Wrestling Harmony (The Kingsley Series)

by Brandi Kennedy

  “Well, how well do you know each other?” Cameron asked, lifting an eyebrow as she twisted the cork loose from a bottle of red wine.

  “Not really.”

  “Maybe as you get to know him, that’ll pass?”

  “I don’t know,” Harmony laughed. “We really got off to a wrong start, but we just keep running into each other all the time. We don’t seem to have any choice other than to get to know each other better.”

  “Well,” Cameron laughed. “Don’t let your guard down completely, but don’t just toss him off without giving him a chance. Something I’ve learned from being with Mac – you never know what could happen if you don’t try. Is he cute?”

  “Super,” Harmony said, giggling.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Um, Xander. Actually the audition is basically for the position of his ring escort or something like that. Arm candy.”

  “Hmm,” Cameron teased, carrying a tray of wine glasses to the table and setting one next to each plate. “Well, now I’m really hoping you get it. This job sounds like just the kind of adventure you need.”

  “I think so too,” Harmony said with a grin. “Okay, ready for the chaos of a Kingsley dinner?”

  “Hey, at least it’s just us girls this time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Standing in front of the open door to her bedroom closet, Harmony sighed. She had already tried on all of her best clothes and nothing was going to be good enough for the AWG audition. Turning away from the door, she reread the audition information she’d gotten from Whitney, her fingers trembling as she held the page.

  “Okay, it’s gonna be fine,” she whispered to herself, recalling Whitney’s pep talk from the night before.

  “Stand tall, be confident, and dress like you already work there. The audition starts at noon, so be there early to get in early,” Whitney had said. “And go to bed; you’re going to need to be rested.”

  Trying to shake off her worries, Harmony let the paper fall from her fingers, turning again to sift through the clothes in her closet. The second search revealed nothing new, and Harmony stepped away, groaning in frustration as she dropped back onto her bed.

  Eyes closed, she rested on her back, one hand lightly spread over the flat surface of her stomach. “Too bad I’m not curvier,” she muttered, lifting her head to look at the mostly-flat planes of her athletic body. “If I had bigger boobs, then I could borrow something really good from Cameron.” The truth was, she had borrowed several elegant cocktail dresses from Cameron, none of which were fancy enough – or fitted enough – as Harmony was much shorter than her sister and of a different build.

  Harmony lifted her cell phone from the pillow next to her head, bringing the screen to life and opening her text message box. I am royally screwed, she wrote. I have nothing to wear. She pressed the button to send the text to Whitney, settled the phone on her stomach, and waited.

  It didn’t take long for the phone to buzz gently on Harmony’s stomach, the vibration slightly tickling before she snatched it up and turned on the screen to open the text. Just hold on, she read. I told my dad you had the audition coming up, and he gave me his credit card, he sent me shopping, and he says good luck.

  Another text appeared on the screen before Harmony could reply to the first one: He also says to consider this a gift of good wishes. You should be getting a delivery just about –

  “Hmm.” Watching the screen, Harmony exited the text screen and then opened it again, hoping that the rest of the message would appear. After waiting for several minutes without receiving the rest of the text, she opened the reply box and typed, A delivery of what?

  Sitting up, she scooted to the edge of the bed and slid to her feet before turning to smooth the bed and reach for her phone. The bell-chime of a text message broke the silence again, and as Harmony opened the screen, a knock sounded at the door of her apartment. Without reading the text, she quickly shoved her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and walked to the living room, smiling proudly as she walked through her apartment.

  Living alone had been good for Harmony. She loved the sense of independence, and the quiet time had helped her to realize how important it was to find a new career that was busy and fulfilling. Still, she’d also come to recognize a sense of loneliness that she’d never noticed before. Unbidden, Xander’s face came to her mind again, but she shook her head, opening her apartment door with a smile.

  “Harmony Kingsley?” The elderly gentleman on the other side of her door was dressed smartly in a dark grey suit. His shirt was the purest white, and his ultra-formal look was completed with a simple black bow-tie.

  “Yes, that’s me,” Harmony said, stepping into the hallway.

  Bowing slightly, the man placed a glittering white box into Harmony’s waiting hands. “Compliments of Miss Whitney James,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Harmony answered quietly, holding the weight of the box against her hip as she watched the man nod slightly in answer.

  “Good day, Miss.” He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as his expression softened. Nodding one last time, he turned away, moving proudly down the hallway and turning to wait for the elevator.

  “Hmm,” Harmony murmured, stepping back into the apartment and closing the door. She turned, carefully carrying the beautiful white box to the island bar in her kitchen. She’d just settled the box and begun to lift the lid when her phone rang.

  “Did he come?” Whitney squealed, not giving Harmony time to say ‘Hello.’ “Have you seen it yet?”

  “Uh, an older guy was just here,” Harmony said nervously, eyeing the box. She couldn’t possibly keep whatever was in it – the deliveryman was a good indication of how crazily expensive the contents of the box were, and there was no way Harmony could accept a gift like that. “Whitney, I’m not even sure I should open this box.”

