Kylie's Kiss

by Delia Latham

Kylie turned over in bed. She wanted to flop over, but her ribs remained sore enough that she continued to move with slow, careful attention to tender spots.

  Despite the discomfort, she couldn’t stop thinking about the trip to Rick’s ranch. Her mind ticked off a hundred and two possibilities for marketing and promotion. She itched to pull out her computer and start working on them, but she wasn’t sure Rick still wanted her to be a part of things. He hadn’t mentioned it since the night he visited and made his request—and received her less-than-encouraging response. Shay said he’d hired several staff members. Chances were he didn’t need Kylie’s questionable help any longer.

  Besides, she still had doubts about her ability to work with the Looking Glass’s guests. She’d coped with more in this one day without adverse reaction than she had since she’d started having the problem. She pounded her pillow again, settled back onto it, and let herself remember the first time it happened.

  She’d been nineteen, in her second year at Castle Creek Community College. Shay had departed for greener pastures three months earlier, and Kylie had yet to miss her. What was there to miss? Criticism? Ridicule? Disparagement? She could do without those things, and life was pretty good minus her sister’s company. She couldn’t quite think she never wanted to see Shay again, but for the time being she didn’t bemoan her absence. She had only her mother from which to field barbs of criticism, and since Kylie had recently moved into her first apartment, it was easy to control the frequency of that unpleasant chore.

  Dayna was in the process of building a clientele at Tipz and Tanz, and expecting Eva Kate any day. Busy and bodily awkward, she wasn’t open to many activities in the evenings, which left Kylie pretty much at loose ends in the few hours outside classes and her part-time job as a file clerk.

  So she did the unthinkable. When a pleasant young man from the mail room asked her out, she accepted, despite her determination not to get involved with co-workers. But she could enjoy one date without getting involved, and she had nothing better to do.

  She had noticed Pete before, as had all the young women in the office. Not exceptionally tall, but olive-skinned and almost too handsome, he had the uncommon quality of also being a nice guy—thoughtful, kind, and not full of himself. Kylie looked forward to their night out.

  Until, sitting across the table from him in a local restaurant, she noticed something on his right cheek. A small zit, barely there. And she couldn’t stop noticing it. Even as she watched, it grew…and grew…which was, of course, just a figment of her over-active imagination. But knowing that didn’t help. Before the meal ended, she was forced to excuse herself, dash to the ladies room, and empty her stomach.

  Pete took her home—solicitous to the last good-bye. And it was the last good-bye. Poor guy never knew why Kylie refused his every invitation after that. Even when the silly pimple was long gone, she couldn’t look at him and not see it, like a disgusting little ghost, taunting her from a tanned cheek without a single flaw.

  The problem escalated from that time forward. For a while, she thought she might be losing her mind, along with a good number of her meals. Her social sciences instructor cut himself while shaving one morning. After fixating on the abrasion, which still oozed tiny droplets of blood, Kylie hastily departed his class about a quarter hour into it, barely reaching a suitable location in which to lose her breakfast.

  A few days later, on a rare shopping trip with Dayna, the two of them stood in line behind an unfortunate woman whose round-faced profile revealed a large, black mole on one cheek. Long, dark hairs curled out of it, which did nothing to enhance its appearance. Dayna raised her fancy waxed brows and grimaced, which probably hit the scale of acceptable behavior on a level of low to zero. Still, that reaction paled in comparison to Kylie’s—she slapped a hand over her mouth, left her purchases in the basket and dashed out the front door to be sick in the shrubbery. She had no time to seek out the restroom at the back of the store.

  Embarrassed by what she considered her own superficiality, she refused to share with Dayna what brought on her sudden attack of nausea.

  As time progressed, she learned to manage the strange problem by avoiding facial flaws. Loss of limbs didn’t bother her, other than the expected sympathetic reaction most people experienced. Burns and scarring on hands, arms, legs…no problem. Just the face. Even slight imperfections overcame her.

  Until today.

