Who possibly was Rick.
Hoping and praying that Sarah would be awake in the wee hours of the morning, she texted her. Both hands shook as Wendy composed a couple of messages explaining the photo and the drugging. She left out Rick. She would save that until Sarah came, if she came.
She was so relieved when Sarah immediately replied:
I told you, when it’s whack, it’s crack
And just after that:
There’s not a flight now but Tom and I will catch the 6 a.m. and be there at 9 a.m. Vegas time. Hang on.
Wendy breathed more easily knowing Sarah and Tom were coming to help. In the meantime, her body surged with adrenaline, itching to take action, but there was nothing she could do. She checked Lorelei’s accounts and Colton’s. They’d posted kind things about each other, details of their trip to the club, and then nothing. Eerily, nothing. She half expected Lorelei to post outraged and vulgar reactions to what her “fans” and detractors were saying about her photo. Nothing. She watched with increasing panic as the updates scrolled past. The trolls composing these insults stayed up for a long, long time.
Wendy did, too.
12
Daniel woke at dawn, facing the view of the Strip. Above the casinos, the sky was strange and colorless, bathed in sunlight but still missing the sun itself. The neon lights glowed more intensely in that gray moment than they had in the black night. Against this backdrop, Wendy lay on the carpet, high-heeled boots kicked away, legs bent comfortably. One hand lay over her heart, on top of her phone.
He remembered the night before. Watching Wendy execute a pole dance like a professional had been an intense, heady fantasy laced with poison, because that’s when he’d begun to realize something was wrong with him.
The longer the night had gone on and the more confused he’d become, the better he remembered it, possibly because he’d been so mortified that Wendy had seen him that way and he’d needed her help. It pained him that he’d come on to her and she’d rejected him. He’d handled the end of their night so badly that they’d ended here, with him on his bed and her on his floor.
He rolled off the bed, taking a blanket with him that she must have tucked around him. His clothes dug into him everywhere: jeans, belt. He padded to his closet, silently stripped everything off, and hung the items away. Closing the bathroom door behind him so he wouldn’t wake her, he brushed his teeth and took a shower, washing away the hospital and at least half the stigma of being tricked. The doctor had told him to expect to feel terrible at least until lunchtime, but he felt great, never better.
He slipped into sweats, then returned to Wendy. Carefully he teased the phone out from under her hand. She must have been tracking Colton and Lorelei. He could have turned it over and viewed the horror himself, but he wasn’t quite ready to do that. It was cool and quiet here in the dead calm of daybreak. He liked this peaceful time and space, being out of touch. He slid her phone onto the bedside table.
Then he gathered her up in his arms, rounded the bed, and placed her in the sheets. She hardly stirred, shaking her head and murmuring, “Fuck off.” He pulled the covers up to her chest and slipped into bed beside her.
“How do you feel?” she asked him throatily.
“Good,” he said.
“How much do you remember?” she asked.
“I remember everything.” He wished he didn’t.
* * *
The next second, he opened his eyes and she wasn’t there.
He sat bolt upright in bed. Midmorning sun streamed through the window. The back of his neck was hot with it. Wendy was gone.
“Wendy,” he called. No answer. But a scrawled note was propped on his closed laptop: Call me as soon as you get up!
He snagged his phone and collapsed on the bed with a throbbing in his temple and a lighter heart.
She picked up immediately. “Hey! How are you feeling?”
“Worse, actually,” he admitted.
“I was worried,” she said. “If you hadn’t called in the next ten minutes, I was going to come check on you. You were completely dead to the world when I left. But to me, the obvious sign you weren’t yourself was that the room and the bathroom were a complete wreck.”
He frowned into the phone. “Are you sure that wasn’t you?”
Her laughter warmed him. “Seriously, your clothes are in the bottom of the wardrobe like you meant to hang them up and missed the hanger, and there was water sloshed everywhere in the bathroom. Maybe you got up and thought you were okay, but you weren’t. Just promise me you won’t try to shave.”
“Mmph,” he said. “Where are you?”
“In my own room. With the door locked,” she added quickly. “We’re going to use this room as a conference room. I’ve called Stargazer for backup. Sarah and Tom will be here within the hour.”
Of course she’d called them. It made perfect sense for her to ask additional Stargazer reps to come help her on this difficult case. But he felt like he’d let her down.
“Lorelei’s bare ass showed up all over the Internet last night,” Wendy was explaining. “With that out there, and Lorelei’s TV appearance today and her party tonight, and someone attacking me and now you, I felt like we could use some extra hands today or we’re going to drop this ball.”
“We,” he muttered.
“We’re working together,” she reminded him. “The job you do affects the job I do. The job I do determines whether I still have a job next week.”
“Okay,” he grumbled.
“Come down here and we’ll talk about it,” she said. “Don’t forget what I told you about shaving.”
Ten minutes later, he slid his key card through her lock and walked into her room. She sat up on her bed with her laptop open on her thighs. She looked gorgeous, more like a star herself than a professional helping one. The lopped-off ends of her hair were hidden in a stylish loose bun. She’d dressed up to greet the TV station for Lorelei’s appearance in a few hours. She wore a tight tan tweed skirt that ended temptingly just above her knees. Her matching suit jacket parted for a pink silk blouse. A big necklace didn’t quite hide her cle**age. She’d kicked off her expensive high-heeled sandals. He hoped she wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with him today, especially if he appeared as low as he felt.
“Aw,” she said when she saw him, confirming how bad he looked.
He went for the chair beside the bed, trying to control his fall, but he more collapsed than sat. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. “Wendy, I came on to you last night.”