Kissed Blind (A Hot Pursuit Novel Book 2) (12 page)

He grabbed the container and lifted it to his nose. “Mm, that smell… it’s indescribable. My stomach has been giving me some trouble today. You don’t have any more of those capsules from your herbalist, do you?”

“They’re in my other bag.”

He sighed. “That’s my luck.”

“You’ve been under so much pressure lately, darling. It’s stress. This will be perfect for you—a nice, clean salad.” Camille offered the Styrofoam cup in her hand. “And here, I got this for you to drink.”

“Actually,” Cici said, snatching it from her hand. “
I
got this for you.”

Camille looked like she’d caught wind of something foul, but Oliver was oblivious to the tug-of-war.

“Oh, great. If it’s the same thing as this morning then it’s perfect. I need a pick-me-up.” He lifted it to his lips when Camille placed her hand on his arm and stopped him.

“Darling, if you’re stomach has been upset caffeine isn’t the best thing. You should do a cleanse and get the toxins out of your system. Maybe Cici could get you some juice or something. Cici, do you think you could get him a green juice.”

That took the wind out of Cici’s sails, and her shoulders sagged. She didn’t bother bringing up the fact that the tea didn’t have caffeine. “I’m not sure they have that here.”

“Well, surely there’s a place close by. Why don’t you take this young man here with you?” She faced Vance with a raking gaze. “And find some place that makes them. We’re in the heart of this city. There has to be something nearby.”

Oliver held up his hand and shook his head. “That’s not necessary. This doesn’t have caffeine anyway.”

Cici’s chin rose high, and she savored the moment.

Camille sighed. “It doesn’t matter. You have to trust me. I know how to make you feel better. You can’t afford to be sick during filming. You know I’m right.” She stroked Oliver’s arm.

Oliver nodded. “I’m still drinking this, but Vance, would you mind taking Cici to find me a green juice?”

Vance glanced at Cici and smiled. “I’d love to.”

The thought of Vance and Cici being alone again made my skin crawl. It was enough knowing he’d done what he had with that Sherry girl. I didn’t think I’d be able to emotionally handle him being swooned by Cici too, but I couldn’t stop it. They left, and I stood guard while Oliver and Camille took a seat at the table on the sidewalk.

My stomach began to grumble as soon as a whiff of Oliver’s salad blew my way. The smell of bacon and a mix of savory herbs whetted my appetite further. I’d have to wait until Vance returned to grab a bite. I kept my distance while Camille and Oliver began to eat. Well, Oliver ate and Camille watched.

“A well-timed salad doesn’t undo anything,” Oliver said. “You know that, right?”

Despite his soft tone, Camille shushed him. “Please, we’re in public.
People
could be listening.” With my back to them, I assumed she meant me.

“No one can hear us.”

“What about her?”

“She signed the paper just like everyone else does who works for us.”

“Oliver.” Her voice dropped lower, but I didn’t miss the clipped edge. “I would prefer it if we didn’t discuss this now. It’s bad enough Cici is always around.”

“You never trust anyone.”

“Maybe because you never hire frumpy girls to attend to your every need.”

“That’s ridiculous. You don’t either.”

“No, I hire gay men.”

His fork clanked against the table. “Are you including Jude?”

“Oh please.” She heaved. “Okay fine, he was bi-sexual.”

He coughed on a bite of food. “That makes all the difference. It’s Hollywood, the land of illusions. I’m as good as the company I keep, wouldn’t you agree?” A long moment of silence followed.

She groaned. “Ugh, whatever, I don’t want to discuss it. Let’s drop this and have our lunch.”

“I don’t feel like dropping anything. With the twentieth anniversary event next week her name is bound to come up.”

“No, it won’t. No one will mention her. It would only come up if you bring it up, like you insist on doing all the time lately.”

“It bothers me.”

“Conveniently, now it bothers you.”

“It always did. I just never said anything before.”

She groaned. “I’m getting tired of you throwing her name in my face as ammunition every time we have an argument. We agreed on how to handle this years ago. Let it be.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, well...I figured.”

Fifteen

Camille’s heavy chair scooted along the pavement, and she left Oliver to eat his lunch. Oliver ate what he wanted of the salad and sipped from his drink but eventually tossed it all in the trash. He stopped by to talk to me as the actors were called to take their places.

“How’s everything going?” Oliver asked, slinging his hand over my shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. 

