Ms. Perfectly Imperfect: BBW BWWM Interracial Romance (2 page)

Cancer?

Lupus?

Was she going to die?

The faces of some of her family members rushed through her mind. Her maternal grandfather was bald, and even some of her uncles were balding, as well. But what about the female members of her family? As far as she could tell, none of them were losing hair, except for an aunt who’d fought breast cancer with the resultant radiotherapy and chemotherapy for a number of years until she lost the battle a year ago.

Layla couldn’t afford to lose her hair. It was her crowning glory.

She shook her head. She refused to believe she was terminally ill.

Is it stress?

The situation with Bryan was really stressing her out, and her career was very demanding. Yes, yes, yes. Some people reacted differently to acute stress. Some lose weight. Others gained weight. She even remembered one of her model friends developing bad acne because of stress. Maybe, she needed to pick up yoga as a stress-relieving activity. Maybe it was because of her diet. She could be allergic to something she’d been eating and didn’t even realize it.

Yes, that’s it.
Now, she would definitely have to start being more disciplined about keeping a food journal to record all the things she ate each day. As a woman, and a model, it would be devastating for her to walk around with a baldhead.

She glanced at the mirror again.

What the hell is happening to me?

Chapter Two

I may not be perfect, but I don’t need to be. Take me as I am or watch me as I walk away.
~Unknown

A week later, desperate to find some answers, Layla stepped into the hospital. If she didn’t figure out the reason why her hair was falling out, she might lose her career. She couldn’t afford to do that. Hence, she didn’t waste any time in setting up an appointment.

Beside her, Asher pulled a face. “Why do I have to be with you?”

She held up the bag of Subway cookies that he was so fond of. “Because you love these.”

He took the bag from her and dug out a cookie as they headed for the reception. “I love you,” he muttered.

Touched by his sweet comment, she put her hand on his arm even as she handed the receptionist the paperwork that was already prepared by her doctor. “I’m here to get some tests done.”

The nurse read through her file. “We’ll take your history, ma’am.” She turned and pointed to a closed door on her right. “Please wait in that room and someone will be along to ask you some questions. He’ll then escort you to the lab for tests.”

While she turned towards the waiting room, Layla’s eyes were drawn to the charts and words that were put up everywhere. Oncology. Could she have cancer? Her doctor assured her that her hair loss could be due to some simple reason, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she might be dying.

Was she destined to lose it all when she’d worked so hard to come this far?

Is this the end of her journey?

Would she spend the last days of her life in the hospital, alone and miserable?

Layla shuddered as she took a seat.

Asher crunched down on another cookie. “This place depresses me,” he announced.

“Me, too,” she confessed.

He glanced at her, perhaps understanding the fear on her face and put his arm around her. “Don’t worry, baby girl. It’s going to be all right. Nothing is going to happen to you. It’s probably some sort of vitamin deficiency or something like that.”

She’d told him about the reason for the tests that she was required to undergo. She’d assumed that he would be horrified, but he assured her it wasn’t the end of the world. “What if it isn’t? What if this is permanent?” she worried.

“I’ve already told you that it doesn’t matter. You can work just as well with a wig, or hair extensions, or hats. There are a number of accessories that can make this thing disappear.”

“It wouldn’t just disappear. I would have to cover it up all the time. People will know.”

“And they wouldn’t care. All they want is for you to look good on the ramp or on the cover of a magazine, and if you can manage that, ninety percent of your job is done.”

Layla wasn’t quite sure. Asher was just trying to make her feel better. She couldn’t bear it if she lost her contracts because of this new problem. For years, she’d been working hard to chart out her career and now, to lose it because of her hair loss, would be devastating. Just as she opened her mouth to ask him if he really thought this hiccup wouldn’t affect her career, his cell phone rang.

“Hello.” He sat up straighter, the bag of cookies forgotten in his hand. “Okay, I’ll be there in 45.” He put the phone back in his pocket and stood. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“What happened?”

“One of my assistants got into a car accident. They took him to a hospital, and I should go—but maybe I can come back in a little while…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

He looked hesitant to leave her alone. “Maybe you can postpone this until I can come back with you?”

