Playing Doctor

Chapter Nineteen

People to Avoid:

Gray

Kevin

Gray

Art

Mom

Gray

"Mom called from Australia again. She says she's left a bunch of messages for you but you haven't returned any of them."

Not bothering to look up at Mena, I flipped a page of the magazine I was looking at. I'd never read Cosmopolitan until I realized normal women didn't read the Stanford Medicine Magazine for leisure. It was highly educational. This month I learned ten sex secrets men kept from women.

"Daph, you aren't listening to me." Mena dropped onto the other end of the couch.

"Of course I'm listening to you. And my name is Daphne."

"Your name is toast if you don't call Mom soon."

Talking to our mother was not something I could handle right now. "I'll call her later."

"Oh please. How hard is lying on the couch all day?" she asked sarcastically as she grabbed the remote.

"Actually, I found a job." My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of how she'd react.

"You did?" She sat up at attention. "Where are you working?"

"Have you read this article?" I lifted the Cosmo to show her. "It gives the top five moisturizers on the market."

"Daphne," she said warningly.

"As you age, skin loses collagen and elastin, and moisturizing becomes necessary." I turned the page. "But it's your skin."

"Oh God." Groaning, Mena turned off the TV and gave me her full attention. "You're working as a stripper. Mom's going to kill me."

Frowning, I dropped the magazine on the table and stood up. "Why would she kill you?"

"She always blames me for your falls from grace. Remember the time you blew up the kitchen because you wanted to see how volatile phosphorous could be?"

"I was curious. And I didn't blow up the kitchen," I said, heading for my bedroom. "There were only a few flames that got out of control."

Mena followed me. "You torched the curtains."

Sometimes there were casualties in furthering science. I opened the closet. "Mom blamed you?"

"Hell yeah. She said you were acting out because I'd dismembered your Barbie."

"I liked that doll." I tried not to think of Gray and his Barbie fetish. I tried not to think about him at all-there was only disaster in that direction. Besides, I had Charles now.

I frowned.

"So are you stripping?" she asked, flopping onto my bed.

"No." Feigning nonchalance, I pulled out a dress and studied it. "I'm working at Play Me."

"Oh God." Mena groaned again. "That's almost as bad as stripping. Not only is Mom going to come after me but Dad's going to chew me out for corrupting his little girl."

I didn't have to ask why she'd think that. Our parents always viewed my sister as the underachiever while I was destined for great things. When they found out my current career choice, they'd blame Mena as the corrupting force. Returning the dress to its spot, I pulled out a pair of black wool pants.