“God.” I exhale, holding my head.
“Yeah.” He agrees on a sigh. “I brought your stuff over to my room so I can get you outta here. I’ve sent for housekeeping and gave them a huge tip and a heads up.”
He grabs a robe off the back of the door. “Here. Throw this on and come to my room. The car’s going to be here soon, and we’ve got to get you cleaned up.”
“I’m so sorry, Jagger. I never drink.”
“It’s not your fault. Wesley’s pockets were burning last night for expensive wine, and you were the innocent victim.”
He turns his head while I step out of bed, and he drapes the robe over my shoulders. “What about your clothes?”
“They stink so bad if they clean them, they can keep them.”
“Again. I’m so sorry.”
“Not to worry. Let’s just get you cleaned up. How do you feel?”
“My head hurts but I’m fine otherwise.”
“That’s probably because you puked up everything. It has its advantages.”
As soon as we leave the room, I feel slightly better.
“The adjoining room in this deal doesn’t work. I didn’t want to give you a heart attack by knocking down the damn door.”
He opens his door and I go inside. “Shower’s all yours.”
“Thanks.”
Ten minutes later, I’m fresh again, and Jagger’s got a glass of orange juice, some Advil, and dry toast waiting for me. “You’re a savior.”
He just smiles warmly at me. “You look better already.”
“Thanks. Where’s my dress?”
“Didn’t you see it soaking in the tub?”
“You’re a savior. That’s my lucky dress.”
“It paid off.”
“We should go. I don’t want to leave Wesley waiting.”
He wrings out my dress and stuffs it into a plastic dry cleaning bag, before stuffing it into my overnight bag, and we’re off. To my chagrin, Wesley doesn’t look any worse for wear when we arrive at the restaurant for breakfast. I opt for coffee and nothing else, and I nurse it the whole time we’re there.
“So, when can I expect you two to find your way back to England?” Wesley asks.
“You say the word, sir, and we’re out here.” Jagger replies.
“How about next month...when we start on the first model.” He says, smirking.
Jagger and I exchange a look, not sure if we heard him correctly.
Wesley’s eyes are dancing and Stephen is grinning.
“Are you serious?” Jagger says on exhale, smile wide, hand on chest.
“My boy, I don’t fuck around.” Wesley says, pleased with himself.