  She had looked at a wound on her own face in the mirror and barely flinched. And Lea…all she saw in that little girl was her beauty and her innocence. She loved her from the first glimpse of that breathtaking smile. And the scars? She saw them, but they didn’t overwhelm her.

  Why ? With a frustrated sigh, she flopped over on her other side, then groaned when her tender ribs protested.

  First thing in the morning, she would call Noni.

  ****

  “You faced your biggest fear—your own disfigurement.” Noni rounded her desk and joined her on the sofa in her office after hearing Kylie’s account of her day at Looking Glass Ranch. “I think you might have unlocked the door to freedom from this thing. With that fear behind you, your phobia has nothing to feed on. It will eventually be nothing more than a memory.”

  “Are you serious?” Kylie found it hard to believe a cure could happen so easily. “But…Lea. I can’t believe I handled her disfigurement without so much as blinking. Noni, that little girl’s face…one side of it is…” She pulled in a hard breath and released it. “Well, it’s unimaginable—especially considering the utter perfection of the opposite side. And yet, within seconds of meeting her, those scars disappeared for me. They weren’t even there.”

  “Well, I think you fell in love with Rick’s child. Love makes all things beautiful, you know.” She squeezed Kylie’s hand. “I’m so proud of you, Kylie. This is an amazing breakthrough.”

  Kylie shook her head, still stunned by the therapist’s simple explanation. “I know it is. I’m thrilled, and yet…I’m afraid to trust it. What if it comes back?”

  Noni shrugged. “You may suffer a setback now and then. I recommend you continue the immersion sessions, at least for a while. And I know you won’t like this, but I want you to face yourself in the mirror every day—no, make that three times a day—and really look at that scar over your eye.” She chuckled, studying Kylie’s face. “If that’s what you want to call it. It follows the line of your eyebrow so well it’s almost invisible.”

  “Not to me.” Kylie still saw the thin scar as a gaping wound. The redness had dissipated, leaving a thin white line. While it curved above her eyebrow in almost perfect symmetry, its paleness contrasted sharply with that dark brow and her lightly tanned skin. While it didn’t make her ill, it did stand out like a neon light, at least in her own estimation.

  Noni patted her hand. “All in good time, my dear. You’ve made incredible strides already. I’m sure your recovery will be complete in no time at all.”

  Kylie squirmed, bit her lip, and lowered her gaze. “Noni, I—” She hesitated.

  “What?” The older woman frowned. “Kylie, is something wrong?”

  “Kind of.” She attempted to laugh, but failed miserably. “Look, I owe you an apology. I’m so embarrassed by my behavior in the hospital. Picking up that phone to call you this morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She chuckled. “I guess I’m just not good at facing things, period, am I?”

  Noni’s laughter was genuine. She scooted close and pulled Kylie into a warm hug. “Honey, your behavior was mild compared to what I’ve seen and heard from some patients. You are not to give it another thought—and that’s doctor’s orders, do you hear me?”

  Kylie nodded. “I do. I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”

  She stood, picked up her handbag, and hooked it over her shoulder. “And now, I’m off to Solomon’s Gate.” She quirked an eyebrow at the grinning psychiatrist. “If you feel like saying a prayer, I could use one. Destiny may not be as forgiving as you’ve been.”<
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  “I think you’ll find her quite happy to see you, my dear.” Noni stood and waved a hand toward the door. “Off with you, now. Get out there and face that fear.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, taking any possible sting from her words. “See you next week.”

  ****

  Kylie couldn’t help watching for Solomon, though she didn’t really expect to see him. Maybe never again. She wasn’t sure who or what he was, but he was no ordinary man—of that she had no doubt, especially after Lea’s whispered admission the day before. What had a doorkeeper for a dating agency to do with a disfigured child on a ranch outside the city?

  Solomon didn’t show himself, but someone else did. As Kylie reached for the huge door handle, the door swung open, and out stepped her doctor.

  “Hey! Kylie Matthews, as I live and breathe.”

