Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two

by Shirley Larson

  That was a direct hit. It was all I ever wanted in the world, to give my sister a chance to survive. She had never had a date, never danced with a boy, never giggled with girls at a slumber party.

  Liz stood gazing at me with that calm expression. I had heard many stories about this woman, that she had been a Broadway star and that the tabloids had had a field day reporting on her relationship with Hunter. But Liz Cameron gave me the feeling that she said what she meant and meant what she said.

  I was tired and my head was spinning and I was in no shape to be double teamed by Mr. and Mrs. Cameron. “I will think about it.”

  “And you’ll let us know on Monday.”

  “Yes,” I said, thinking I simply wanted to get them out of the house so I could lay my weary body down.

  But once they were gone and I undressed and lay down on my creaky bed, I couldn’t sleep. To any other person, this decision had to be a no brainer. Of course, I must do this for my sister. But it would take a tremendous amount of self-control for me to be in constant contact with Justin Cameron, and keep my silly heart from betraying me even though he was so antagonistic toward me. How could I hide my love for him? How could I ever think of going?

  On the other hand, Hunter and Liz were offering me the money that would give Natalie the chance to live a normal life. How could I possibly turn them down?

  Chapter 2

  I spent an agonizing two days, but in the end there was only one answer I could give. I called Liz Cameron Sunday night and said that I would do it. There were details to be worked out and I told them I wanted a contract. We met in their lawyer’s office Monday morning to finalize the agreement. Natalie was to have a bone marrow transplant as soon as a match was found. I had been tested and it was discovered that, oddly enough, I wasn’t a match. Natalie was to receive round-the-clock care from two nurses who would be my surrogates in my absence. I was given a check to cover my medical bills.

  I’d be given an indefinite leave from my duties at the hospital. Mr. Cameron arranged it, since he was on the board of directors. Liz would find someone to check on my house once a week, to clean, pick up any stray papers off the driveway and make sure my house was cared for while I was gone. I was to stay with Justin as much as I could, and even go with him to the clinic, if he would allow it. If he didn’t, I was to stay close by, waiting for him. There was a final clause in the contract that almost made me walk out of the office. I was to go with Mrs. Cameron and pick out a suitable wardrobe. I looked at Mr. Cameron, and the expression on my face must have given his lawyer a start. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need his money for the clothes on my back, but Mrs. Cameron said, “That was my idea, Anne. If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

  I wanted to refuse. But when I thought of my meager wardrobe with absolutely nothing appropriate for a cruise, I just shook my head and signed the document. All of this had to be accomplished quickly. Justin was scheduled to leave in a week.

  “I’ll arrange for your leave of absence to start today. My wife has cleared her schedule to take you on a shopping trip,” said Mr. Cameron, who was obviously used to being in charge. “Then you’ll want to see Natalie and explain your absence to her.”

  It was like being caught up in a whirlwind. Hunter Cameron’s check would pay off my outstanding medical bills including the fee for the bone marrow transplant. The transplant would happen quickly, so quickly that I wouldn’t be there to help her through it. I had to accept that after years of being the only one to care about my sister, I was going to relinquish her care into the hands of other people more capable than I. I closed my mind to the loss I felt and reminded myself that this was Natalie’s chance to survive and lead a normal life.

  After the session in the lawyer’s office, Liz Cameron led me out to their black limousine. As I slid in the back seat, the smell of good leather well maintained hit me immediately. Mrs. Cameron followed me in. That expensive door closing was my Armageddon. There was no going back now.

  “Oh, Anne Wentworth.” She said my name with a merry little lilt in her voice. “I’ve never seen a woman look so unhappy to be going on a shopping spree.”

  “You must understand how I feel, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “Call me Liz. Of course I understand how you feel. I do wish you’d forget your stiff-necked pride and enjoy yourself a little.” She leaned closer to me and said in conspirator’s whisper, “We won’t have as much selection as we would in New York City, but it will be fun.”

  “I heard you starred on Broadway.”

