“It was nice to meet you Hope. See ya in a couple of weeks.” Brad shook my hand again.
I couldn’t wait to get out there. I drove straight home and immediately opened a fresh bottle of Pinot Grigio. Forget glasses. I drank straight from the bottle.
The next morning my phone rang at five o’clock. It was the hospital calling to let me know my seven o’clock surgery had been cancelled. My patient had the flu, so her hysterectomy had to be postponed. The cancellation opened up my morning, since that was the only surgery I had scheduled.
I decided to take a well-deserved shopping trip. Since I didn’t have to be in the office until after lunch, I took my time getting ready.
After dressing in a pair of Lucky Brand distressed jeans with a BCBG beige sequined silk tunic and ballet flats, I got into the Cayenne and headed for Rodeo Drive. My cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. PRIVATE CALLER. I ignored the call. If it’s an emergency, the office will handle it, I thought.
I pulled into valet parking and took a private elevator into Jimmy Choo, my favorite shoe store of all time. As soon as I stepped into the lavish boutique, I breathed in the luscious smell of leather. It was intoxicating. Clara, the sales associate who always waited on me, greeted me cheerfully. “Hope. So good to see you. Wait till you see what we got in yesterday!”
My passion is shoes. I had a special closet built in my house just for my collection of hundreds of shoes.
“Blue, strappy, three-inch heels with python inlay,” Clara said as she held up a gorgeous pair.
I tried them on and loved the way they felt on my feet. “What other colors do they come in?”
“Sunset – which is a pale orange, and Harlequin – which is beautiful yellow-green color. I’ll get them for you.”
My cell phone rang again. This time I picked it up when I saw who the caller was. Venus.
“Are you busy with patients?” Venus asked, before I could even say hello.
“No. My surgery was cancelled, so I took the morning off. I’m indulging in retail therapy.”
“Uh, huh. Didn’t things go well with Dr. Whitford?”
“Long story.”
“Why don’t you come by for dinner tonight? Mr. Vanderbilt is having dinner with clients. Mabel could cook up some steaks and macaroni and cheese before she leaves today.”
Mabel was Venus’s chef from southern Georgia and made the best comfort food ever. I salivated at the thought of her delicious steaks and creamy mac and cheese.
I didn’t have to think twice. “Sure.”
Clara came back from the stock room with an armful of beautiful, beige shoe boxes. My heart skipped a beat. “Look I gotta go. See ya tonight.”
“Sure. Around seven.”
I bought the strappy sandals in all three colors plus two handbags from the new fall collection. I was paying for the purchases when my cell phone rang again.
PRIVATE CALLER.
I ignored it again. Telemarketers, probably. They always got my number, no matter how many times I changed it. If it was an emergency, the office would call me.
I walked out of Jimmy Choo feeling good and headed over to La Perla. I needed some new bras.
My phone rang again. PRIVATE CALLER. I ignored it again. It kept ringing, over and over.
Dammit. I answered the call.
“Dr. Hope Love.”
“Dr. Love. Thank God. It’s Janessa Myers. I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”
“Hello, Janessa.” I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice as I wondered how she got my number. The office was strictly forbidden from giving out my cell phone number. They only called me for emergencies.
Janessa Myers was an up-and-coming actress who had gotten her start in Lifetime movies and was now a regular on
Days of Our Lives
. She was also a high maintenance patient and a hypochondriac, who called my office every time she sneezed or had a cough. I kept referring her to a family physician for her common ailments, but she wanted to see only me.
“I need you to come over right away.” She sounded out of breath.
“Janessa, you can make an appointment with my office.” I struggled to keep my tone neutral. “I’ll be in later this afternoon and will have the office squeeze you in.”
“No, you don’t understand. I need you to come over now. Please, it’s an emergency.”
So much for retail therapy. Janessa’s house was on the way to the office and it would be easier to deal with her there. So I relented.
“Okay. Give me twenty minutes.” I was glad I’d taken the psychiatry rotation during residency. The training came in handy when dealing with the drama. Janessa had probably stubbed her toe or something.
I drove up to the gated residence and announced myself on the speaker box. The wide gates swung open and I crept up the circular drive and parked my Cayenne out front.
As I walked to the door, I could hear the annoying yap of Janessa’s Chihuahua, Lulu. The bark was a typical greeting of any household in the Hills.
Janessa opened the door in her pink Juicy tracksuit, her face scrubbed clean, and her trademark red hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Dr. Love, thank God you’re here,” Janessa said, in her Texas twang. Janessa was from Dallas and she’d worked hard with a voice coach to get rid of her accent. But when she was stressed, it came back with a vengeance.
“What’s wrong, Janessa?”
“I think I’m…
pregnant
,” she said, in a whisper.
