Page 140 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Back in my bedroom, I’d basically quit my relationship with Wyatt.
I stand up. But I don’t want that.
Whether I’m here or back home, I need to let him know I’m a part of his life.
I march to the elevator. I’m not bailing on him.
I impatiently press the elevator button too many times. Jenna only took it to the floor below to meet with Portia, but it feels like time stands still. Finally, it pings open at my level. I need to get to the hotel gym before Wyatt leaves for this meeting. I want to be by his side, showing him how much I care.
Twenty-One
I rush out of the elevator, hurriedly following the signs along the hotel floor, pointing me towards the gym. Seriously wish I were more coordinated, or worked harder in PE, because I’m out of breath as I race to find Wyatt.
Puffing and red-faced, I make it to the gym. I swipe my keypass against the glass door and stumble inside. One person is running on a treadmill, another is in the corner using the weights. There’s no one else in the gym.
I fold over with a huff. Dang it, I’m too late.
I straighten myself out, take a steadying breath, and leave the gym. Geez, I really hope this meeting is somewhere in the hotel. I remember Lexy mentioning an office downtown when I first arrived in CherryBeach. If that’s where they’ve gone, I have no hope of reaching them.
I wander the hotel floor, my mind flooded with thoughts of Wyatt. Wow, I really am lost without him. He’s my every waking thought, and when we’re apart, it’s like I’m no longer whole.
Oh, I really hope he’s okay. He mentioned the fog lifting from his mind. I hope they don’t use that as an excuse to overload him. Lately, he’s been looking to me for reassurance. Ugh. I hate that I’m not there for him right now!
I move into the elevator and press the button for the lobby floor. Maybe, just maybe, someone at the front desk will know where they’ve gone. Perhaps they called a car, or made a reservation on their behalf. All I can do is bundle up every smidge of optimism left inside me.
As I walk across the lobby, I have my eyes peeled for anyone I recognize from Circle 8. I move toward the line of people, waiting to be served by the front desk clerks. My eyes continue to wander as I wait in line, and my ears prick to a booming voice.
I spin and view over my other shoulder and my enthusiasm kicks into action. Richmond, the manager assigned to Portia, talks loudly on his phone, and paces the small space in front of the hotel’s restaurant.
Freaking yes!
I slink away from the front desk line, not too eager so I don’t gain Richmond’s attention. We don’t know each other yet, and I don’t want him to flip out and ban me from entering.
As I carefully approach the restaurant, Richmond continues to pace as he yell-talks into his phone. His back is turned, and I quickstep into the restaurant, still winded from my lame athleticism upstairs.
“May I help you?” a server asks, stopping me before I pass the small counter with a plaque reading, ‘Please wait to be seated.’
“Umm, I...” I drag out the syllable, craning my neck to spy Wyatt and his team. “I’m here with Circle 8.” I cringe, hoping I don’t look like a hopelessly adoring fan. “I’m here to meet Wyatt Hayes.”
The server gives me a once over. “I’m sorry, miss, I was told the entire party had already arrived. That table has already ordered.”
“That’s no problem,” I overzealously rush. “I’m not here to eat, just to join them.” A brilliant detail strikes me. “I’m Mr. Hayes’s PA and I’m late. Please, I don’t want to lose my job.”
The server gives a slight nod, probably recalling the number of assistants already at their table. “Okay, miss, please follow me.”
I look up at the ceiling with a relieved sigh. Oh, thank you, Lord, it worked.
I follow the server through the crowded restaurant, filled with boisterous conversations, clinking of glasses, and clanking of utensils on porcelain plates. Soon, my world feels right again when I lay eyes on Wyatt.
He sits back in a dining chair, at a long-stretched table, grinning and laughing as the suits surround him in conversation.
It stops me in my tracks.
He’s happy?
I zero in on the empty seat beside him and my heart bounces happily. He saved it for me. Oh my gosh, how cute. He knew I’d be coming.
The clip clop of stilettos approaches from behind me. I turn and find Portia walking back to the table, Jenna on her heels.