A bright light flashed out of the corner of my eye, and the moment had been captured. It would take a New York minute for it to be splashed all over the tabloids given how quickly they’d plastered the other image from the park and devoured it. The only other thing to consider was how long it would take before Gabe saw it and jumped to conclusions.

“Good,” I said, bobbing my head at the camera toting annoyance. “I know you said this is normal, but how do you get used to this constant attention?” The cameras continued to click away in the distance.

He shrugged. “It gets to me sometimes, but I try not to let it. When it needles its way into my home then it bothers me.”

“It needles its way into your home? I didn’t see you as the tabloid reading type.”

“No, not me. Camille. She says she hates them, but I know she loves the attention. She didn’t appreciate the picture they released of you and me at the park. I have to admit, it was a great fraction of a second they caught when I was looking at you. Primo material to give the gossips some fat to chew.”

I covered my eyes. “Oh God, she must hate me.”

“Why would she?”

“I don’t know. It seems like it would be a logical reaction when someone is rumored to be your husband’s love interest.”

He chuckled. “So you saw it too.”

“More or less. I heard about it.”

“Eh, don’t pay it any mind. And besides, Camille was there. She knows the story is a convenient fabrication from the media. But to be honest, there could be worse things to be accused of. You are a true beauty. I’d be honored to be able to call you my love interest.” He raised a brow and gave me a sideways glance.

My cheeks heated. “Oh… uh… thanks.”

His face spread with a warm grin. “Has Cici taken care of your clothes for the event next week?”

“I think so. I gave her my information.”

“Great. Speaking of, where is she with that juice?”

“Is your stomach feeling better?”

“Actually, worse. I’m not sure if I’m coming down with something or not. My head’s not right either.” His makeup was on, which altered his appearance, but the whites of his eyes didn’t lie; he didn’t feel well.

Cadence came up behind Oliver and shuffled him along. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear Martin. You need to take your place.” Something about her British accent made her rousing less abrasive.

He looked at me and forced his eyes to open wide. “But the show must go on.”

I stood back, once again, and assumed my position out of the way but close enough in case he needed me. Cici and Vance returned with Oliver’s green juice a few minutes after shooting the first scene began.

“Damn,” Cici said, clicking her tongue. “They started filming already?”

“Yeah, you guys were gone for a while.” I shot Vance my most judgmental eye.

“We had to drive around before we found a deli down here that makes this stuff,” Vance added, oblivious.

I glanced over at the clear cup in Cici’s hand. It looked like a thick, bright green cucumber had been ground up and dumped in the cup. I almost got queasy thinking about drinking whatever kind of wheatgrass or other Hollywood hippy crap was blended in there. “What’s in that anyway?” I asked.

Cici held up the cup as if she was inspecting it. “Oh gosh, tons of stuff. Spinach, cucumber, ginger, apple…about a dozen things. It’s supposed to be good for you.” She lifted her head to see where Oliver was. “I’m just going to sneak over and put this close by so he can sip it if he wants. Be back in a sec.”

“How are things going here?” Vance asked when Cici walked off.

“Fine, I guess. Camille and Oliver got into another spat over lunch and she stormed off.”

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise?”

I shook my head. “You need to come up with a different phrase, really.”

“What?” He held his palms up in a shrug.

“You always say that when Gabe and I have a disagreement too.”

“Eh, whatever. So, she left or what?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her since.”

About an hour later, we’d followed Oliver through filming, which stretched over several different neighboring streets. The security on set was kept tight, which was nice to see. Fans were kept far out of sight, so even an excited cheer wouldn’t interfere. Camille eventually resurfaced and appeared in a canvas chair just out of one of the shots where she could field phone calls without being disruptive. She kept Oliver in her line of sight. As he worked his scenes, her head raised and lowered as he moved on the set. It was kind of sweet the way she showed her support for him despite their differences.

When the director yelled “cut” on a scene, a commotion followed, catching my attention. Vance and I strained to see what was happening. We took a few steps forward and found Oliver being escorted to a chair.

“Everybody stand back,” Cadence said, fanning a flushed Oliver who’d plopped into a chair.

Camille sprang from her seat to be next to Oliver. “What’s wrong, darling?”

Vance and I stood at his side.

Oliver had his hand to his brow and was exhaling a large breath. “I just need a second. Low blood sugar or something. I need a drink.” He picked up the green juice that had been next to his chair and took a few large pulls of the liquid into his mouth.

