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She ran through the maze of tables in the crowded hall, certainly catching the attention of those around her. She needed to find the restroom, but mostly she needed to breathe. Too many people. Too hot. Too much of a smell that she couldn’t stand, and it wasonher.
No! This was the way out, not the way to the bathrooms. But her flight reaction had overpowered reason, and she continued to rush toward where she hoped the cool night’s air might be.
Bishop was hot on her tail. “Ella.”
Whether he was clued into her mindset or not, he did his job. In a second, he was on her, moving her through the back of the auditorium as though she didn’t have to walk on her own. Her heel caught on an electrical cord, and his arm carried her those final few feet untilfinally, the fresh, clean air hit her.
She gasped. Her head dropped back, and her mouth hung open.
Outside was better, but shestillsmelled the stench in her hair and on her skin. Not wanting to gag, hating to be this out of control, she stepped away from Bishop, but his large hand pulled her to a stop.
“What just happened?” he asked, warily eyeing her. “This is like the jerky, all over again.”
Panting, she felt the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t hide them and didn’t want him to see. She turned, mumbling, “Nothing. I need a second.”
He spun her back around, assessing the tears and taking a step closer as though he needed to protect her from the world. “The hell it’s nothing.”
“I’m fine.”
“One second, you’re finally loosening up, trying to get me on a stupid video; the next, you’re nothing but a blur of a dress, running for the hills.”
God. Mortification painted her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d just like to know before you haul ass—”
“I don’t eat meat.”
“I know that, Ella.” His jaw went slack as he processed that. “No one asked you to.”
“The smell got to me. When it fell, I lost it.”
He laughed. “The mortified waiter who just tripped?”
“Bishop!”
“I didn’t realize it would mean that you’d have a nervous breakdown at the table. All right, so what are—”
“Ella!”
“Shoot,” she grumbled, hearing Tara’s warpath before she could see her.
Tara strode up in full PR mode. “What. Is. Happening. Here?”
“She needed some air,” Bishop offered.
Tara’s narrowed eyes sliced through them.
“I got a little choked up,” Ella offered.
“Obviously. My notifications went crazy before I realized you had run from the building. If you want to pull a stunt, clue me in so I have the right eyes on you at the right moment.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Tara.” She needed some water, and her nose wrinkled, as she could still smell the splatter on her. “Not something we can plan for.”
Tara’s fingers sped across her phone. “So you say.”
Bishop put his hand on Ella’s back. “Ladies.”
“Are we ready to go back in?” Tara snipped.