“She rubs them down with a secret spice mixture, puts them in a plastic bag overnight in the fridge, takes them out the next day, and whispers sweet nothings to them before shoving them in a hot oven to broil for a bit,” Venus said. “Seriously.”
“Mmmm,” I said with my mouth full. “She should call these better-than-sex steaks.”
“I’ll let her know.”
I looked over at Venus’s plate. She had only taken two bites of her food.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve barely eaten anything.”
“I had a big lunch,” Venus said, looking out over the terrace.
I may not have known Venus very long, but I could tell when she was lying.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Mr. Vanderbilt is seeing someone else.”
“What?” That stunned me. I almost choked on a piece of steak.
I couldn’t imagine Mr. Vanderbilt cheating on her. He seemed so…so business-like. Cold. The few times I’ve seen him, he was distant. I never could see why Venus was attracted to him. She was vibrant and outgoing, although a little reserved with her private life. I thought maybe he was just a tiger in the bedroom or something.
“I don’t know who, but I do know that he’s seeing someone.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s been working later hours, never home for dinner. And when he does come home, he heads straight for the shower.” Venus poured us another glass of wine. “His clothes smell of cheap cologne.” She shuddered at the thought.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”
“Hire a private detective.”
“Wow. Here I am going on about my problems with the new doctor and my insane patients, and Mr. Vanderbilt is cheating.”
“It’s okay, darling. It’ll sort itself out. Always does.”
Venus is like that. She has such a good attitude about everything. She’s wise beyond her years. Even though, come to think of it, I have no idea exactly how old she is. I think late forties, but I’m really not sure. Botox is her other best friend.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Venus tapped her well-manicured fingernails on the table. “Give me some dirt on your patients.”
I told her about Hilary asking me to help out with the Heart Ball. What I don’t tell her about is the lump or Janessa’s pregnancy scare. Some things I don’t feel comfortable talking about, not to mention the doctor/patient privilege I’ve got to uphold. I don’t think Venus will say anything, but you never know when something will slip out.
We talked until midnight, when I told Venus that I needed to go home. I finally had a Saturday morning off – unless someone went into labor – and I wanted to go home and sleep in. When I left, Mr. Vanderbilt was still not home.
Saturday morning, the Santa Ana winds were blowing with ferocity. I put on a light sweater and headed to my favorite coffee shop for a bagel and chai latte.
Mr. Beans was crowded and I had to wait in a long line for my caffeine fix. Last night had been awesome. For the first time in a long time, I got a good night’s sleep.
While I waited for my order, I heard someone call my name. It was Aubrey, a patient and family friend. Aubrey is the daughter of Ava Spivey, another close friend of mine. Ava is a high-profile divorce attorney whose clients are the most famous in the business. Despite their wealth, Aubrey is also one of the most caring teenagers I have ever known. She has a heart of gold, which is extremely rare among Hollywood kids.
“Hi Aubrey.”
“Hey Dr. Love. Please sit down.”
“Thanks. I haven’t seen you in a long time. What have you been up to?”
“College. I’m studying fashion design at UCLA.”
“That’s right. I ran into your sister not long ago and she told me you were doing really well.”
“Yeah, I just wrapped up an internship with Jules Tate.”
That was very impressive. Jules Tate was a new, hip designer, and I loved his clothes.
“Awesome. I love his stuff.”
“I’m so glad I ran into you. I was just thinking about you the other day.” Aubrey leaned closer to me. The little café was getting crowded and noisy. “I’m putting together a fashion show next month to benefit breast cancer awareness.”
Aubrey’s aunt had passed away from a rare form of breast cancer. Coming from a close-knit family, it had affected her a lot.
“That’s great, Aubrey.”
“Jules has offered to show some of his samples at the show and loan me a few of his models. I wanted to see if you would make a brief speech about the importance of self-breast exams.”
“Sure, on one condition, though.”
“What?”
“I get to help pick out the models.”
Aubrey laughed and stuck out her hand. “Deal,” she said as we shook on it.
While I listened to all the details of the event, I couldn’t help but think this was the perfect event for Brad to take part in. And I had just the plan for him.
Saturday night made up for my quiet Friday evening. Two of my patients went into labor. So much for the C-section trend. In the last few years, all the movie stars wanted C-sections, because it was easy to plan the birth around their schedules. But now, the trend was back to natural births and all the stars wanted doulas or midwifes – at least until they realized how hard labor was and started screaming for drugs after the first contraction.
I had Chloe Knight in one delivery room and Tara Cranston in the other. The funny thing was that they were fierce rivals on the big screen. Now it seems they would be fierce rivals in the delivery room. Who would deliver her baby first?
