Page 11 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
She chuckles, wiping her brow. “I’ll try to keep a handle on things for their sake.”
“Good, because I don’t want them hi-jacking phones andbombarding me with guilt-ridden text messages.”
We pull into the airport parking lot, taking a ticket at the boom gate. Once we park, we make our way over to the departures lounge. As we approach the area where security scans everybody’s luggage, a local hockey team streams in. Their big, burly frames crowd the small space, and my throat constricts as I watch them suck all the air with nothing to spare.
I back away from our space in the cue, gulping for any morsel of oxygen I can grasp. Mom hurries after me, grabbing onto my arm and tugging me back.
“Josie,” she says firmly. “If you can’t handle this line, I’m not letting you on the plane.”
I shiver. “Wh-wh-what?”
She looks me dead in her eyes, worry glossing her gaze. “You’re about to walk into a world filled with Hollywood-types. If you can’t handle our local airport and a hockey team, you won’t survive.”
I sniff hard as my eyes itch with tears. “Don’t say that.”
“Look at me,” she says softly. “I can’t let you go if panic will take you over.”
I swallow hard and strain to say, “I need to see him.”
Mom nods. “I know. But you’re going alone. I’m scared for you.”
I look back at the broad-shouldered team passing through security. “If it’s just me and Wyatt, I’ll be okay.”
“Remember all the times you said you’d be okay because Wyatt was there,” Mom whispers. “You never stepped foot into any of those concerts.”
I sigh, heart falling to the pit of my stomach. “They’re just too crowded.”
“He’s still a celebrity,” Mom warns. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“Can’t we just wait until they all pass through?” I plead. “I’ll befine. I promise.”
I can tell by her expression that Mom doesn’t believe me, but she lets me line up behind the team and their coaches. We finally move through the line, after my luggage passes through the scanner, and a security guard waves a scanner wand over our bodies.
We’re given directions to the private boarding lounge, and on our way through, I grin in wonder at the sparkling white Learjet waiting on the tarmac. The Circle 8 logo is proudly displayed at the back end of the plane.
“Hello, Josie?”
I look to the side, and near the glass sliding doors is a familiar looking man wearing a sharp suit.
I place a hand on my chest. “Yes, that’s me.”
We move over to him and he holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Randall, Erika’s assistant.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand. “I remember you from the video call last night.”
Randall chuckles. “Yes, it’s been a long night.”
Mom shakes his hand, introducing herself, “Hi, I’m Rosa Bartlett. Did you fly in this morning?”
“Yes,” Randall replies. “With everything we’ve been organizing for Wyatt’s release from the Clearview Clinic, there hasn’t been much room for sleep. I had to work on the flight here, and there’s still more to do as we fly back.” He smiles at me. “Speaking of which, are you ready to go?”
Nervousness cramps my stomach and I shiver. “I guess.”
Mom rubs my back. “Please, be careful, darling. Oh,geez, I’m having regrets. I really don’t think you should go.”
My blood runs cold. “Please, don’t do this to me.”
She eyes Randall and then sniffs as she looks back at me. “Am I really letting you board a plane with a stranger?”
