Page 55 of Fumble

I almost get insidewithout being noticed, but a familiar face spots me from the crowd. James. The minute we lock eyes, I’m trapped, unable to walk away without acknowledging him.

“Hey, got the inside scoop for me? Is he okay?”

“We’ll have a press conference in a few hours. I’ll have more information then.” He eyes me warily.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a little stressed. A lot to do with this turn of events.” I reach out to brush his arm in reassurance. “I’m fine.”

“Well, find me later. You look like you could use a drink.”

“Sure.” Why did I say that? I have no intention of calling him or going out anywhere with him. If Hunter will let me, I want to repay his kindness. He stayed with me when I was the one in the hospital bed. Even if I need to sit in the lobby, I just want to be in the same building as him.

No one will tell me anything, which I understand, but I need to find him, to know he’s okay. In the end, I ask them to page Murphy. He can vouch for me.

He’s not happy to see me. His lips set in a grim line.

“He explicitly told you not to come. I would’ve organized his luggage, but we both know that’s not why you came.”

“I had to come. I care about him. He’s in this mess because of me.”

“Do I even want to know?” He eyes me with suspicion.

“Probably not.” He reaches for the suitcases by my side.

“I’ll take these. You can go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here when he wakes up.” Something close to pity fleets across his features.

“He said you’d do this. That you wouldn’t listen to him. If you really care about him, you need to go. Whatever is going on between the two of you right now could ruin him. I’ve worked for Mr. Vaughn for a lot of years now, and I made him a promise. I told him I’d ensure that you leave.” He reaches into his back pocket, a torn piece of paper in his hand, which he holds out for me. “Give him a few days. Then, he’ll be at this address. It’s remote, so you won’t be swarmed by paparazzi if you choose to visit.”

“Will giving me this get you in trouble?”

“Don’t you worry about me. I always have Vaughn’s best interests front and center. He knows that. Now go.” I’m reluctant to leave, but I know he’s right.

“If I give you my number, will you at least let me know he’s out of surgery?”

“Sure.” Handing me his phone, I tap out my number and hit call, so I can save his to my contacts.

“Tell him…”

“He knows. I’ll call when he’s in recovery.” His sympathetic smile warms my heart.

With every fiber of my being aching to stay close to Hunter, each step toward the exit is like trudging through molasses.

I was hoping to sneak out without James seeing me again, but my lack of grace makes me stand out in a crowd as I roll my ankle and stumble to keep myself upright. I consider it a win that I manage not to butt-slide my way across the lot, but evading James fails on an epic scale. I’m sure my cheeks are as red as the shirt I’m wearing.

“You’re a little bit of a klutz.”

“I’m aware.”

“You feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. Just an unexpected turn of events. Looks like we’re going to have to cancel the press tour for a few weeks while he recovers from surgery.”

“He’s in surgery?”

“Shit. That was off the record.”

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