It was sweet of him to offer, but she didn’t think she would have the courage to go through this again. She was here now, and it would be better to get it over with. “I'll be fine. Seriously, just go.”

He strode out, just as a doctor marched in. “Ms. Turner?”

“Yes, that’s me.” She waved to Asher to assure him again that she was fine.

The doctor settled down in front of her and balanced a clipboard on his knee. “Ma’am, I would like you to answer some routine questions before we take you in for some tests.”

Layla trembled a bit; she was scared of needles. “What kind of tests?”

“Nothing major. Some blood tests.” When she winced, he smiled. “Don’t worry. It will be painless.”

Yeah, right!
She sighed as she prepared herself for some pokes. It wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as they diagnosed her and gave the right treatment, she was game to try anything. Quickly, she answered his questions. Regarding her father’s history, she fumbled. “I’m afraid I don’t have any information on my paternal family. I never met my father.”

He didn’t appear perturbed by it. “It’s okay, ma’am.”

Moving on, they filled in the rest of the questionnaire. Once they were finished, he signed at the end. “This is good. Why don’t you fill in your insurance information over here while I set things in motion?”

When he strolled away, she leaned back against the seat and began to fill in the rest of her paperwork. Layla didn’t like to think about her father. He was a dark secret that she liked to hide. As she pondered over the missing piece of her medical history and the implications of it on her condition, her attention was drawn to a little girl who sidled into the room and leaned against the wall as if she was hiding from someone. Layla expected an adult to come in after her, but when no one walked in after five minutes, she cleared her throat.

The girl jumped. No more than eight or nine, she looked terrified. Her gaze settled on Layla. It seemed as if she’d been crying.

Layla didn’t have a lot of experience with young children, but this one looked as if she needed a bit of attention. “Are you okay, dear?”

The girl gulped. Her gaze darted to the door as if she was contemplating running away. She bit her bottom lip hard.

Surely, someone must be looking for her. Layla didn’t want her to slip out. It was better to keep her occupied until someone came in to take her. “What’s your name?”

“Charlotte.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” She smiled.

The girl was very pretty. Her short, wavy, champagne-blonde hair was styled in the quadruple twist and her cherubic face looked angelic.

“Why don’t you sit here with me, Charlotte, until your mommy comes?”

“I don’t want to go to the doctor.” Charlotte’s lips trembled and tears poured out of her denim-blue eyes. “My hair falls out every time they give me medicines.”

A well of sympathy poured into Layla’s heart. Was the girl a patient in this ward? It was quite likely that she was undergoing radiation therapy. “My hair is also falling out,” Layla confessed before she had time to wonder as to why she felt comfortable talking to this child when it was so hard for her to discuss the same subject with her doctor. “See. I will show you.”

After a moment of hesitation, the girl walked closer.

When she was a mere three feet away, Layla took off her hat and bent her head to show her the bald patches on her scalp.

It was obvious to see that the child had lost more than half her hair. No wonder she was scared. “It looks bad,” the girl whispered in a candid voice. “Does it hurt when it comes out?”

“No, it doesn’t. Does yours hurt?”

“Only when they give me medicines.” She sighed. “I don’t want to come to the hospital anymore.”

Layla stood. Someone had indeed misplaced this child, and it was important to take her back. Moments ago, she was dreading the next step she needed to take in the hospital, but now she was filled with a newfound purpose. “I know, dear. Even I don’t like hospitals and medicines, but we have to do it because if we don’t, we won’t get better. You do want to be healthy, don’t you?”

The girl stared at Layla for a moment before she nodded. “I do.”

“Good then. Let me take you to your mommy and the doctor and they can give you the medicines that will make you strong.” Bending down, she wiped the tears from the child’s cheeks. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

“I’m as scared as you,” she said. “Maybe together, we can be strong.”

Much to her surprise, the child slipped her fingers into Layla’s hand. “Okay, then.”

Together, they marched out of the room.