  “I had a good run, yes.” She patted my knee. “I like what I’m doing now much better.” She took her hand away and rubbed her baby tummy.

  “Do you know what your baby is?”

  “No. I told Hunter we had to wait and see just like people did in the good old days. But never mind me. Anne, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve decided to do this for the Cameron family.”

  “Actually, I’m doing it for my sister.”

  “Then two families will benefit from your decision, won’t they?”

  Liz was indomitable in her plans for me and even more determined when it came to picking out clothes. She led the way to an exclusive shop and the shop owner, a petite dark-haired woman the size of a pencil rushed up to Liz.

  “No, nothing for me, today, Rita. I want to buy some things for Ms. Wentworth.”

  The stylish Miss Rita cast an eye over my stretched-out Old Navy t-shirt and well-worn jeans. Her effort to conceal her distaste was valiant, to say the least.

  Turning away to hide her face from Liz, she said, “We might have something on the sale rack…”

  “No sale rack, Rita. Ms. Wentworth is going on a cruise. We need clothes that are understated but elegant. If you could chose some dresses for us, I’ll pick up some casual things.”

  Liz piled up several jeans and tops. One outfit was a pair of neat white cutoffs and a navy stripped shirt that had a very ‘I’m off to sea’ kind of air.

  Miss Rita had an eye. She brought out four dresses, one all white in cotton with a floating skirt, a silky blue dress for dinner dressing, a yellow dress with a nipped in waist and a pink evening gown.

  Instantly, I said, “I don’t wear pink.”

  “Nonsense,” Liz scoffed. “You’ll look astounding in that dress. We’ll take all of them.”

  I cringed when I heard the final total, but Liz gave me a warning look and I kept my misgivings to myself until we were out of the shop. Then I protested vigorously, but Liz laughed my protests away.

  From there Liz marched me into a Victoria’s Secret and sent me into the dressing room with the fitting expert. Doreen was a young girl in her twenties who could have been a model. Thirty-two D, Doreen measured me and then said, “Did you have implants?”

  “No,” I said. “That’s the last thing I would ever do to my body.”

  “Well, I know girls who would kill for your bust line.” She fitted me with a white satin bra and a similar blue one, a leopard print, and a strapless pink number to go under the ball gown. Every bra I tried on was over fifty dollars. I came out of the dressing room, determined to talk Liz out of a hundred and ninety dollar purchase. “I don’t need those. No one is going to see my under things.”

  “Ah. But as that famous Hollywood producer David O. Selznick once said to Olivia De Havilland, “You’ll know they are there. Besides, you need good bras.”

  That silenced me.

  Liz said, “Now for shoes.”

  Liz took me to designer shoe store and there she bought a pair of beige pumps with four inch heels, rope wedge shoes in yellow and a pair of expensive running shoes. To top it all off, she took off a scarf she had been wearing that I’d admired and draped it around my throat. It flowed with sea colors, aquamarine, cerulean blue and turquoise. It was like having a swirl of beautiful water drifting around me. “This will go nicely with that coat we bought.”

  “I can’t take this beautiful thing,” I protested. “It’s a wor
k of art.”

  “You must take it. It’s my gift to you for being such a good sport.

  “Oh, I’m a real good sport, parting you with your money.”

  “It’s for a very good cause.”

  “You wouldn’t be trying to set me up with Justin, would you? Because believe me, no amount of expensive clothes will make me into a woman who’d interest him.”

  “Of course I’m not dressing you up for Justin. Whatever made you think of such a thing? I’m dressing you up for you.” But her eyes sparkled when she said it. It was off to hair and makeup next. By the time I walked into my house and looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself. The scraggly pony tail was gone. My hair had been lightened just a touch and cut to swing long and straight around my face. I might have stepped out of the Roaring twenties with that hair, but it suited me.

  My lashes were darkened and looked incredibly long. My complexion was smooth and a faint pink color lay under the surface that was my own.