  “Open it. Come on, open it, open it, open it!”

  “Whitney, I don’t know. That delivery guy was in a full suit and he kept calling me ‘Miss,’ like I’m some kind of fancy person. Where the heck did you shop for this?” Running a finger over the bumpy glitter coating the fancy box like tiny diamond chips, Harmony caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She was desperate to see what was in the box, and just as desperate to have the little old man who’d brought it come back and take it away again.

  “Harmony,” Whitney said patiently, laughing softly. “You need something really, really fancy for this audition. You saw the stuff those girls were wearing when we went to the show, and I know you don’t have stuff like that because you never needed it before.”

  “Do I really need it now?” Harmony asked. “It’s just an audition, really.”

  “Yeah but the paper says to dress ‘in costume,’ and I don’t think jeans is going to win them over. You need something nice.”

  “And what if I don’t get the job? Then you’ve bought whatever the heck you bought for nothing.”

  “Which isn’t a factor, because you’re going to get that job,” Whitney retorted. “I just know you’re gonna get it, Harmony. And once you’re on the roster, then you’ll probably need things like that sometimes. So I know that it’s money well spent, and my father says so, too. Now open the box.”

  “But I just – what if –“

  “Open the damned box,” Whitney laughed. “You’re killing me; I’d have delivered it myself but it’s the store policy that all gifts be delivered.”

  “Probably for maximum fanciness. Again, I ask: where the heck did you buy this, whatever it is?” Stepping away, Harmony moved to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.

  “Open. The. Box,” Whitney grumbled. “Because if you don’t, I will go back to that store right now, and I will have all three of the other dresses I liked packaged up and sent directly to your house.”

  Turning to settle her water on the counter, Harmony laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll open it.” Gingerly, she took the box in her hands and slid it closer,
lifting the top of the box to reveal a shining pile of emerald green lace, covered in intricate beadwork and random white gems that sparkled in the light of the room.

  “You’re being too quiet!” Whitney exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.

  “Um, I’m not really sure what to say, Whit,” Harmony answered breathlessly, fighting the urge to lift the fragile gown from the box and dance around screaming. Experimentally, she shifted the box back and forth on the counter, watching the beaded fabric sparkle and spill against itself, catching sparks of light that made the pile of fabric look more like a pile of priceless jewels.

  “Say something!”

  “I – I love the color?” Harmony whispered, her blue eyes filling with tears as she stood motionless, looking down at the gown. Staring at the costly costume, Harmony stepped away, suddenly intimidated by the thought of wearing it. Was she sure she could do this?

  Whitney laughed. “I know what you’re thinking, Harmony, and they don’t take returns, so you might as well go ahead and touch it. Pick it up, try it on.”

  “N-no returns?”

  “No returns. Put it on. But don’t send pictures because I’m on my way,” Whitney giggled. “Surprise. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Harmony answered, ending the call and placing her phone gently on the counter. Taking a deep breath, she moved back to the counter, forcing herself to reach out and touch the incredible texture of the beaded lace. She pulled the short gown from the box, spreading it gently on the counter top and smoothing her fingers over the tiny beads that covered the lace of the dress. Lifting the outer layer of the dress revealed a stretchy liner that almost perfectly matched the color of Harmony’s skin.

  Swallowing her nerves, she gathered the dress over one arm, but as she turned to carry it to her bedroom, she noticed a second, smaller box inside the first. “Yeah, I guess it was a little too heavy for just a dress,” Harmony muttered, shaking her arm slightly to adjust the weight of the beaded gown. With her other hand, she pried the lid from the smaller box, gasping when she saw what was inside.

  “Oh, this has got to be a dream,” she whispered, carefully sliding the emerald gown from her arm and back to the counter. “It just has to be. And wow, I am gonna owe Whitney’s dad for the rest of my life if I don’t get this job.” Inside the second box, a stunning pair of emerald green sandals rested beside a matching set of five wide bangles, each encrusted with the same beadwork as the gown. “I can’t wear this,” she whispered, shaking her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t wear this.”

  The chiming of her cell phone brought her attention away from the shocking costume, and she opened the text, her fingers shaking as she read: It wasn’t as pricey as it looks. Jeez, woman. Stop staring at it and put it on! I’m almost there! Scooping up the shoes, bracelets, and gown, Harmony turned and ran to her room, laughing at her friend’s good instincts.

  By the time Harmony heard Whitney coming through the door and into the apartment, she’d donned the sparkling beaded gown, loving the way the bold emerald green brought out the light, soft blue of her eyes. The glamour of the costume was all in the beadwork and shimmering gemstones, but the cut itself was simple – a deep plunging ‘v’ gave the illusion of more impressive cleavage, while spaghetti-style straps went over her shoulders and crossed in the back, before slipping around to connect to the front of the dress just above her waist. Emerald satin shimmered and spilled in vertical ruffles around her hips, giving her usually slim and straight body the illusion of greater curves.

