Free Bon Bon Beauty (Plus Size Romance 3) by Lynn Cooper Page A

magazines.
    Parker attempted to wedge his way through the crowd, but they had formed a Fort Knox-like wall and showed no signs of moving.  “Will you ladies please step aside and give me some room to work?”
    A short, stout African-American woman who looked to be about seventy moved back a few feet, allowing him room to kneel beside his patient.  He placed two fingers on the young woman’s neck and found her pulse to be strong and steady. He lifted her eyelids to check her pupils.  They were a normal size.  No dilation.  All good signs.  Glancing at the septuagenarian, he asked, “What’s the victim’s name?”
    “Honey child, you looking at the one and only Saffron a.k.a. Bon Bon Butler.  She come up hard and fast in a trailer park down by Terse Row Hill.  She barely survived being raised by her now-deceased crackhead mama.  Never had no daddy.  She ain’t a victim.  She a survivor.”
    Not quite knowing how to respond, Parker nodded.  “I don’t see an alert bracelet or necklace on Miss Butler. Does she have any medical conditions that you know of?”
    “Yes, she do.  She got the hippogliceema.  Lawd-a-mercy, I told her it was time for her snack.  But, no! Old cranky Myrtle over there couldn’t wait.  She just had to keep on pushing until she got her nappy head dyed blue.”
    Myrtle snapped, “Nappy? Have you had a look in the mirror, Wavalee Tisdale? I’ve seen better hair on a Dammit Doll than what’s sproutin’ out yore head.”
    Parker cleared his throat loudly.  “Ms. Tisdale, are you sure it’s hypoglycemia and not hyper glycemia?”
    “She got whichever one is low.  Her sugar never goes high.”
    He pulled a glucose monitor from his bag.  Sticking Saffron’s finger confirmed her blood sugar was definitely low enough to cause a fainting spell.  Immediately, he placed a quick dissolving glucose tab under her tongue.
    Within seconds of absorption, her eyes fluttered open.  All the women in the beauty parlor clapped and cheered, then dispersed.  Most of them took seats under hairdryers, picking up previously discarded magazines as if nothing had happened. 
    Taking Saffron’s hand in his, Parker gazed into her pretty eyes.  They were the color of melted chocolate—warm and sweet.  He offered her his most reassuring smile and said, “I’m Parker Sloan. Welcome back.”
     
    SAFFRON SLOWLY PULLED HER hand away from the hottest man she had ever laid eyes on.  She could feel the heat of attraction burning her face as she struggled to sit up.  When he spoke, the deep sexy timbre of his voice made her tingle all over.
    “Take it easy, Miss Butler.  You don’t want to get up too fast.”
    She waved his words away.  “I’m fine.  I forgot to eat, that’s all.”
    A jolt of electricity shot through her limbs when he put his arm around her waist and lifted her to a standing position.  Walking her over to one of the salon chairs, he supported her while she sat down.
    With touching concern in his voice, he said, “That glucose tab won’t last long.  You really need to get something of substance in you right away.”
    Wavalee spoke up.  “Saffron, baby, throw me the key to the display case.  I want to grab some of these beautiful bon bons you made for—”
    Parker’s words came out as a command.  “No candy! Miss Butler needs some healthy fats, proteins and complex carbohydrates to steadily raise her blood sugar and keep it level.”
    Saffron cringed at the expression on her best client’s face.  The hunky paramedic had no idea what he’d done. Nobody interrupted Ms. Tisdale and got away with it.
    With her fists balled atop her hips, Wavalee bobbed her neck back and forth with the attitude of a much younger woman.  The curlers on her head flopped furiously as she spat words of anger.  “You best take it down a notch, fool! These bon bons ain’t for Saffron.  They was for you.  But, not now! Your rude ass done gone too far.”
    Saffron felt sorry for