“Is someone else here?” I glanced into the living room. White pregnancy sticks littered the floor, coffee table, and couch. I made a mental note not to accept any dinner invites to her house.
“Just the maid,” Janessa answered.
I followed her into the living room. “Just how many tests did you take?” I asked, carefully picking up one. It had two pink lines down the test center, indicating a positive result.
“Fifteen, I think,” Janessa said, sheepishly.
“Then I think it’s safe to say that you
are
pregnant,” I said. “But let’s get you into the office and do a proper exam.”
Janessa shook her head. She plopped down on the couch and started crying. “You don’t understand. I can’t have this baby.”
Here we go.
“What’s going on, Janessa?” I sat down next to her.
“I’ve been secretly dating Apollo Ortiz. If the tabloids find out we’re seeing each other, let alone that I’m pregnant with his baby…my career will be over. My father will disown me. I’ll never get another decent acting job.”
I knew that Janessa’s father was some big shot senator from Texas, but I didn’t realize he had such a hold on her. Finding out that you were pregnant, especially when you were single, was daunting enough. But Janessa was taking this too far.
“Janessa, you’re a grown woman. You make your own choices. Plenty of single, successful actresses have had babies and their careers didn’t suffer. Plenty of soap opera actresses work while they’re pregnant. Some even work their pregnancies into the story line. And as far as whom the father is, that’s up to you, whether or not you want to announce that.”
Apollo Ortiz was a hot, young, up-and-coming Latino actor who’d starred in several small films. Why a relationship with him would affect her career – I had no idea.
I got up and found a tissue box in the guest bath. I handed one to Janessa. She blew her nose loudly.
“Thanks for coming by, Dr. Love.”
“Look, Janessa. Don’t make any major decisions right now. Come by my office on Monday and we’ll do an exam, then we’ll talk. Okay?”
She nodded her head.
“Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out. Relax this weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Just another day in the life of Hollywood Hills, I thought as I headed back to the office.
I rang the doorbell and waited on the portico with a bottle of very expensive red wine in one hand and my new Jimmy Choo handbag in the other. I also wore the matching Harlequin shoes and a cerulean blue Betsey Johnson sundress.
Venus answered the door looking lovely as usual wearing a dress from XOXO that I had recently admired on a fashion blog. I could’ve sworn that dress hadn’t come out yet. I think Venus has every hip fashion designer on speed dial.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late. Crazy day at work.” I handed Venus the bottle of wine.
“Come on in. No worries. I have the steaks warming in the oven,” she said, as I followed her into the massive kitchen. “We’ll open this first and have some nibbles.”
I hadn’t had lunch and was famished. Venus had a nice spread of brie cheese covered with raspberry jam surrounded by crackers and red grapes. I helped myself to the delicious goodies.
“So, how did it go with the scrumptious Dr. Whitford?” Venus handed me a huge glass of wine.
“Brad? He’s okay.” I took a gulp, looked up at her inquisitive eyes, and then took another gulp.
“That’s it. Just, he’s okay?”
“Yep. We
’
ll see how long he lasts. Those women will run right over him. I give him three months, tops.”
“Hmmm. He is a nice-looking guy, though. Very charming.”
“When did you meet him?” I reached for another cracker and smeared it with a generous helping of raspberry Brie.
“Mr. Vanderbilt brought him by after showing houses yesterday. He was quite the gentleman. Very polite, which I think is rare these days.”
“Well, I’m not interested. He’s not my type.”
“Who is your type? Not Jonathan Morro?”
Jonathan Morro was my last boyfriend. He’s a pop singer with a folksy sound. He has a reputation as a lady killer with a huge ego. While he was dating me, he was also seeing pop star Jessica Blakely behind my back and who knows how many other women. Snake.
“No. Jonathan was a weak moment. Besides even though we dated – and I use that term loosely – for six months, I saw him about four times in those six months. The rest of the time he was seeing Jessica and who knows who else.”
“Right. So you and Brad have two things in common.” Venus took the steaks out of the oven. They were sizzling with caramelized onions and mushrooms. The smell was heavenly.
“What’s that?”
“For one, you’re both workaholics. And two, you’re both Cancer signs.”
Leave it to Venus to know Brad’s birthday. She’s big on astrology and believes in dating within your sign.
“What am I waiting for, then? We should get married right away. He’s a Cancer sign. It’s a perfect match.” I clapped my hands together.
Venus put the steaks and homemade mac and cheese on plates and carried it to the outside terrace. Her ten-thousand-square-foot mansion had fabulous views of the city. The sun was setting in brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow. It was a fabulous way to cap off the day.
“Okay, Ms. Smarty Pants. Let’s eat.”
I swear I’d never tasted a steak that good in my life. I didn’t need a knife. The steak was so tender it cut through like butter with my fork.
“Oh my goodness, this is sooo yummy. What does Mabel do to these steaks?”