He didn’t get in the cab with me. He didn’t give the driver any money. He simply said, “Take her home please,” and shut the door.
I painted the driver’s cab with more vomit and eventually stumbled into my condo—grateful that for once, the paparazzi were nowhere to be found. I fell asleep on my bathroom floor and expected to wake up to dozens of missed calls and texts from Phillip. I expected him to be sitting in my living room with a big bowl of soup and a brilliant bouquet of flowers, but there was nothing.
I checked my phone and saw only one message from him: “If you’re feeling any better, come over tonight.”
I pulled the balcony’s doors closed and sighed. I needed something happy to think about.
I dragged myself into the living room and gasped, pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
There were bouquets of flowers everywhere—white and red roses, yellow daffodils, pink tulips, purple irises, and several ones I didn’t even recognize. They completely covered the floor—encasing the racks of designer clothes Joan had sent for. The most stunning bouquet, a six foot bunch of bright yellow roses that stood near the door, had an ivory envelope dangling from its stems.
I pulled it down and read the note: “Dear Selena, I hope you’re feeling a lot better today…I’m still looking forward to taking you out some time. I promise I’m not “just another guy” waiting in line to hurt you and I hope I get a chance to prove that. Your not-so-secret admirer, Ethan. PS—You should never have to buy your own flowers.”
Oh my god…
I didn’t remember telling him what type of flowers I liked, but I must have because all my favorites were surrounding me and there wasn’t a sonata lily in sight. I definitely didn’t mean to open up about my past relationships, but I guessed the liquor had brought that out of me too.
I wanted to call him immediately, to thank him for the flowers and say, “Let’s go out tonight!” but I held back. Sure, he was insanely hot, the starring guy in all my recent dreams, and all his nice gestures made me melt. But I wasn’t sure what his real motives were. I was still trying to figure out if he was some undercover reporter who wanted to get close to me for a big story.
I decided I would call him tomorrow. I was too drained to do much of anything and my muscles were beginning to ache.
All I wanted to do was buy a bunch of bottled water from the hotel’s gift shop, have some soup delivered, and pass out in bed for the rest of the day.
I threw on a robe and grabbed my room key. I pulled the door open and saw Ethan standing right in front of me.
I blinked at him.
“I’m sorry, Selena…I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he bent down and grabbed a white paper bag off the floor. “I was just dropping this off before I did some errands. There’s six water bottles at room temperature, a fruit plate, and three different soups inside…I wasn’t sure what type you liked.”
This is just a dream…You are still passed out in your bed…You will vomit any second now and wake up…This is just a dream…
I pinched myself. Then I reached over and pinched him. Hard.
“Oww!” he backed away. “Did I offend you or something?”
So this IS real…
“No…I’m sorry,” I hesitantly took the bag from him. “I was um… testing something. Thank you…very much.”
“No problem,” he scratched his head and turned to walk away.
“Wait, Ethan…You want to come in and talk for a second?”
“Sure,” he looked into my eyes as he walked into my suite.
I turned away from him and closed the door. “I was going to call you tomorrow…”
“Really? And why is that?”
“To tell you thank you for all the flowers. I like them a lot, especially the roses.”
“You’re very welcome. Shouldn’t you be in bed still?” he looked concerned.
“I was just going out to get some water from downstairs but I umm…I uh,” I couldn’t believe I was turning into mush in front of a regular guy. “I guess I already have that from you, huh?”
I motioned for him to follow me into my bedroom and sit on the sofa. I sat in the armchair across from him and folded my legs.
“So,” I avoided looking at him. “What type of errands do you have to—”
“Do you want me to stop pursuing you, Selena?”
What?
“No…What makes you say that?”
“You always avoid looking at me whenever I’m around you, unless you’re drunk. Are you afraid you’ll hurt my feelings if you tell me you’re not interested?”
I am interested…
“No…I’m,” I looked right at him and sighed, “I’m not used to dating regular guys…”
“I see…What’s the opposite of a regular guy?”
“Someone famous or ridiculously wealthy, like a billionaire or something.”
He smiled then shook his head. “Well, I’m definitely just a regular guy then. Does that bother you?”
“No…Well…Are you going to judge me if I tell you something personal?”