Page 11 of The Starlet
“Oh, come on, I need something to tease you about. Other than that, you seem pretty perfect.” A pretty, pink blush rises to her cheeks.
* * *
The flight feels longerthan three hours, and I’m itching to get off the plane as soon as it lands. Not that the company was unpleasant, but I need some fresh air. I think I might have eaten something bad. My stomach is gurgling, and I’m definitely starting to sweat.
“Brad, are you all right? You don’t look so good.” Elena leans her back against the window, keeping some distance between us.
“I’m not feeling well. I think it might have been something I ate.”
The fasten seatbelt sign shuts off as the roar of the engines fades out. I jump out of my seat, taking my small carry-on with me. The stewardess gives me a dirty look as I crowd her space—I really don’t care. I beg her with my eyes to hurry up and unlock the damn door because I don’t want to puke in the middle of the aisle. I need to get out of here before I make a fool of myself.
She opens the door, and I all but run up the ramp to the closest bathroom—where I proceed to toss everything I’ve eaten today.What a way to make an impression.Once I’ve finished, I leave the stall and stand in front of the mirror, looking at myself. I’m sweating, pale, and have tears streaming down my face. I do my best to clean up and pop some gum in my mouth to get rid of the horrific taste.
Sandy is leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, offering a reassuring look.
“How ya feeling, Bradley?”
“Like shit, thanks for asking. Come on, let’s get our bags and get to the room. I want to lie down. Did Elena leave?”
“Yeah. She wanted me to tell you she’ll check in on you in a bit to see how you’re feeling though. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was something I ate. I need to get out of here before whatever it is hits me again.”
* * *
I’ve beenin between the bed and the bathroom for the better part of the day. After each trip, I sweat more and have chills at the same time. I want to die. I’ve stripped down to just my boxers because I can’t stand the feel of my clothes sticking to my overheated skin.
A faint knock on my door pulls me from my restless sleep. I stumble toward the door and pull it open, assuming it’s Sandy coming to check on me. I blink my tired eyes and focus on the beautiful woman standing in front of me. She’s holding a brown paper bag and a bottle of Gatorade.
“Elena, what are you doing here?” My voice is raspy from my trips to the bathroom.
She scans my body and locks her eyes with mine, a light pink blush on her cheeks. “I, um, I just wanted to check on you. I brought you some hydration and some chicken soup. Can I come in?”
She holds the bag and bottle up into my line of vision, and I open the door, allowing her to walk past me. She deposits the food on the table and turns toward me as I climb back into bed, pulling the covers up over my waist. She sits at the edge of the bed and places the inside of her wrist on my forehead. Her skin is cool in comparison to my overheated skin. I want to pull her down next to me and cuddle into her.
“Sorry you’re so sick. I thought this might help you feel better.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. It’s probably best if you don’t stick around. Last thing we need is for you to get what I have. I hope it’s just food poisoning or something.” I try to smile, but I’m sure it comes out as a grimace as my stomach sours again. The smell of the chicken soup hits my senses, and I concentrate on breathing through my nose.In and out. Don’t make a fool of yourself in front of her.
Her face falls, but she gets up and opens the door anyway. “Right. Well, feel better then. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.”
I nod and she leaves. Just as the door closes, I jump out of bed and barely make it to the bathroom for another round.Please, kill me now!
Chapter 7
I’m downstairs waitingfor Tait and Bradley. Chloe, my assistant, hands me my steaming cup of coffee, and I couldn’t be more thankful for it. I take a sip and could swear the caffeine starts working its magic in seconds.Whoever invented this stuff is a genius.
“Thanks, Chloe. Have you seen Bradley yet today? He wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and I’m not sure if he’s going to make it today or not.”
“No, not yet.”
We both turn toward the elevator and watch a few people exit, including Sandy, Bradley’s manager.
“Sandy.” I wave at her, and she makes her way over to me. “How’s Bradley this morning? I stopped by to check on him yesterday, and he really didn’t look good. He hasn’t responded to my text messages.”
“He’s all right. He texted me this morning, saying he’s feeling better and will be down shortly.”
We hear the elevator open, and he steps off with a blonde girl trailing behind him, asking questions and typing into her phone. It must be his assistant. He waves at us, and we both return the gesture.