  A few days later, I had my last visit with Natalie. If I had any misgivings about what I was doing, they were blown away by the bright excitement in my sister’s eyes. She was bubbly with happiness.

  “Dr. Donaldson explained everything to me, how I’d have to remain in the hospital for three weeks until they were sure I could be released and then I’d have round the clock care arranged for me at home because you would be working. Oh, Anne, however did you do it?”

  “I found an insurance plan that would cover the expense.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “It must be a really good one.”

  “It is,” I said, knowing sweet Natalie would never hear the irony in my voice.

  “And look at that big, beautiful bouquet of flowers. There’s hibiscus and hydrangeas, which you know I love, and roses and carnations…Anne, you shouldn’t have splurged so.”

  Of course I wasn‘t the one who had splurged. That bouquet was obviously from Liz Cameron, the woman who thought of everything. I fought to keep the tears back. Both Natalie and I had been in a dark tunnel for so long that I hardly knew how to react when good luck came our way. “Was there a card?”

  “No, no card. You knew I didn’t need a card. Oh, Anne, this is just wonderful.”

  Natalie was so ecstatic about her second chance that she expressed no curiosity about my trip except to ask me how long I’d be gone. I told her I thought it would be about two weeks.

  I left her room and now the tears came. I would miss her dreadfully, probably more than she would miss me.

  Somehow Mr. Cameron expedited my application for a passport. When Liz brought it to me, she said, “I just want to say one thing. The Cameron men need strong women. You strike me as someone who’s already been through the mill. You’ll know how to deal with Justin better even than anyone of us, I suspect. Don‘t let him run over you.”

  Such an odd thing to say. I was still mulling it over when, seven days later, I stood on the lower deck of the cruise ship, watching supplies being loaded. There was the usual excitement of launching, people down on the dock waving, people on the deck beside me waving, children with streamers.

  A tall fellow rudely squeezed in beside me. I turned to give him a piece of my mind and found myself staring into the green eyes of Justin Cameron. “So they talked you into it, did they?”

  My heart did a little panic dance. What did he mean, they talked you into it? “Why, Justin, what a surprise.” I could hear how ‘off’ my voice sounded. I was never any good at lying. “And how nice. It will be great to have a friend on board…”

  “Cut the crap, Anne. You know damn well it’s no surprise to see me here. And God knows, I’ve been looking all over for you. When I couldn’t find you, I thought maybe you’d come to your senses and decided to leave me alone.”

  Nothing had prepared me for this onslaught from the man I adored. I had no clever words to defend myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  He caught my shoulders and turned me toward him. His face was hard with temper. Even so, with his chiseled chin, his green eyes dark with emotion and his blond hair lifting in the wind, he was the most beautiful man I‘d ever seen. And quite possibly the angriest. “Let’s get one thing straight. I want nothing to do with you. If you think you’re going to dose me with meds or follow me around to make sure I wear my sweater to protect me from the little night breezes, or tuck me in bed with milk and cookies, you’re out of your mind.”

  I wanted to be eloquent in my defense, but I could think of nothing to say that sounded plausible. “I was just supposed to be your friend…”

  “Supposed to be? I don’t need fake friends like you…friends who are paid to babysit me.”

  “I’m not going to be your babysitter…”

  “Oh?” He came closer until he was just an inch from my nose. “Then tell me exactly what it is you’re going to do.”

  What could I say? I only wanted to take away his anger, his belief that he’d been betrayed by his family and by me. Compelled by what was certainly a death wish, I raised my hand and cupped his cheek. “Your family cares about you…and so do I.”

  He shackled my wrist with those clever, guitar-calloused fingers and jerked my hand down to my side, releasing it instantly. “You don’t give a flip about me. You’re like every other woman I’ve ever known. You only care about money.”

  I wanted to cry out about those days I visited him in the hospital. Who was paying me then? My first instinct was to play the martyr and let him castigate me without reacting. If he was so darn blind, I’d let him stay that way. But after so many years of holding my tongue, a deep need to meet his animosity with my own rose. “Of course I care about the money. What else could I possibly care about? You don’t imagine I care anything about you, do you?” And I thought I couldn’t lie.

