Page 45 of Brooklynaire
Annnnd the world tries to tilt against my wishes once again. I let out a groan and grab thewall.
“Rebecca? Are you okay?” It’s Lauren’s voice, Ithink.
“I don’t know,” Iadmit.
“What’s thematter?”
My next groan is more frustrated than ill. “I wasn’t supposed to drink. But I thought a single glass of champagne would beokay.”
“And it isn’t?” Laurenguesses.
“Not so much,no.”
“Do you feelsick?”
Slowly I open the stall door. Lauren is staring back at me with a worried face, still looking impeccable in her bluegown.
“I thought I might be sick, but my stomach is fine.” I ease my way out of the stall, still feeling unsteady. “My head is all woozy, though. I need to goupstairs.”
“I’ll go with you,” she saysquickly.
This sudden kindness makes my eyes feel hot. But there’s one problem. “Don’t tell Nate. He’ll be pissed atme.”
“Oh, screw him,” Lauren says, reaching over to take my hand. “He doesn’t controlus.”
“But he’s gone to so much trouble for me, and I’m such an idiot.” I rub the side of my head, where a throbbing headache is shaping up. “The fancy new doctor said not to drink. And I didn’tlisten.”
“Lesson learned, then,” Lauren says lightly. “Where are yourshoes?”
“I left them under abarstool.”
“Sit here.” Lauren steers me onto an upholstered sofa opposite the mirrors. This is the nicest ladies’ room I’ve ever felt sick in. “I’ll find yourshoes.”
“Really? I’m sorry. You’re being so nice tome.”
Lauren sighs, and I realize how that must sound to her.You’re being so nice—as opposed to all those other times when you were a raving bitch. “Just don’t goanywhere.”
I close my eyes and try to take a few deep breaths. I don’t feel drunk, exactly. Justoff. It’s not the end of the world, but I’m sad anyway. I’d been feeling so well earlier, and sooptimistic.
Hello, square one. I’mback.
Lauren returns with my shoes just five minutes later. I clutch them in one hand and hold onto her with my other one. We make it to the elevators withoutincident.
Outside my hotel room, she waits patiently while I fumble with my key card and finally swipe it. “I’ve got it now,” I mumble. “Thanks for yourhelp.”
“Let me come in for a minute,” she insists. “That way if our overlord interrogates me later, I can tell him for sure that you’refine.”
“Nate issobossy,” I agree, pushinginside.
“As are all men,” Laurengrumbles.
She follows me inside, and I’m too tired to care. I yank my nightie out of my suitcase and Lauren whistles. “I’m sorry you’re not getting a hookup with a basketball player. If that was your plan for theevening.”
I glance at the lacy negligee I’m pulling over my head and give a drunken shrug. “This isn’t for special occasions. I always wear lingerie. It’s my way of reminding myself that sex stillexists.”
“Huh. I should try that. And Nate would pee himself if he saw you inthis.”
“Why?” I ask, and then I burp like a prom-datedrunk.
