Page 1 of Love in Bloom

CHAPTER ONE

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Camille swiped the peach-colored cream blush from the petri dish and swabbed it onto a slide. After looking at it under the microscope, she adjusted the focus to see the blob more clearly. With a sigh, she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “It’s still not right. What are we missing?”

Rachelle removed her lab coat. “Sleep.”

Wanda stretched her arms over her head as she stared at the whiteboard full of formulas. “Fish and chips.”

Camille joined Wanda at the board. “I don’t understand it. The math is right. The process is right.”

“But the product is wrong.” Rachelle gathered her purse from a drawer at her station. “Wrong consistency, so something in the math or the process is wrong.”

“There has to be a way.” Camille paced around the makeup lab.

“That’s our cue to leave you to it,” Wanda said and grabbed her purse. “Go home and sleep in your bed tonight.”

“Yes, inspiration might come in your sleep,” Rachelle added, and then yawned.

The door opened as her CFO, Connor, entered. With a wave of their hands, the women exited.

Camille drummed her fingers.

“You have to leave this room,” Connor declared.

“I’m this close.” Camille held her thumb and forefinger with barely a space between them.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve missed dinner three times already with Maddie and me. You’re coming tonight.” He sounded like her mum when she’d had it with Camille’s experiments.

She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to figure this out. There has to be a way to manufacture long lasting all natural blush.”

Her cousin blocked her path and took her hands. “Camille, you smell. The room smells. It’s obvious you’ve been eating and sleeping in the lab for the past three weeks. You missed Clara’s last visit. You need proper food and rest. This pace is going to kill you if you don’t slow down and have a life outside of work.”

She frowned at him and rubbed her neck, the pressing need to solve the problem weighing her down. “You know how I am when I’m in research mode.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “I know.”

“I have never failed to come up with the right product. I won’t fail the company, and I won’t leave this room until I solve the problem!” She massaged her left shoulder.

Connor gripped her upper arms. “You’ve gone quite pale.” He set her on a stool. “When was the last time you ate?”

Camille scanned the room for the wrapper or box her last meal had come in. Her vision turned blurry, and she rubbed a hand across her eyes. “I’m not sure. I think it was today.” What was happening?

“You think?” Connor lowered his face to meet hers.

Camille tried to concentrate on Connor’s gray eyes. “Why are you blurry?”

“I’m getting you some water, and then I’m taking you home.” He grabbed a cup from the dispenser and filled it from the water cooler. “If I have to carry you out of the building over my shoulder, I will.”

Camille gasped as her strength drained away, and she slid off the stool. She weakly muttered, “Connor.”

“Camille!” He was next to her in an instant, brushing her blonde hair from her face.

She closed her eyes. “I feel strange.”

“Forget the shoulder. I’m calling an ambulance.” He dialed for emergency help.

Through slitted eyes, Camille panted on the floor, fear flooding her. “What’s happening?” she whispered. Dimly she registered Connor’s words as he spoke to emergency services: cousin, collapse, dehydration, weak pulse. She lost track of time as hands hoisted her onto a gurney and into a moving vehicle while Connor rattled off her important information.

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