But, of course, it doesn’t.
The laughter stops almost as suddenly as it started, and, before I know quite what happened, we’re just two near-strangers again, squeezed into a bathroom stall, with one of us having to try very, very hard not to throw up on the other.
“Oh my God, Ireallyneed some air now,” I wheeze at last, fanning myself with one hand. “Or to take this dress off so I can actually breathe.”
Jett’s eyebrows rise at that, but he refuses to take the bait, and simply clears his throat awkwardly before offering me his arm.
“Come on,” he says, pushing the door open. “We’ll go out the back way. There shouldn’t be any photographers out there.”
I nod wordlessly as I follow him out of the bathroom and down the corridor, feeling like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Everything is way too loud, and far too bright. Colors swim in and out of my peripheral vision, and I’m drifting in and out of them, reaching out to grab the back of Jett’s tuxedo jacket to steady myself as we go.
In retrospect, three glasses of champagne on an empty stomach probably wasn’t the best plan I’ve ever had.
“Here,” Jett’s saying as we come to a stop in front of a closed door. His voice seems to be coming from very far away, but when he opens the door, the rush of cool night air on my face is such a relief that I push in front of him, desperate to be somewhere I can breathe more easily.
“Lexie! Jett! Over here!”
The explosion of light and sound hits me like a smack in the face. Camera flashes go off all around me, making me raise my hand to my eyes to protect them from the sudden glare.
So I guess therewerephotographers waiting back here after all, then. Fantastic.
“Lexie, is there anything you want to say to your mom?” one of the photographers calls, his voice ringing out above the rest. “Any response to her interview?”
Her interview? With the Heather Bay Gazette? Has that really made it all the way to L.A. already?
I blink stupidly in the lights, trying to work out what to say. Before I can speak, though, I feel Jett’s hand on my elbow, holding me steady as he steps up beside me and pulls me close.
“We’re obviously very concerned about Lexie’s mom’s health,” he says smoothly. “We’re making plans to fly out and see her this week, in fact. It’s our main priority. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
He puts his arm around my shoulder, and tries to steer me back towards the building, but I’m so horrified by what he’s just said that I simply stand there, as if I’ve been turned to stone.
“You…you’re not serious?” I croak, ignoring the photographers still jostling for attention behind us. “We’re notactuallygoing to Scotland, are we?”
This is just part of the act. Ithasto be. He’s just saying it because it’s what people would expect him to say if his girlfriend’s mother was taken ill. And if the girlfriend was real, and the mother wasn’t a straight-up-liar, obviously.
I gaze up at him pleadingly, doing my best to put every ounce of my desperation not to go to Scotland into that look. My acting is obviously not that good, though, because Jett simply takes both of my hands in his and looks down at me with a sincerity that no one but me would ever doubt.
“Of course we are, Alexandra,” he says, just loud enough for everyone around us to hear. “I’d do anything for you, you know. Anything at all.”
He looks tenderly into my eyes, one hand coming up to brush the hair from my face as he smiles down at me.
It’s the last thing I see before the world goes black.
Chapter 22
Iwake with a fierce pounding in my head, which it takes me a few seconds to realize is actually coming from the door of my hotel room.
“Lexie, I know you’re in there,” yells a familiar voice, with an Australian accent. “So you better let me in or I’ll… well, I dunno what I’ll do, actually,” Summer trails off. “This place isinsane, Lexie. Let me in before they throw me out.”
I stumble out of bed, realizing too late that my eyelashes are welded together with last night’s mascara, and walking straight into the door, almost knocking myself out.
I really need to stop walking into doors like this.
“Lexie,” shrieks Summer. “You let me in right now or I’m calling your mum.”
I scrabble frantically at the door, opening it to find Summer standing in the hallway, looking like she’s about to start a fight with the wall.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me to get into this place,” she says without preamble as she pushes her way past me into the room. “It’s like bloody Alcatraz or something.”
