Page 143 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“Thank you.” The man takes the document back. “I’ll get this processed immediately.”
Erika lifts her lemon-wedged, sparkling water at the man. “Thank you, Raymond.”
Martin, the finance guy, gets up from the table. “Raymond, I’ll walk you out.”
The men shake hands and leave the restaurant.
Portia watches Raymond leave, turns to Wyatt, then back to where the men left, and then lands on Erika. “Why was Raymond here?” Portia asks. “You had Wyatt sign something?”
Richmond leans over and pats Portia’s hand. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Wyatt’s just getting back to work, that’s all.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and meet Wyatt’s eyes.
There’s only one document I know Wyatt was mulling over signing.
Emancipation papers.
I murmur under my breath, “Was it?”
He nods slightly.
I blow out a breath.
Whoa. This is huge.
Erika keeps her glass lifted, cheering, “To Wyatt getting back in the studio.”
Richmond lifts his glass of dark red liquid. “And to Portia being by his side.”
Everyone around the table cheers. Portia sends Wyatt an encouraging look, and he replies in a small, hesitant smile.
As everyone else clinks their glasses together, Wyatt shrugs, lifts his water glass, and tilts it toward me. He then turns as Portia raises her glass toward him.
“Congratulations, baby,” she says sweetly. “You’re becoming you again.”
As they clink their glasses together, my stomach sloshes like a half-empty water bottle, rolling around the backseat of a moving car.
Erika looks down her nose at me with a wry smile. “We need to get Josie a glass. She’s not looking happy.”
Wyatt looks back at me, his budding enthusiasm dwindling as he views my frown.
I can’t help panning around all the faces and feeling a heavy dose of ick. “Wyatt’s still in recovery,” I say in a small voice. I sniff and gulp down the sourness lining the back of my throat. “You’re not going to push him, are you?”
Wyatt’s eyes shine and he smiles at me with appreciation.
“We had meetings with his physical therapist and speech therapists, who are both onboard with Wyatt pursuing his singing career,” Erika states. “Savanna will have a conference call with the guys at the studio to work out the ergonomics. All that’s to say, Josie, you don’t need to worry about Wyatt’s health and safety. We have it at the front of our minds.”
“I’ll be okay, Joze,” Wyatt says, brushing back one of my curls. “Portia says she’ll help me get reacquainted with all the studio equipment.”
Portia leans forward to make eye contact with me. “You don’t have to worry, Josie. I’ll protect our boy.”
My teeth grit and I bite the inside of my cheek.Our boy?
I force myself to smile. “Thanks.”
“It would be so nice to hang out with you before we leave,” Portia continues. “Did they put you on the same floor as me? I’m in the presidential suite.”
“Oh, my old room,” it blurts out of me before I can catch it.