  Those green eyes sizzled with fire as they burned into mine. “Don’t ever put your hand on me again…not even to feel my forehead, you…”

  I could see he was trying to think of a epithet that fit me.

  “damned nurse.”

  Reeling with hurt, I watched him shoulder his way through the crowds of people. Wasn’t I off to a jolly start on my new job? Who had told him that I was being paid to be his companion on this voyage? And what was I going to do?

  I wanted to leave the ship immediately. And I could do it, the gangplank was still down and passengers were coming on. Surely when I told Liz and Hunter how Justin had reacted to me, they would understand my walking away. But if I did run from my obligation to the Camerons, I could never repay them for everything they were doing for my sister.

  With every fiber of my being, I rejected that idea. If I walked out, I would be acting like my irresponsible mother, something I vowed I would never do. In a sense, Justin was my patient. And the first rule of nursing was never to abandon a patient. Whatever my feelings were, however much I wanted to leave the haughty Justin inside his own little hell, I couldn’t do it. I had made a promise to Liz Cameron. I would have to stay and face Justin’s disdain every hour of every day of this voyage. Wasn’t that going to be a barrel of fun?

  As the boat got under way, we passengers were like strangers in a small town. And like a small town, we made an effort to get acquainted but not too acquainted. Polite facades and all that. There was Mrs. Rosenbloom who walked her miniature poodle Bubbles, complete with pink hair ribbons, past my deck chair that first morning. I knew all I had to do was to admire her darling dog to engage her in conversation. Then there were the Johnsons who also stopped to say hello and exchange names. They had a daughter who looked to be about seven. There was something a little off about Belinda. She was pretty, with lots of dark, curly hair, but she didn’t look at me when her mother introduced us. I thought perhaps she had a mild case of autism.

  Then there was the not so charming Mr. Bellows. Mr. Bellows was old enough to be my father with his comb-over hair and a tiny little mustache ala Errol Flynn. Mr. Bellows fancied himself quite the dandy, sporting
a tam o’shanter hat, polo shirt and golf pants that ended in striped socks and white buck shoes the likes of which I hadn’t seen since I was a kid.

  The first night at dinner I sat as far away from Justin as I could get. Of course that meant that I was open game for Mr. Bellows. He plunked down next to me and at every break at the conversation, which was peopled by travelers who were talking about their time in Greece, a conversation I really wanted to hear, Mr. Bellows bragged about his business ventures and how he was traveling to the tropics to collect bolts of authentic native material to sell to the best designing houses in France.

  I was impatient with this man who was patently making it up as he went along, and I turned my head to glance around the room. I found Justin Cameron three tables over, staring at me. Hum, I thought. That was interesting.

  To my entire discredit, I began to devote my utmost attention to Mr. Bellows, smiling as if golden words dropped from his lips, knowing I would pay for it in the days to come by having Mr. Bellows turn up at my elbow every chance he got. Still it was worth it to see those tiny frown lines appear on Justin’s forehead.

  Later, there was dancing in the ballroom and I even allowed Mr. Bellows to trundle me around the floor in what was supposed to be a passable imitation of a slow dance. The wolf in sheep’s clothing kept letting his hand drift lower on my back to fondle my derriere and I kept pulling my right hand loose from his sweaty grip to jerk his hand back up. Eventually I was saved, not by Justin, as I hoped, but by Mrs. Rosenbloom who tapped me gently on the shoulder and said, “My dear, you’ve monopolized this dancing man long enough. Let the rest of us have a chance.”

  Right then and there I wanted to kiss Mrs. Rosenbloom. Heck, I wanted to kiss her poodle. Reluctantly, Mr. Bellows released me and gathered up the ample bundle that was Mrs. Rosenbloom into his arms. At least she’d be safe from his wandering hand tricks. Her husband was seated at the table watching them with an indulgent smile. His wife had probably told him she was going to save that nice young woman from the grope king.