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It was never going to be what she imagined in her head.
Which was fine.
But then came the real kicker.
No. No. No. No. No.
This could not be happening.
No. No. No. No. No.
“I’m sick, Kalista. I may also be dying.”
“No. Just no,” Kalista cried, as if repeating the word,nowould magically erase what she was looking at.
Their beautiful swan, their town’s treasure, their favorite darling, was hugging her toilet like a clingy lover, her stunning blond hair concealing her face as she puked into the toilet. This was an hour before she was supposed to dance for three billionaires.
Kalista kneeled beside her and lifted her hair away from her face.
“Oh no,” Kalista said when she looked into her friend’s eyes. Her usually stunningly soft complexion was pale and pallid. Her lips were cracked, and her eyes were sunken.
Fuck.
“I’m so sorry, Kally.”
“What? No. Don’t say that. Come on, let’s get you up into bed and hydrated.”
“The show?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Kalista said as she snagged a couple of wet wipes from Celeste’s vanity and wiped her friend’s face with them. She then helped her into bed, took another blanket from her closet, and draped it over Celeste, who had started to shiver. Kalista then turned up the air conditioning, making it warmer, and went in search of things to drink in the kitchen.
Her first priority was to make sure her friend was comfortable and on the road to a quick recovery.
Poor Celeste.
She probably caught something from Doug at the events meeting. He had been sniffling away with a cold. Kalista was quite surprised she didn’t catch anything because usually if something was going around, she seemed to make it a point to host the virus as well—she was overly zealous that way.
Maybe her stress levels were so high that they had eaten up the virus as well. Whatever the reasons, she was glad for them since she had some major damage control to do. What in freaking Bloomings Tide was she going to do? As the reality of the situation started to dawn on her, a pit drenched with panic engulfed her.
She didn’t take a freaking hard spanking for a do-over for nothing. But that was the case. It was over.
She made some tea with lemon, cinnamon, and extra honey, then filled two bottles—one with water and the other with orange juice.
“Kally, you have to do it.” Celeste was already losing her voice.
“Do what?”
“Dance. You have to dance. They’ll love you even more.”
“You want me to dance—” But then the thought took hold. She and Celeste were the same height. Sure, Celeste’s body was toned and muscular, but they weighed around the same as well.
If she covered her hair and wore a mask, she could actually pull it off. Okay, there was no way she could dance like Celeste. Never mind dancing around a pole. But even if she just stood there and swayed her hips, that would be enough because all they needed to do was believe that it was Celeste on stage because she had already won them over when she met them at the impromptu backyard dinner.
It was brilliant.
Even they knew they couldn’t just give them the award after meeting Celeste because there was a degree of formality involved. And it didn’t matter if the stage was spectacular or not—it wasn’t—or whether everyone knew their lines—they didn’t—this was just a formality.
Celeste won the award for them the minute they touched her hand when they were introduced.
