Page 53 of See You Maybe
A powerful arm came around her waist a little too tightly as she stumbled, and a fresh wave of nausea won against the panic.
“Slow down, beautiful,” Chris said. “I’ll take care of you.”
She shook her head. One curl was stuck to the side of her face.
Sweating? Really?
“I’m okay.”
Chris’s arm was unyielding as he propelled her up the stairs and toward the front door.
“No.” Olivia tried to make her voice firm, but it was barely more than a whisper, and now the panic was back. The world had become a massive swirl of color, and alarm bells rang faintly in her head. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t get her brain and body to communicate at the same time.
“I'll get you back to your hotel.”
Olivia struggled to form words, but darkness was closing on the outside of her vision, and her breathing was shallow. What was wrong with her?
“Here you are.” A feminine voice sounded brightly nearby, and then a different, smaller pair of hands wrapped around her biceps, a soft floral scent wafting over her.
“Cara.” Chris’s arm tightened around Olivia, but the grip on her biceps didn’t relent and the forward motion stopped. “Olivia isn’t feeling well. I’m helping her home.”
“Well, we’re here now.”
“Old friends from the ladies’ room,” another feminine voice said. Someone jostled Olivia, and the tight band around her waist loosened.
Olivia had the vague sense that tomorrow, when she remembered being at the center of a tug of war in this luxury lobby, she’d be mortified, but all she felt was relief when Chris’s body moved away.
“Besides, I think Courtney needs you. She didn’t sound happy when you rushed out. I’m sure you don’t need another scene after all the bad press lately. And, escorting an incapacitated woman to her hotel isn’t great optics. Don’t you agree?”
Even through the fog in her brain, she heard the bite in Chris’s voice. “Olivia, do you want to go with them?”
Olivia nodded and licked her lips. “I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Olivia.” Chris chuckled, but there was no amusement in the sound. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the tour.”
“Sleaze.” Olivia heard someone say, but she was more concerned with keeping upright as her legs threatened to buckle completely underneath her.
“Don’t feel well,” she whispered.
“Shit. Have you got her, Dahlia?” Hands tightened, and someone else was pressing into her.
“Yup. Let’s get her to a car.”
“She was completely sober in the bathroom twenty minutes ago,” Cara said, as they made slow progress across the marble floor.
“Look at her eyes,” another voice said. “I think she’s been dosed. I wouldn’t have thought that likely at one of these events, but you never know.”
“Should we take her to the hospital?”
“No. Please,” Olivia muttered, not sure if she was making sense. Not sure she was even awake. “Need my bed.”
Where am I?
“I don't know, depending on—Cara! She’s slipping.”
One moment Olivia was falling, and the next she was weightless, pressed tight against something hard. Massive arms tucked her close, and she rested her cheek against the smooth fabric. His voice rumbled, and she nuzzled closer, the familiar sandalwood and bergamot smell instantly relaxing her.
“I had a bad dream,” she whispered, trying to force her eyes open. “You were?—”