  She had forgotten Dr. Sean Connery’s charming crooked grin, and seeing it made her smile in return. “Hi, Dr. Connery. What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I’m not binding wounds and setting broken bones.” He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I could ask you the same question.”

  Warmth crept up her neck and into her face. Caught. Nothing like airing her lack of ability to find the right guy for all the world to see. “But you won’t, because you’re a gentleman, right?” She smiled. “OK, I’ll tell you. I’m a Solomon’s Gate Seeker.”

  “Good for you! So am I, as of five minutes ago.” The doctor rolled his eyes and grimaced. “Does that make us both desperate?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kylie surprised herself with her answer. “You have no reason to be desperate—you’re smart, successful, and nice looking. You’re here because you’ve chosen to be, for whatever reason, not because you can’t find a date on your own. And me, well…” She hesitated. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be, on this day, in this moment, at this place. Or so I’ve been told.”

  “Wow. That’s good.” Dr. Connery’s blue eyes studied her for a moment. “You’re looking great, Kylie. That scar’s not even worth mentioning.”

  “Well, I had a good doctor. And since you’re here…” Might as well get all the apologies over with today. “I’m so sorry about the way I behaved—you know, that day in the hospital. I promise you I don’t often throw childish fits.”

  He quirked one brow, and his blue eyes took on a too-good-to-be-true innocence. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Did I miss something?”

  She shook her head. “That’s awfully sweet. Thank you.”

  He chuckled. “There’s really no need for an apology.”

  “Well, thank you, Dr. Connery. You’re very kind.” Kylie found it easy to relax with this man. “I’m sorry anyway, OK?”

  He touched the back of one finger briefly to her cheek. “OK, if it makes you feel better.” He dropped his hand and treated her to a wink and one of his boyish grins. “It’s been great seeing you again. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  “Me too. Thanks.”

  Raising a hand in farewell, he walked away. Kylie watched him go, trying to imagine who Destiny would find for the good doctor. It would be interesting to watch what developed.

  But she was here to see Destiny, not stand outside the Gate mooning after her handsome physician. She grasped the door handle and went in.

  Kylie's Kiss

  26

  Julie looked up from her desk with a smile. “Kylie! How nice to see you! Hey, C.J. tells me you’re doing an awesome job at Gallagher Investments. They miss you, and can’t wait until you’re back at work. You should be proud, girl. My husband doesn’t hand out compliments often.”

  Kylie’s mouth dropped open. “C.J. Gallagher is your husband? How come I never knew that?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” Julie laughed. “Maybe I’d better go take a look in his office. He’d better still have my picture on his desk!”

  Kylie chuckled. “I’m sure he does. To be honest, I work almost solely with Clay. C.J.’s in and out—mostly out—and I don’t see him often. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever been inside his office.”

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Sounds about right. My darling husband is not one to stay cooped up indoors if there’s any possibility whatsoever of being out. Clay’s so good about allowing C.J. to do most of the footwork in the company. I mean, I know he’d like to get out more often, as well.”

  “Well, things click along pretty well over there. I’ve come to know my boss well enough to know he’d change things if he didn’t think what they’re doing is best for the company.” Kylie glanced at Julie’s appointment book, lying open on her desk. “Is Destiny busy? I don’t suppose there’s a chance I might see her for a moment?”

  “She’s actually alone right now. If you’re quick, it shouldn’t be a problem. Our last appointment just left, and the next one isn’t due for another fifteen minutes or so.”

  “I saw Dr. Connery on my way in. I’m glad he came.”

  “You know Sean?”

  “He took care of me after my accident. Destiny met him in my hospital room, while I was having myself a hysterical fit.”

  “Too funny!” Julie chuckled, but looked a bit surprised at Kylie’s uncharacteristic candor. “Well, I don’t know how he is as a doctor, but he sure seems like a pleasant enough guy. Funny, nice, gentlemanly—and with a name like that, who knows what other fine qualities he might possess?”

