Page 91 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“Umm.” Any confidence I had is completely shot. “Umm, I...”
“Spit it out, would you,” Erika grunts. “I need to get back to my meeting.”
“Wyatt wants me to go back to his floor, but I need a new passkey.”
Erika pauses for a moment, filling me with dread. “Anewkey. Where is the key you had? Have you lost it? That would mean you’ve put Wyatt’s safety at jeopardy. Is that what you’re telling me, Josie? Anyone could be on their way up to Wyatt’s floor?”
“No, it’s not just anyone,” my voice tremors. “I gave it to his mother.”
“You didwhat?” Erika hisses. “Why did you do that? Who gave you permission to do that?”
“No one,” I squeak. “She was upset, and Wyatt was asking about his parents.”
Erika groans in fury. “This is not what I need right now. Okay, I’ll meet you on your floor and take you up.” She then yells away from the receiver. “Randall! Get to the penthouse and calm Mrs. Hayes down.”
The line then goes dead and all my nerves frazzle. I shudder, lowering the phone onto the cradle.
Crap.
What have I done?
Crap.
Oh, I really hope Wyatt is okay.
I leave my suite with my bag and wait by the elevator for Erika. When the doors ping open, Randall isn’t with her. She ushers me inside, telling me he dashed up to the penthouse while she tied things up with other associates.
“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” I mutter at my shoes. “She just... She was in my face.”
Erika huffs and the elevator doors ping open. “It’s fine. Wyatt’s parents take a lot to handle.”
Erika marches into the penthouse and I trail behind.
“Why are we not being notified about our son’s whereabouts?” Mrs. Hayes yells from the dining area. As we move through the living space, her wild arm movements come into focus. “We’re left out of the loop, and for some reason, Josie isn’t. She’s spent years without contact with Wyatt. Suddenly, she’s back in the fold and with him every step. Explain to me how this makes sense!”
I stop dead, sick at the thought of making eye contact with the hysterical woman.
Erika steps in to help Randall diffuse the situation, and I pan the room for Wyatt. Since I left the penthouse, it’s been close to forty minutes. I hate the idea of his mother berating him all this time. I’m so angry at myself for not calling Erika before my shower. How could I be so selfish? I should’ve made sure Wyatt got the help he needed before taking care of myself.
Clammy with nerves, my hands twist around the strap of my bag. Quiet and cautiously, I edge along the living area and toward the bedrooms. I keep my eyes peeled to where everyone stands around the dining area. My heart leaps into my throat when I see Wyatt. He sits atthe dining table with his dad standing at his side. When his mother continues to go off on Randall, Wyatt’s thumbs draw circles on his temples.
My teeth grit, realizing how deep the ache in his skull must be burrowing. I move toward the bedrooms and spot Hubert in the hallway.
I gain his attention, whispering, “How long has it been since Wyatt last took his pain meds?”
Hubert looks at his wristwatch. “He should be due again in about fifteen minutes. I’ll ensure they’re ready for him.”
“Thanks.” I gesture at the noise coming from the dining area. “Anyway you can break that up?”
Hubert clasps his hands in front. “It’s not my place, miss.”
My shoulders slouch and I nod in understanding. I then pull my bag off my shoulder. “Umm, I don’t have many clean clothes left. Are there laundry bags here?”
Hubert smiles warmly. “Yes, Miss Bartlett. Just package what you need laundered in the bag located in your closet. If you leave it at the foot of the bed, I’ll have it returned first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
I dump my bag in my bedroom, and then steal enough courage to return to the dining area. When I force myself out of the hall, Wyatt’s eyes brighten at the sight of me.