Layla didn’t have a clue as to where she needed to take the child. Perhaps she could ask the receptionist.

Just as they stepped towards the reception, a doctor came sprinting down the stairs. “There you are, Charlotte. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

My, oh my! This was some eye candy. Layla wasn’t often impressed with a man’s looks, but his warm, Espresso-colored eyes and the friendly smile on his face made her heart pound in her chest. Forgetting her own woes, she stared at him as if he were an angel sent from heaven.

His gaze focused on her and narrowed as he saw her holding the girl’s hand. “Hi. My name is Clint. Dr. Clint Collins. Did you find her?”

“Actually…she found me.” Layla finally found the words that were stuck in her throat. “I was sitting in the waiting area when she came in.”

“Ah! Come on, Charlotte. We’ve been waiting for you.”

In response, the girl hid behind Layla. “I don’t want to go.”

Once more, her heart squeezed in sympathy at the young child’s plight. It couldn’t be easy to be stuck in this place where everything looked scary and hostile. “You want me go up with you, Charlotte?”

The girl nodded.

Layla straightened.

The doctor kept eyeing her with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “She seems to trust you. Come along then. It’s time for her treatment, and her mother is a bit agitated.”

Layla held the child’s hand as they climbed up the stairs.

The pediatric oncology department occupied the first floor.

A tall woman, with auburn hair, was pacing the floor. “Charlotte, it was naughty of you to run away.” Seeing her daughter’s hand in Layla’s, she frowned. “Who are you?”

Layla introduced herself. “Charlotte and I have become friends, haven’t we?”

“We have,” the girl confirmed. She didn’t let go of Layla’s hand. “Will you wait for me while I go inside?”

“Sure.” Layla bent to give the child a hug. Her delicate, small body seemed fragile, but the rosy flush on her cheeks indicated that she wasn’t doing so badly. “Good luck!”

When Dr. Collins held out his hand, the girl took it. She strolled inside with him while Layla took a seat.

“She doesn’t like coming to the hospital,” her mother admitted. “But if she doesn’t get the treatment, she won’t get well.”

Layla nodded. Sure, it was necessary but it seemed obvious the child needed more reassurance than what her mother was capable of giving. Perhaps she was being unsympathetic. It couldn’t be easy to see her child go through such a nightmare. Rather than ask any questions, Layla sat and waited for Charlotte.

The mother took out a phone and began to type out some messages.

Layla could have easily left now that the girl was inside, but she did promise Charlotte that she would wait and she didn’t feel like breaking her promise.

A couple of hours later, Dr. Collins appeared with the girl.

She was seated in a wheelchair and looked much weaker.

Layla bit her bottom lip as she gazed at the child’s pale cheeks. The radiation appeared to have sucked out all her energy.

The mother stood. She bent to give her a hug. “Ready to leave?”

The child nodded, but her eyes sought Layla. Seeing her, she smiled.

Layla went forward and patted the child’s hand. “You were brave, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“Soon, it shall be over, okay? And you will be as well as all your other friends.”

The mother took the wheelchair and led her out but not before Layla saw the beautiful smile on the child’s face. Once they left, she sighed. It was time to get on with finding a solution to her problems. Much to her consternation, the doctor was still there, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

“You’re very good with children. Are you a teacher?”

She shifted on her feet, feeling awkward by the attention he gave her. “Actually, I’m a model.”

“Really?” he blinked in surprise. “Well, you’re definitely beautiful enough to be one.”

The compliment threw her off. She was used to men coming on to her, but the sincerity that reflected in his eyes told her he actually meant what he said. “Thank you.” She took in a deep breath and then let is out slowly. “I should go…”

“Are you visiting someone?”

“I’m here for some tests, and I was supposed to wait downstairs.”

Belatedly she remembered that she might have missed her chance to go to the lab. As if he understood her predicament, the doctor held out his hand. She handed him her papers. He studied them. Layla felt a little self-conscious as his gaze moved over her chart. What is he thinking? Would he still think she was beautiful when he realized she was fast becoming bald?

And why the hell did she care about what he thought?