Well, that wasn’t a straight-up no.“Tonight. I have to leave in about two hours.”
“For how long? Wait… I can’t get a ticket that quickly, Sammie.”
“A ticket for what?”
“For a flight.” She stares at me as if I should know that.
“Poppy, we have our own jet. You don’t need a ticket.” I laugh.
“Oh, so organized crime pays well then, huh?” she hums.
“We do okay. So, is that a yes?”
“I need to say goodbye and wait for Alice to make her exit from this reception, and I need to stop by home and get changed and pack a bag.”
“Okay.” I nod. I’ll take it. If I have to hold up the jet for another hour, then so be it. Because she’s coming back with me.
“I also need to get Kellie to sort out my clients for the week, but it was going to be a quiet few days anyway. She can either see them herself or they can reschedule.”
“Okay, do what you have to do. I’ll let the pilot know we’re taking off in three hours.” I lean in and kiss her.
By the time we land in Vegas, Poppy is asleep and Imogen appears tired as fuck.
“Are you okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.” I ask my sister.
“I’m fine, and you’re not supposed to tell a girl she looks tired, Sammie J,” Imogen fires back at me.
“Okay, let’s get off this jet. I’ll take you home first.”
I pick up Poppy, and her eyes blink open at me. “Are we here?”
“We are.”
“Put me down. I can walk,” she says.
“I like carrying you,” I tell her.
“Sammie, put me down,” she repeats while wiggling out of my hold. “You’re not carrying me down those rickety jet stairs.”
“Fine, but I wouldn’t have dropped you.” I place Poppy on her feet.
Imogen is ahead of us, and by the time we make it to the tarmac, she’s leaning against the car. She looks even more pale than she did on the jet five minutes ago. I let go of Poppy’s hand and walk over to my sister.
Placing my fingers under her chin, I tilt her face upwards. “What the fuck is wrong, Imogen? And don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re not.”
Imogen flinches. “It’s just motion sickness or something. Can I stay at your place tonight? Don’t take me home. If Mom sees me looking like this, she’s going to freak and I don’t want her to freak out.”
Something is wrong with her, and I’m going to find out. I usually wait for her to tell me what’s going on with her, but she’s not telling me shit.
“Okay, you can come home with me.” Opening the door, I let my sister get in first and then Poppy. I follow behind her. Then I pull out my phone and send a message to the doctor we have on call, instructing him to meet us at my apartment.
Poppy rests her head against my shoulder on the drive there. “I probably should have asked… You don’t live with your parents, do you?”
“No.” I chuckle.
“Okay, cool. Because that would have been awkward.”
Once we’re in my apartment, Imogen heads for the guestroom and I show Poppy to my room. “I have a doctor meeting me to check on Imogen. You should hop into bed. You’re tired.”