“
What’s going on, Candy?
”
I asked the on-duty labor and delivery nurse.
I knew that Chloe wasn
’
t due for another two weeks
–
she had just been in my office on Wednesday for her weekly checkup. Tara had been in labor for the last few hours.
“Chloe is progressing fairly quickly. She’s at seven centimeters and Dr. Soloman just gave her an epidural. Tara’s labor slowed down when she got to six centimeters. She’s been at six for the last couple of hours.”
“Ok, I’ll check both of them out and we’ll go from there.” Tonight would be a long night. I could feel it.
Chloe Knight and Tara Cranston had a long history. Chloe was fairly new on the Hollywood scene. She was your classic how-I-became-an-actress story. She’d moved to California at the age of twenty-one and waited tables to make ends meet while taking acting classes. She’d hit it big with her first movie, and even though it was a minor part, she stole the show. After that, movie scripts poured in, and she had her pick of the best roles. In her third movie she met and fell in love with her co-star, Brett Peterson. The only problem was Brett was married to Tara Cranston.
Tara
has been in the acting business since she was six years old. Her mother, Penelope Cranston, was a well-known soap actress who had been through seven husbands. Tara starred in many movies – mostly feel-good dramas – but had never won any major awards. She was your typical California girl, blonde, tan, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. And she had been married to Hollywood’s most wanted actor, Brett Peterson. His career was sky-rocketing and she stood by his side the whole way. Until Chloe showed up and ruined the party.
Chloe and Brett heated up the big screen with a thriller-romance called
Meet the Johnsons
. Brett denied rumors about a hot and steamy off-camera attraction between the two the day the story hit the tabloids. But two weeks later, he asked Tara for a divorce and within three months he married Chloe.
Tara
felt betrayed and heartbroken. She dated a slew of actors and musicians, but never quite settled down. Now approaching forty, she decided she didn’t need a husband to start a family. She got pregnant with her boyfriend, Nick Phelan, the lead guitarist for Wanted.
Then it was game on. Which Hollywood diva would deliver her child first and score a coveted front page cover on
People
magazine?
I walked into Tara’s room.
“Hi there. How’s it going?”
Tara
was sitting up in bed thumbing through the latest issue of
OK
magazine. Her boyfriend, Nick, was sleeping on the couch.
“Dr. Love, thank goodness.” Tara closed the magazine. “I was doing so well. I went from three to six centimeters in no time. Two hours later, I’m still there.”
“Let me take a look. Sometimes labor will progress fast only to slow down later.”
I examined her. Sure enough, she was still at six.
“We can increase the Pitocin and see if that helps speed things up a bit. I see you got your epidural. Is that helping with pain?”
“Yes. But I’m ready to have this baby. Do whatever you need to get it done.”
I called Candy in to increase her meds. “I’ll check on you later.”
Tara
looked over at Nick to see if he was still sleeping. “Dr. Love, I heard Chloe is here,” she said in a low tone.
I hesitated because I didn’t want to get involved in the middle of any drama between the two of them. I choose my words carefully.
“Yes, I haven’t seen her yet.”
Tara
gently rubbed her stomach and said, “I just want this little one to be healthy. It just irks me that
she
is here delivering the same day as me. What did she do – eat some spicy Mexican food and buy stock in enemas so she could deliver before me? Why does she always have to steal my thunder?”
“You’re doing everything right, Tara. Just relax and let the medicine do its job. Okay?”
The nurse’s station was a buzz of activity. I grabbed a cup of coffee from the break room and relished the hit of caffeine. I finished the coffee in about three gulps and then headed over to Chloe’s room. As usual, I was struck by her exotic beauty. While Tara was a classic beauty and looked like any other California girl, Chloe was exceptionally pretty. Her long dark hair was straight and shiny, her lips were naturally full and pink, and her almond-shaped eyes were emerald green.
Even though I was used to treating high-profile celebrities, I always got tongue-tied around Chloe, like I had a school-girl crush on her. I guess she was used to that. It didn’t seem to faze her when I stumbled over my words. Brett sat by her side, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. He was just as handsome as she was pretty and they made a striking couple.
“Hello, Dr. Love,” Chloe said in her gravelly, famous voice.
“You guys ready to have a baby?”
Brett came up and gave me a hug. He smelled amazingly wonderful and I held on to him a little longer than I should. Chloe was probably used to that, too.
“Ready as ever.”
I checked Chloe and she was already at nine centimeters.
“You’re about ready to push. How’re you feeling?”
“Good. Some pressure, but that’s all.”
“Okay. I’ll be around. Candy will call me when you’re ready to go. It shouldn’t be long now.”