Kelsey Roberts - Undying Laughter

“Destiny, baby, I’m sorry,” David soothed. “We’ll find out who’s pulling this garbage. I know it scares you, but I’m sure it’s just some sicko getting his jollies.”

“Do we need your permission to look into all this?” Wes asked.

“Hang on,” Destiny said to Wesley. “I’m the one who makes that decision. Try asking me.” She stepped away from her manager.

“Fine.” Wesley shrugged as he spoke. “Dylan has already done some preliminary work, which is why we came by at this late hour.”

“Preliminary work?” she repeated. “What kind of preliminary work?”

“He made a few calls about Greg Miller, your detective.”

Destiny met Wesley’s eyes. “I wish I had known that. I’d like to ask that incompetent for my money back.”

“That would be rather difficult,” Wesley said.

“Bankrupt?” Destiny sighed as she lowered her gaze. Lord knew she’d watched her father file under one chapter or another through the years.

“Not exactly,” Wes said as he moved to stand directly in front of her.

His tall body blocked her view of the others in the room. Gently he placed his thumb under her chin and applied just enough pressure to force her to meet his eyes. For what felt like an eternity, Wesley searched her face, his eyes roaming over every feature. She held her breath, somehow sensing that whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to be good news. She was right.

“Greg Miller was found shot to death two weeks before you received that invoice.”

Destiny was still shaken by the news long after Dylan and Wesley had gone. She was also confused by the uncharacteristic behavior of the two individuals whom she considered her closest friends.

After Dylan and Wesley left, David explained that he had come crashing into the villa because he’d heard her scream from his room two doors down.

“Don’t ever go into law enforcement,” she teased him. “Not if it takes you the better part of a half hour to respond to what you think might be a crisis situation.”

David blushed slightly. “I wasn’t dressed,” he defended lamely.

“Neither was I,” Destiny said, closing her eyes at the memory.

“Those two just showed up here?”

“Right on the first guess.” She sighed. “I certainly didn’t invite them.”

“I’ll speak to Rose. I’ll tell her we don’t want her kid inter—”

“Please don’t do that,” Destiny interrupted. “And I’d hardly call Dr. Porter a kid.”

“Then why does he still live with his mommy?” David retorted snidely.

Destiny regarded him for a long, quiet moment. He was really angry. Obviously he hadn’t yet forgiven her for choosing the beach over the city.

Glancing up at the clock, she almost let out a groan when she noted it was nearly two in the morning. This was supposed to be the night she caught up on lost sleep. Instead, she knew she was destined to try salving David’s rumpled feathers yet one more time.

Gee, she thought glibly to herself, then I can wait a few hours and have my mother screeching in my ear for not following her directive.

* * *

HER PREDICTION PROVED true when she got “the call” at precisely 8:45 the next morning.

And also true to form, Mona was furious. “Why is Carl still in jail?”

“Because he broke the law in some small town in Georgia?” Destiny asked sweetly, cringing when she heard the irritated sigh come across the line.

“I told your girl to have you handle it immediately.”

“Gina isn’t my girl,” Destiny corrected gently. How could her mother have gone from Woodstock to snob in just one lifetime? she wondered not for the first time. “I got in late, but I plan to take care of the fine first thing.”

“How could you have left him in some small town jail for the night?”

“I doubt he noticed,” Destiny assured her mother. “They’ll probably have to perform CPR just to get him out of the cell.”

“Is everything a joke with you?” Mona asked.

Destiny heard the rustle of fabric and knew her mother was pulling on her judicial robes as the conversation progressed.

“I wasn’t joking,” Destiny promised her mother in a more respectful tone. “The charge was drunk and disorderly. If he’d been tossed out last night, before some of the alcohol wore off, I was afraid of what might happen.”

Mona was silent for a second. “I suppose that was one way of handling it. But next time I’ll consider calling Peace. Even though your sister and her husband struggle for every cent they have. Children are expensive.”

“And Peace ought to know. That must be some kind of record, four kids in five years?”

“Your sister understands the importance of family.”

“My sister needs to get a VCR or find some other way to spend her evenings.”

“My clerk is calling,” Mona told her in clipped syllables that fully and completely conveyed her disappointment in her firstborn child. “Can I count on you to handle this situation?”

“Of course you can,” Destiny told her. “Have I ever let you down? Wait!” she quickly amended. “Don’t answer that. Love you, bye.”

“How is her royal nastiness?” Gina asked.

Destiny shrugged, sure her friend had heard enough of the conversation to understand the status quo between mother and daughter was basically the same.

“You look exhausted,” Gina commented. “Do you want coffee now or do you want to try and get some more sleep?”

Placing her fingers over her tired eyes, Destiny knew returning to sleep wasn’t a possibility. Visions of Wesley Porter had haunted her dreams, leaving her feeling oddly lonely in the first light of day. Her dreams, like most everything else about her, tended to be bold and vivid. The resplendent images of being locked in his strong arms had awakened her on more than one occasion during the night.

“Probably best if I start the day,” she said as her feet hit the floor. “I sure hope my mother’s call won’t set the tone for the day.”

“Maybe that cute doctor will find another lame excuse to drop in.”

She looked up to find Gina staring at her, one brow arched toward her neat French twist.

“Meaning?”

“Are you telling me you aren’t attracted to him?”

“I don’t even know him,” she said as she pulled on her robe.

“What’s to know? The guy’s gorgeous, friendly—seems like the perfect material for a short-term fling.”

“I don’t have short-term flings.”

“Well,” Gina persisted, “maybe it’s about time for one.”

“It’s career time,” Destiny insisted. “Once I’ve established myself, then I can think about a husband and a family.”

Feeling Gina’s hand on her shoulder, Destiny looked up into the sad, chocolate-colored eyes. “I didn’t suggest anything permanent, necessarily. But don’t keep kidding yourself, Destiny. You’re counting on a future. Futures change. I’m an expert on the subject.”

* * *

SLIPPING HIS GLASSES from the bridge of his nose, Wesley surveyed the flurry of activity from the shadows near the door. An appreciative smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he admired her from a distance. That woman didn’t need stage paint and glitter. “And she sure as hell doesn’t wash out,” he muttered.

“No, she sure doesn’t.”

“Hello,” he said, tearing his gaze from the stage and glancing in his mother’s general direction.

“Is everything all right?”

“I guess.” Clipping his glasses into the front of his shirt, he allowed his eyes to travel back to the small woman cradling the microphone.

“I thought you were supposed to be studying,” Rose observed.