Page 7 of Shy Girls Can’t Date Celebrities (Shy Girls Sweet Romances #6)

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?”

I nod with a tight mouth, following her toward the revolving doors.

We are then shown into a black SUV. When Lexy and I buckle into the backseat, I ask, “Are you visiting Wyatt too?”

Lexy shakes her head. “No, it’s just on the way to my office. With all the meetings going on at the moment, we’re running short on drivers.”

I breathe out, settling into my seat. “Oh, okay. Makes sense.”

Lexy nudges me playfully. “Did having someone from PR in the car freak you out?”

I smile bashfully. “Just a bit.”

“We’re so thrilled at the prospect of Wyatt’s recovery,” Lexy says, bouncing in her seat. “We’re really hoping your visit does the magic trick.”

I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

“You know, jog his memory. Seeing all of us just confuses him, but he remembers you.” Lexy’s zealousness grows as her eyes widen. “What if he sees you and all his memories come back?”

I shrink in my seat. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

Lexy pats my knee. “Don’t worry, hon. We’re not expecting it to happen immediately.”

Eep . But they are expecting it at some point.

Lexy’s phone rings and she lifts an index finger. “Sorry, hon, I gotta get this.” She answers the phone with a boost of enthusiasm. “Richmond, darling, how are you?”

I look out the window at the bumper to bumper traffic spread across the three lanes as Lexy makes small talk. My ears prick when her tone gets more serious.

“Don’t they understand Portia needs to get back stateside?” Lexy says into the phone. “She and Wyatt were in the middle of recording a collab. The two are very close.”

I cringe, listening to half the conversation, and picturing Portia in ‘ No Way, Goodbye’ with Wyatt. Sometimes it’s hard to picture her perfectly plastic face because of how often I’ve edited myself into her place.

“Look, it’s not good enough,” Lexy says into the phone. “Do you realize how bad it looks that Portia hasn’t visited him yet? Circulation of their relationship was peaking. If she doesn’t get back here soon, we will have lost momentum.”

My head spins. If Wyatt saw Portia would he recognize her? How intense was they’re relationship?

“We need to put a rush on the European leg of her press tour and get her back here,” Lexy says. “Okay, good to hear. Chat soon. Ciao.” She puts the phone down, shaking her head. “Who said orchestrating a romance between two big-name teen stars would be easy?”

I look up, my jaw tensing. “They’re not really together?”

“This is show business,” Lexy replies with a chuckle. “Who’s to say what’s real?”

“Will Wyatt remember her?”

Lexy shrugs. “They can start over. It’ll be quite cute, actually.”

I pick at my fingernails, hating the thought of Portia comforting Wyatt throughout his recovery.

“We can’t be selfish with his time,” Lexy says bluntly. “Do you know how big his starpower is, hon? There’s a lot of people counting on him. Think of all the fans.”

“I’m aware of them. I might be his biggest fan.”

Lexy chuckles. “Adorable.” The car slows and she taps on her window. “Here we are. Clearview.”

I reach for my seatbelt, and Lexy presses on my hand.

I look up and her expression is soft as she whispers, “We’re all on edge, hon. Losing Wyatt was an insanely scary concept. We’re beyond grateful he’s in recovery. We just want him back in regular form.”

I shrink, muttering, “I want that too. ”

She squeezes my hand. “Please, do all you can. He means so much to us. We need him back.”

“But...” I falter. “He’s still here.” I look up at the building through the window. “He’s right in there.”

Lexy releases my hand, frowning. “Not the old Wyatt.”

Oh boy. Just how much has he changed?

“Thank you so much for coming and helping him.”

I smile. “Of course.”

Lexy exits the car, and before I can catch up to her, a woman in a pale pink blazer and matching pencil skirt darts towards her with her phone angled in her palm.

“Lexy,” the woman calls. “You’re back in town? Can I only imagine this means Wyatt’s getting back in front of the cameras?”

Lexy grins, eyeing the woman’s phone, which displays an audiowave. Wow, she’s recording this. “Harriet, darling, don’t exert yourself. When we have news, we’ll break it.”

“By giving me exclusive access?” Harriet asks overzealously.

Lexy hums a laugh. “Hon, if you keep camping in front of this clinic, who knows what’ll happen.”

Harriet then turns to me and her eyes widen with glee. “And who’s this? Doesn’t exactly fit the mold of one of your PAs.”

