He cleared his throat. “Right. Of course, the view. Okay, well, have a good night.”
“You too.” I smiled tightly, but my feet didn’t budge. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want him to see my car or the bodyguard waiting for me behind the wheel. But, in reality, I just wasn’t ready to leave. Home wasn’t where I wanted to be. I didn’t actually want to be anywhere.
Not even standing at the foot of a bridge, talking to a witty and sexy man.
Okay, maybe I wanted that a little bit.
“Yep. Have a good night,” he repeated, shoving his hands inside his pockets and slowly backing away.
I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before he jogged in the other direction.
I smiled to myself, shaking my head at the entire interaction—secretly lamenting that it hadn’t been longer.
The next day …
“YOU HAVE TO come with me, Miss Williams,” Devon, my bodyguard, said, pressing his finger against the small speaker in his ear.
“No. I really don’t.” I glanced back at the line of young girls. Lifting a finger in their direction, I signaled for a second. Dropping my voice to an angry whisper, I snapped, “I don’t care what Stewart told you. I’m not leaving.” I flashed the girls another smile before watching him repeat my words into the microphone on the sleeve of his suit coat.
Devon extended a ringing phone in my direction, but I quickly pressed end, knowing that my manager, Stewart, was on the other end.
“Tell him to get his ass down here if he wants me to cut this short.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Devon replied.
I turned my attention back to the line of girls freaking out and furiously snapping pictures of me with their cell phones.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I cooed, walking in the direction of a little girl no older than eight. Tears were streaming down her face as I took in her bald head, which was wrapped in a Levee Williams bandana, and a slew of wires and tubes dangling from her frail body.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” a woman, who I assumed was her mother, said with red-rimmed eyes while snapping pictures.
“No. Thank you.” I hugged the woman before squatting down to the little girl for a huge embrace I wasn’t nearly prepared for.
As her tiny body slammed into mine, I was rocked off my heels, falling backwards with her still in my arms. Security, doctors, and parents all tried to catch me, but my ass found the tile floor first.
“Oh my God!” the little girl gasped, tears of embarrassment welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She frantically scrambled to her feet, continuously apologizing.
My expression mirrored hers. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” I patted down her small shoulders and straightened the oxygen cannula in her nose. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and rushed to her mother.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, feeling like a clumsy-ass for having made such a sick little girl cry.
Her mother shook her head, dismissing my apology, and mouthed to me, “She’s just embarrassed.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I mouthed back.
Stewart suddenly appeared at my side. “Levee, what the—”
I snapped twice and lifted a finger over his mouth, silencing him midsentence. “What’s her name?” I asked.
“Morgan,” the woman replied with a kind smile.
“Hey, Morgan.” I approached her, dropping to my knees. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m such a klutz sometimes.” I lifted the edge of my maxi dress, revealing one of my legs. “Look.” I pointed to the bruises and scrapes on my legs. “I even fell down the stairs at a rehearsal the other night.” I rubbed her back, and she peeked over her shoulder, flashing me a smile that relieved the tension in my shoulders.
“I know. I saw it on YouTube.”
I returned her grin. “Ah, yes. My dear friend YouTube. Always there when I need it,” I teased.