Page 18 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Hmm. Maybe this is cuter.
With a huff, I toss it back on the bed. No, I wanna wear pink. Heck, Erika’s not babysitting me. This Lexy person hasn’t seen what I was wearing on the plane.
Oof. But she is from PR. What does that mean? Is she going to spin a story I’m a bad dresser? Is this outfit bad? I sling my head in my hands and groan. Ugh. As if I wasn’t already nervous to see Wyatt, now I have wardrobe mind games to deal with.
Instead of making a decision, I scoop up my phone and call Mom. It rings out twice before she answers.
“Hi honey,” she says in a rush. “Sorry, it’s a madhouse at work. But I’m going on my lunch break now.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, slouching forward. “I’m just in the hotel room, waiting to see Wyatt.”
“Is it exactly like we saw last night?”
“Even better in the flesh.”
“Then why is your tone low? Is it these people? Are they treating you...”
“It’s fine,” I cut in. “They’re fine. I’m just nervous about seeing Wyatt.”
“Darling, you’ll be okay. He remembers you.”
“I know, but so much time has passed.”
“Not to him. Imagine how scared he must be feeling in that hospital.”
A lump balls in my throat. “I know.”
“I wish I could give you a big hug.”
I exhale slowly and stand from the bed. “I’m okay. Just needed to hear your voice. I’m just going to get changed.”
“But I thought...”
“Long flight,” I blurt. “You know, I should probably freshen up.”
“The hotel probably has a laundry service. I bet they could freshen your outfit overnight.”
“Brilliant.” I snap my fingers, feeling more upbeat. “Thanks, Mom. Talk to you soon. Love you.”
Mom chuckles. “You sound better already. Good luck, darling, and love you too.”
After I hang up from Mom, I move to the landline phone in the living area. I call the front desk and ask about their laundry service, and they guarantee my outfit will be cleaned and back in my closet by the evening. They instruct me to place the clothing items in a laundry bag located in the bedroom closet. I’m told to leave the laundry bag on the dining room table, and housekeeping will come in and collect it.
After a shower and dressed in my green dress, I place my pink outfit where instructed, and leave for the elevator. Inside the elevator, my nervousness grows exponentially with every passing floor. When the doors open on the lobby floor, a woman in a pinstriped pantsuit and silk blouse stands in wait.
“Josie?” she asks.
“Umm, yes.”
She holds out her hand. “Lexy Davenport.”
“Oh, hi.”
Lexy grabs my hand, shaking it roughly. “Thanks for coming, Josie. We’re really excited to have you here.”
I hide my wince in a smile, scared she’ll tear my arm off at the socket. “Thanks.”
Lexy beams at me. “Shall we?”