“Harriet, what did I say about exerting yourself?” Lexy asks with an air of condescension. “Don’t worry your pretty head with who this attractive young lady is.”

I choke on a breath and my insides flip. Why the heck did Lexy describe me like that?

Harriet licks her lips like she’s spotted easy prey. “Oh, a friend of Wyatt’s?”

Crap .

Would she stop looking at me like that?

Why the heck are we even talking to this woman ?

I don’t want to be mentioned in an article for whatever trashy website she works for.

“Sorry, Harriet, we can’t stay out here on the sidewalk all day like some people,” Lexy says, placing a hand on my back. “We’ve got to be going.”

Harriet lets us pass, whispering rapidly into her phone while her eyes stay steely on us.

“Who the heck was that?” I pant as Lexy and I enter the building.

“Just a gossip chaser from Celeb-Eze dot com,” Lexy replies. “She’ll absolutely love digging into the mystery of who you are.”

I let out a nervous squeak. “But I’m nobody.”

Lexy shrugs. “Won’t stop them from keeping Wyatt on the front page. Now, come on. I’ll introduce you to Dr. Fincher before I head downtown.”

Inside The Clearview Clinic, we move through an impressive and sparkling foyer. Lexy takes me to an elevator, and inside she hits the number five button. The top floor of the clinic.

“I had him paged before we left the hotel,” Lexy says when we step out onto the fifth floor. “Oh, there he is.” She snaps her fingers, calling out, “Dr. Fincher, over here.”

A man in blue scrubs and a white coat paces toward us.

“Doc, I know you’re busy, but this is Josie,” Lexy says, gesturing at me. “Wyatt’s school friend.”

“Ah, right, Josie.” Dr. Fincher nods, knowingly. “I’m Wyatt’s neurologist.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Lexy pats my arm. “Good luck, Josie. Hope everything goes well.”

I wave her off as she takes the elevator back down to the lobby.

“Have you been given the rundown on Wyatt’s condition?” Dr. Fincher asks .

“Just that has some form of amnesia,” I reply. “I really don’t know the details of how this happened.”

“That makes two of us,” the doctor replies, taking me off guard. “Yes, Wyatt has short-term memory loss after having severe emotional shock. He did suffer a head injury, but the extent doesn’t correspond with his symptoms.”

I nod, trying to take in the information. “Okay.”

“He’s preparing to go back home,” the doctor continues, “but I haven’t signed off yet.

I haven’t pinpointed the cause of his impairments.

He’s clearly suffering from a traumatic event, but no one has come forward with an eyewitness account of the incident.

I’m worried about something undiscovered triggering him when he returns home. ”

“But didn’t the accident happen on the movie set?”

“I’ve been given very vague information.” He gives me a kind smile. “Your visit is a last ditch effort to bring some clarity on the matter. We are hoping seeing an old friend will relieve some of the stress he’s been feeling.”

“How exactly can I make that happen?”

“Because Wyatt doesn’t remember becoming famous. He remembers spending time with you.”

Goosebumps flood my skin and I shiver in place. “Okay,” I breathe. “I hope I can make a difference.”

Dr. Fincher squeezes my shoulder. “There’s no pressure on you. I’m just concerned because he is suffering from a neurological issue, however I can’t define what it is.”

“Is that abnormal?”

“It is common for neurological issues to form without clear prompting. However, his team has stated a traumatic accident happened on set. His scans just tell another story.”

My brain hurts from the conflicting information.

The doctor motions to the end of the hall. “Mr. Hayes’s room is last on the right. Just focus on visiting an old friend. Don’t try to jog his memory, he doesn’t need that right now. The past few weeks, all he’s had is scared and confused moments. All he needs now is a new happy memory.”

I smile. “I can work with that.”

I thank the doctor and make my way along the pristine hallway and find another broad man in all-black, standing outside the last door on the right.

I clutch my elbows and sheepishly ask the man, “Umm. Is Wyatt in there?”

The man looks me up and down, folding his arms. “Who’s asking?”

I gulp and my knees knock. “I’m... I’m Josie. Josie Bartlett.”

He scrutinizes me, taking an excruciatingly long time to respond. He finally huffs and points a thumb at the door. “You can head inside.”

I suck in a breath. “ Eep . Really?”

The man crooks an eyebrow, clearly not into idle chit chat. I hurriedly nod and turn the doorknob, despite the dread seeping through me.

In a shaky voice, I call out, “Hello?”