“Not another word, ladies. I mean it, or it’s no cookies for you and no shopping for you,” Cecelia informed her two best friends with a knowing look of her own.
“Fine,” Camille and Symone replied simultaneously. It was obvious they were exasperated with her reluctance to discuss Dillen, who was hotter than sin and perfect for her. They knew without a doubt that once she was willing to put her heart on the line, Dillen would be there to protect her with everything in his being. The King was an honorable man if nothing else. Yeah, he had dated other women over the years, but he wasn’t a manwhore like some of the Shifters in Bass Ackwards. Nope, he was a King who needed a Queen and their best friend met all of his requirements and then some.
“Okay, lay it on us. What did you have in mind for tonight?” Camille begrudgingly asked. Mainly, because she wanted to finish their discussion about Dillen and somehow convince her best friend to give the man a chance. What better night to wish for a miracle than Christmas Eve for Goddess’ sake.
Once again jumping up and down with glee, Cecelia said, “I’m glad you asked. I thought instead of watching “The Nutcracker” tonight like we always do every year, instead, we could reenact it. Of course, I would be the Sugar Plum Fairy and Symone would play Claire.”
“Hey, what about me?” Camille asked.
“Well, since you’re so statuesque, I thought you could play the male leads and twirl us both around,” Cecelia replied, hesitantly.
“Are you implying that I’m fat?” Camille exclaimed. “Because honey, I assure you, I am many things, but fat is not one of them. This body is perfect. I’m lean yet voluptuous in all the right places and men absolutely drool over me. You know it, and I know it,” Camille said with conviction and a death glare that would have put the fear in the Goddess.
“No, sweetheart. That’s not what I was implying,” Cecelia said in a soothing voice, as if she were trying to coo a cranky baby sleep, or a mountain lion hungry for his next kill. “It’s just that since you’re so tall and strong, I thought it would be easier for you to twirl us around given our petite size.”
Hands on hips and fuming at the mouth, Camille said, “So, you are calling me fat. I thought we were friends. I thought you were better than this. How could you, CeCe?”
Exhausted by the conversation and frustrated to no end, Cecelia placed her hands on her hips and in a firm voice said, “Listen up. You. Are. Not. Fat. I never want to hear you say that again. Since you are so tall, I thought it would be easier for you to twirl us around. It’s as simple as that. No ulterior motives. No judging or stereotyping. Besides, I could care less about how much you weigh, especially considering we can’t gain weight as witches,” Cecelia explained.
Symone knew she should have chimed in and tried to de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand, but this was the most fun she’d had all night. She had conjured up a chair, a can of flavored popcorn—caramel, butter, and toffee—and a huge mug of hot chocolate that included a touch of cinnamon, peppermint, and marshmallows. It was absolutely delicious. Almost as delicious as the drama unfolding before her very eyes.
“I know we can’t gain weight. I’m just tired of everyone saying I’m so statuesque,” Camille whined.
“What’s so wrong about being statuesque?” Symone asked. “Marilyn Monroe was statuesque and men fawned all over her every time she entered a room. The woman was a Goddess among mere mortals.”
“Yeah, but I’m not Marilyn Monroe,” Camille replied in a somber voice.
“You could be,” Cecelia immediately responded. “You’re absolutely gorgeous and everyone knows it. Men love you. Women want to be you. Hell, there are days I would give my right arm to be you. I’m not afraid to admit it. I have a little statuesque envy going on here,” Cecelia professed.
“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I could be the hero of your little play,” Camille sighed in defeat.
“Now that you two have resolved your issues, I just have one question. What do our costumes look like?” Symone asked with excitement in her voice. The more she thought about “The Nutcracker” and the beautiful costumes the performers wore, the more enticing CeCe’s idea became.
Shaking her head in exasperation and laughing, Cecelia looked at her best friend and said, “You’re incorrigible, Symone, but that’s why we love you.”
“Don’t judge me! Now, let’s see these costumes,” Symone giggled.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
After years of reading romance novels and getting lost in characters’ worlds, Isabel Micheals finally decided to try her hand at writing. Inspired by Lucy Kevin’s Four Weddings and a Fiasco, she summoned her courage, got to writing, and submitted her first novel. Now she’s been bitten by the writing bug and hopes to make a career of it. Isabel encourages you to join her on this amazing and exciting journey as the characters in her head come to life.
In addition to her creative side, she’s a geek who loves being whisked away into alternate realities, whether it be contemporary, new adult, young adult, historical, paranormal, or real life. Everyone has a story, so be sure to drop by often and see which stories are keeping Isabel up at night, as she pounds away on the keys writing her next book.
If you can’t wait that long, then send Isabel a note through email because she loves chatting with readers, especially when it involves books and romance. Or better yet, sign-up for her newsletter to stay up on the latest news and participate in some cool contests.
Isabel hopes to see you soon, so until then, keep on reading.
Visit www.isabelmicheals.com for more information.
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