Page 72 of Don't Remind Me
As I neared reception, commotion from outside reached my ears, growing louder with each step. A single glance out the lobby doors told me pens weren’t my biggest problem anymore.
Protestors lined the sidewalk in front of the hotel. A lot of them.
There had been a handful outside during yesterday’s panels, holding signs with graphic images depicting the very misinformation about abortion the virtual panel had aimed to correct. We’d expected those same people would come out again tonight, but I wasn’t looking at a handful of people. There was a whole crowd, wearing blue T-shirts with “Abortion is Murder” across the front in white block letters, some holding the same graphic signs as yesterday.
I stepped outside and their chants hit me like a wave, growing louder as the ones in front spotted me. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them had contributed to the more colorful comments left on my social media.
Right now, I didn’t care. I just needed to find Geffery.
He was a few feet down the sidewalk, talking to a police officer and one of the hotel’s staff. As soon as he saw me, he waved me over.
“What’s the plan?” I asked him over the noise. “We’re minutes out from guests arriving.”
The ones who had traveled from out of town were staying at the hotel and wouldn’t have to pass through the protestors, but plenty of the guests were local. They wouldn’t even be able to pull up to the valet right now.
“This is Officer Liang.” Geffery pointed at the police officer, whose hand I shook. “He’s got men setting up barriers to keep the protestors back. Trevor here,” he said, gesturing to the young hotel employee, “will be at one end of the block, directing guests to the rear of the building where the new valet station is being set up. We’ll have someone else at the other end of the block doing the same. The goal is to have guests avoid the protest altogether. I’ll be here in case any show up at this door and need an escort.”
I nodded, fully in agreement. “Thank you. Let me know if you need anything from me.”
“I’ve got this. Go do your thing inside.”
Normally, that’d be a tall order with a potential crisis looming, but there was nothing for me to do out here, no way for me to fix this on my own. I trusted my team to take care of it, and maybe more surprising was how good that felt compared to doing it all myself.
Geffery had my back, and so did Talia, so did Robin, so did Jase. Success or failure wasn’t mine to carry alone, and it didn’t stand on a single incident or stumble. I still had one hell of a fundraiser to pull off, and I had every intention of doing just that.
I’d taken two steps toward the hotel entrance when a flash of red caught the edge of my vision.
“Dani!” Geffery shouted.
I had no time to react before something exploded against my side.
Chapter Thirty
Jase
My hands were shaking.
That was how nervous I was. Like I was about to ask a girl to prom. I guess, in a way, I was.
I messed with my collar a few more times, not making it better or worse, just needing the excuse to stand here another minute so my heart could stop pummeling my rib cage. I wasn’tproposing,for fuck’s sake.
Though, the fact that the thought didn’t have me lurching to empty my stomach in the stall behind me was interesting.
One last look in the mirror, one more deep breath through my nose, and I picked up the duffel now holding my chef clothes and pushed my way out the bathroom door.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?” an alarmed-sounding voice said from around the corner. “Security is going through our camera footage to find the person responsible. If you want to press charges?—”
“No, really, that’s not necessary,” Dani replied. Her voice had my strides lengthening as worry shot through my chest. “I’ll manage. Just please take the pens to the ballroom. I appreciate it.”
We practically bowled into one another as she rounded the corner to the bathrooms. I caught her by the elbows, giving me a clear view of the red liquid splashed across the front of her dress.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Concern fell from my words even though whatever covered her was too bright to be blood. If it had been, she’d be bleeding out on the floor, not standing in front of me, calmly dictating tasks to hotel staff.
“I’m fine. It’s just paint.” She studied the stain. “My dress is ruined, which sucks, but I have an extra with me, and who knows. Maybe a dry cleaner will have some luck with this.” She pulled the skirt of her dress to the side, inspecting it closer.
I ran my hands gently along her arms, trying to comfort myself as much as her. “Where’d the paint come from?”
“A bunch of protestors outside have water balloons filled with it. I think it’s supposed to look like blood. Probably because I’m a murdering whore and all.” I saw red for an entirely different reason at the thought of anyone calling her that, but I pushed my anger aside as she let out a flat chuckle. “I guess the virtual panel didn’t change their opinions on the situation, huh? Not that we really expected it to.”