  “Thank goodness I’m short!” Harmony called, tugging again at the bottom of the gown as it rode high on her slender thighs.

  “Woah,” Whitney murmured, standing in the doorway to Harmony’s bedroom. “Uh, I think you got the job,” she said, her green eyes wide.

  “You know, I had to put the shoes on first because I am afraid to bend down in this thing,” Harmony laughed, holding one foot out and wiggling her ankle to show off the sparkle of the beaded emerald sandals. “There’s no telling what anyone behind me would be getting a look at. And did you even know that this dress came with little beaded shortie-shorts?”

  “Well of course it does, silly. That way, if you do have to bend, and you’ve put them on like you’re supposed to,” Whitney answered, playfully reaching for the hem of the gown, “Then the people behind you aren’t likely to notice anything all that much. Now if you were wearing white cotton granny panties, you might have a little scandal on your hands.”

  Rolling her eyes, Harmony turned back to the standing mirror in the corner of her bedroom. “What do you think, really? I mean, I feel like I’m six years old again and playing dress-up.”

  “What do I think? I think you look awesome. And, I think Xander will fall flat on his face,” Whitney giggled.

  “Yeah, yeah. Seriously though, this really is not about Xander. I hardly even know him,” Harmony laughed, turning back to the mirror. Experimentally, she swiveled her hips, watching the satin ruffles flow with the motion of her body.

  “Hmm. Well, I think your life is about to change, Harm, and Xander Harrison is a part of that. I know he wants you for the job, and I know that if they’re looking for someone who will look good with him on TV, then you fit perfectly.”

  “Perfectly?” Harmony laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Please, Whit. I’ve only seen the guy like three or four times, and at least one of those ended in an argument. Our chemistry is totally wrong, and I’ll spend all my time pretending he’s not a jerk and hoping that the audience can’t tell. You’ve got me married to this guy and I don’t even know if I like him.”

  “Well, maybe I’ve just got the knack for matchmaking,” Whitney winked.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Standing in the dressing room, Harmony felt alone even as she was surrounded by her competitors.

  She felt sick – scared. She’d kept her favorite comfortably oversized t-shirt on, keeping herself covered as she donned the sparkling emerald sandals, smiling to herself as she watched another young woman strap on a sassy pair of high heeled, platform Mary Janes. “There’s no place like home,” Harmony had murmured to herself, turning her focus back to the matter at hand.

  It wasn’t until the women around her began to disrobe and change into their gowns that the insecurity had hit her with a force she’d never encountered before.

  All around the dressing room, women with unbelievably long, unbelievably luxurious hair primped and pampered themselves, perfecting their makeup, seeing to their voluptuous breasts, and swaying rounded hips as they wandered through the room. Throughout her young life, Harmony had mostly been surrounded by very different athletes; she’d spent her teen years competing with slender gymnasts who all had equally straight bodies and light builds.

  But now? Now, in the presence of so many curvy women, she simply felt small like an immature child. Surrounded as she was by slender but much more full-figured women, her body suddenly felt ... undeveloped.

  This was nothing like the old days, competing in the familiar world of gymnastics. This time, she wasn’t nearly as sure of the win. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Harmony chewed on her bottom lip as she stood from the bench and turned toward the vanity that had been assigned to her, opening the little cabinet where she’d left her gown.

  For a moment, she stood still, the elegantly beaded costume in her hands, and wondered if she shouldn’t just leave. But then, remembering her family’s pride, Whitney’s excitement, and the obvious cost of her gifted ensemble, Harmony sighed and draped her gown over the back of her chair. She couldn’t leave. She was stuck and would just have to follow it through, hoping for the best. Looking into her mirror to make sure that no one was watching, Harmony quickly yanked her t-shirt over her head and slipped into the shimmering beaded emerald gown. “Well, at least I’m not overdressed,” she mumbled, turning to glance at the women around her.

  Most of the women were dressed much the same as Harmony was, in brightly color
ed gowns similarly encrusted in gems, beads, and sequins. A few had taken their looks to other extremes, with some dressed in elegant and simple formalwear and others dressed in various pantsuits. A few had dressed entirely in form-fitting tights and bikini-style tops, similar to the female wrestlers who worked for the company. Finally, a tall, willowy businesswoman with a harsh and raspy voice appeared in the dressing room and instructed the competing hopefuls to listen for their names to be called.

  Harmony waited anxiously, unsure of herself – what would be expected of her? She had never been a wrestling fan; she’d never even seen a show before, until the night she’d gone to the live show with Whitney. After that, she’d made a point of watching the shows whenever she could, studying the women. Now, in a crowded room in the back halls of the arena, she waited with the other hopefuls, trying to visualize everything she could possibly remember about the sexy, confident women in the show.