the doctors lounge, careful not to snag the flowing periwinkle silk of my gown in the door.

  *

  “Doll, you ready for this?”

  The “Steve Legend” smile was fixed on his face. “This one is easy, Daddy,” I said. “It’s the next wedding that’ll kill me.”

  The silk of my gown slid beneath my fingertips. D
addy squeezed my arm, and we walked toward the room where Jackson and his groomsmen were holed up. Fifteen more minutes. I took a long, deep breath, thankful I’d made it back in time, even if just barely.

  Once I’d checked in with Choo, I’d left the bridal suite. They didn’t need me and it was too much makeup, too many giggles, too much silliness, and that was everyone but Choo. This wedding, Choo and Jackson’s, would be easy-peasy compared to what I’d endure in nine months’ time. All I had to do for this wedding was show up, get my hair done, and put on a dress.

  But the next one? I looked over my shoulder to where Trick and Sophia now canoodled in the corner. They had their foreheads together, smiling and whispering like two lovesick puppies. Their adoration had been cute…at first. But the two of them had been acting like moonstruck teenagers going on a year.

  “Get a room,” I called in a not-too-quiet voice.

  Sophia shot me a look, but there was a smile attached. Where had my bitchy sister gone? Oh yeah, she’d become the girl next door now that she’d fallen in love with Trick.

  “Daddy, would you mind if I just hung out here for a while? I’ve had enough drama, and the wedding hasn’t even started.”

  “No problem. I’m going in there to kick ass and take names.” He kissed me on the cheek.

  I brought my bouquet of magnolias and gardenias to my nose and took a long, intoxicating breath, then closed my eyes and faced the wall. Calm. Peace. Quiet.

  “Well hello, beautiful lady. I don’t think we’ve met. You’ve probably heard of me. I’m kind of a big deal. I’m Webber. The Webz. Webzie if we’re friends.”

  I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling and spun on my high heels. “Webber, what the hell are you doing?”

  His jaw dropped open and his eyes swept up from the bottom of my dress until his gaze finally landed on my…cleavage.

  “Yo! Webber, eyes up here, buddy.”

  “Uh…uh…Ellen. Yeaaaaah. So sorry, babe, I didn’t recognize you from behind. You’re in a dress. Showered. Not sure I would have recognized you from the front either.” His eyes bounced back to my cleavage. “Yowza! Nope, not at all.” His gaze finally locked with mine. “You are one beautiful woman.” His voice was softer. He sounded a little surprised by his comment. As though my beauty was a revelation.