  They both laughed. The door behind Julie swung open and Destiny poked her head out. “Hey, no fun allowed!” Her eyes lit up when she saw Kylie. “Look who’s here! What a nice surprise. Did you want to see me, Kylie?”

  “Yes, if you have a minute.”

  “I just happen to have two of them.” Destiny laughed and motioned her forward. “Come on in.”

  The mint-colored carpeting Kylie remembered from the visitor’s waiting room extended into the heart of Solomon’s Gate. Walls of a soft, soothing champagne color gave the medium-sized office a deceptively roomy appearance. Only a few pieces of furniture claimed space in the room. A gorgeous, cherry wood desk dominated the center of the area, and two wingback chairs faced it on the visitors’ side. Destiny and her husband obviously shared a penchant for ensuring the comfort of their guests.

  Tucked into an alcove at one end, a couple of tall filing cabinets only a shade or two darker than the walls almost disappeared in the shadows. An assortment of similarly framed and matted Bible verses adorned the walls. Kylie scanned each of them, noticing that all of the scriptures were taken from Song of Solomon—except one.

  Her gaze lingered on the wall behind the desk, where a large frame held a verse of scripture from Psalms 91:11. Graceful calligraphic lettering spelled out the familiar words: For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

  “You’re trying to figure out why this scripture is different from all the others.” Destiny’s soft voice interrupted Kylie’s study of the room’s details. She started, and looked up to find the other woman watching her, a slight smile playing about her lips.

  “I guess I am. Why is it different?” Kylie hurried to explain. “I mean, I love the verse—it’s beautiful, and reassuring. But it doesn’t seem to fit.”

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  “What is it?”

  Destiny glanced at her watch. “I wish I had time to tell you about it, but my next appointment will be here in about ten—”

  Julie stuck her head in the door. “Next one just postponed, boss. I rescheduled her for tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you, Julie.” Destiny’s green eyes twinkled when she smiled. “I get the feeling Solomon is at work again.”

  Kylie shook her head. “I have to ask. What is the deal with Solomon? Rick’s little girl just mentioned his name yesterday. Apparently she and your Solomon have been having secret discussions.”

  “Really?” Destiny’s lovely face took on a thoughtful, pensive expression. “I wonder…”

  “
Who is he?”

  The redhead sat up a little straighter in her chair, then reached out and picked up a small, decorative bottle off her desk. She held the container in her hand, stroking it with her thumb while she studied Kylie for a moment. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear this? It can be hard to believe. You’ll need an open mind.”

  “My mind is a gaping chasm.”

  Still Destiny watched her for another long moment. Finally, she hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the framed scripture behind her desk. “The truth about Solomon? That verse of scripture? Same story.”

  Puzzled, Kylie read the scripture again. Her heart banged against her chest as the truth slammed her like a big, unavoidable boulder she should have seen coming.

  “He’s not—” She swallowed hard. “You don’t mean—”

  Destiny grinned, watching Kylie struggle with the truth. “I do mean.”

  She shook her head. If she said it out loud, and she was wrong, Destiny would have a heyday with her gaffe. “Say it,” she demanded.

  “You want me to say it? OK.” Destiny shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “Solomon is an angel.”

  ****

  She came here to apologize. Instead, Kylie found herself mesmerized by a tale made up of events she would have written off as fiction just weeks ago. But Destiny and this agency had changed her, somehow. She’d met Solomon, felt his other-worldliness. Destiny’s faith-filled life had witnessed to her heart. There’d been that amazing presence in her kitchen the night of her first immersion. She’d faced her biggest fear and discovered a miracle.

  And now she found herself believing in angels.

  “It started the day my mother died,” Destiny began. “That was just over eight months ago.” She spun her chair around to look up at the scripture on the wall. “Some of her last words to me were the words in that verse. She said it was my scripture—that Jesus told her so.”

  “I’m sorry—about your mother.” Kylie spoke quietly, almost feeling a need for reverence.