Page 93 of Torrid Passion
“But seriously, how many other former reigning Miss Americas do you know?” he asks.
“Touché,” she laughs. “Don’t you agree, Kyla? Loki is turning into a fine young man.”
Our eyes meet. For a few short seconds, it’s only the two of us.
“Sweetie, has the cat got your tongue?” her mom's voice draws us back into the present.
“He is…” She pauses. “You wear a tux well.” There’s an unmistakable touch of shyness in her words.
“Thanks,” I say. “After my mom and yours, you’re the most beautiful woman at this event.” The compliment slips out of my mouth before I think better of it.
Shit.
Kyla’s eyes grow wide as her cheeks burst into flames.
“Without seeing your mom, I already agree!” Mr. O’Keeffe chuckles.Thank God he didn’t pick up on that.“Speaking of which, where are your parents?” he scans the room before locking eyes with me again.
“Mom must be wrangling millions from a rich Hollywood-type as we speak.”
“As she should,” Mrs. O’Keeffe says. “Honestly, your mom is an angel. She puts so much work into that charity.”
“Good for her,” Mr. O’Keeffe says. “Paloma is right. Your mom does amazing work.”
“She does. I'm very proud of her. The whole family is.”
“You should be,” Keller says.
Kyla remains quiet.
“You and your parents need to come over for dinner in the coming weeks,” Mr. O’Keeffe says. “We’re all letting life go by. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s a great idea. I’m sure they’re in.”
“Good. It’s settled!” Mr. O’Keeffe says. “I’ll text your dad with some dates. It’s perfect since Dr. Berkshire and I have a score to settle.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Oh God, not that again,” Mrs. O’Keeffe rolls her eyes.
“Your dad beat me the last time we hung out together—on the golf course and the basketball court… in the same weekend. I've been training. I'm ready for a rematch,” he chuckles.
“Dad, you’re just going to end up hurting yourself. Dr. Berkshire plays to win,” Keller chuckles.
“Hush, boy. I got this,” Mr. O’Keeffe tells him. “Dr. Berkshire is going down.”
Good luck with that.
Dad takes golf and basketball as seriously as he does his vocation.
My father is one of LA’s top cardiologists. I grew up in Brentwood. Not Beverly Park—like Kyla—still, a wealthy neighborhood. My parents insisted on sending Harlow to the best school. That’s where she met Kyla. They both attended the same private Catholic elementary school in Beverly Hills. They were best friends well before my father saved Kyla’s grandfather’s life. Kassidy O’Keeffe had a massive heart attack at a Sunday family reunion dinner. He was rushed to the hospital. Dad was his appointed surgeon. On the dramatic day he operated on Kassidy O’Keeffe, the patriarch flatlined three times. Dad refused to give up on him. It was a physically and mentally draining operation that lasted several hours, but in the end, Dad saved him. A decade and a half later, the old man is still alive and kicking. The O’Keeffe brothers never forgot what my father did to save their father. They took us in like family, inviting us to holidays, dinners, birthday parties and random celebrations. The girls only grew closer and formed an inseparable bond.
“I’m sorry, Mr. O’Keefe. Mrs. O’Keeffe,” an Asian man wearing a three-piece slim-fitting purple suit interrupts. “I’m Russell Takahashi with theEntertainment Weekly. Could I get a few photos?”
“Absolutely!” Mr. O’Keeffe says. “Is that okay with everybody?”
“Yes!” Mrs. O’Keeffe nods.
“Sounds good to me!” Keller says.