“Everyone, give us a second, please,” Camille instructed. She held up her hands as if to push everyone back. Vance and I didn’t budge from our positions.

Once Oliver felt he had enough privacy, he looked over to Vance and me. “I’m finished for the day. I can’t stay on my feet much longer. I’ve got a stomach bug brewing and I’d rather not show the crew another look at my lunch.”

“Of course,” Camille interjected. “I’ll tell the director you’re not well. I’ll handle everything. Just sit and relax.” As Camille sauntered off, she raised her phone to her ear.

Vance leaned down closer to his side. “Sir, what can we do for you?”

I scanned our surroundings and looked for the easiest point of exit. Cici had reappeared. She watched Oliver with furrowed brows but stayed out of the way.

“I just need a second to sit here,” Oliver said, readjusting himself in the seat.

Camille returned with Cadence and the director. Oliver was told to go home and to get well. Camille added she’d called the doctor.

“Where’s the car?” Camille asked looking at Vance.

“It’s parked on one of the side streets. I can bring it around wherever you’d like.”

“I’d like him to leave here via one of the lesser traversed streets to keep the media attention away from this. Oliver doesn’t need to be seen throwing up on the evening news, do you, darling?” She rubbed his shoulder.

He groaned. “No, I don’t.”

“Why don’t you go get the car?” She snapped her fingers. “Cici! Cici, you go with him. It’ll be one less person to manage. And Diana, you stay here with Oli until the car is close enough so he doesn’t have to walk too far. Oli, I’ll grab your things from your trailer.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Oliver said, taking a deep breath.

Vance grabbed my arm and brought his lips to my ear. “I’m a couple of blocks away. It’ll take me five to seven minutes to get to the car. I’ll swing it around to the corner of Fourteenth and Walnut. Sir?” He looked down to Oliver. “You might need to walk about one block. You okay with that?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting a second wind.” He forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Camille leaned in. “I’m sorry, where did you say the car would be?”

Vance repeated the pick-up location.

“That’s out of the way, correct? It’ll be private?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a quiet street. One way traffic. No one would want to hang out in that area anyway. They have the surrounding areas closed off for the movie, but you walk one block in any direction and you’ll find yourself in a bad area of town.” 

“That’s perfect,” Camille added, shooing Vance and Cici with her hands. “Off you go then. He’s not well and needs to get out of here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Camille strode off to retrieve Oliver’s things from his trailer.

“All right,” Vance said. “Cici and I should be at the corner in...” He glanced down at his watch. “In about seven minutes. Be there.”

“You got it. We’ll rest here for a couple of minutes and start walking,” I answered.

Vance and Cici set off, and Cici trotted to keep up with Vance’s long strides. A few actors came by to wish Oliver well. He put on a brave face, but he was deteriorating. His chest rose and fell with each deliberate breath, as if he was trying to keep the contents of his stomach down.

I watched for Camille, but she had yet to return, and we couldn’t wait any longer. “Okay, we should get going.” I grabbed his arm and helped him from the chair. “I assume Camille can catch up to us.”

He rose from his chair and suppressed a gag. “Yes, she can.”

We began walking up the sidewalk toward Walnut Street. Oliver stumbled, and I put my arm around his waist to catch him.

“Whoa, you okay?” I asked.

“My worst hangovers have felt better than this.” He closed his eyes and grunted.

“I’ve got you. Lean on me if you need to.”

He rested more of his weight against my body, and I shifted my gait to accommodate the additional burden. He chuckled. “You’re a lot stronger than you look.”

“I have to be.”

We ambled down the sidewalk and not another soul littered the streets. Someone could have been watching from any of the windows above in the old brick buildings around us, but I hoped none of them had a camera. I got the feeling that no matter where Oliver went, all eyes were always on him.

We approached what looked like an alley. Vance had said we only needed to walk one block, but he must have forgotten it was there. Trash and dead leaves swirled in a mini tornado at the entrance as a gust of wind blew through.

Oliver coughed. “I’m going to be sick.”

I hustled him over next to the building at the entrance of the alley, and he heaved. His green juice, salad, and tea formed a large liquid patty at his feet. The man had an audience for almost every moment of his life; I wished I could have given him his privacy in this one.

I closed off my nose from the inside. If I caught even the slightest scent of his puke, I’d buckle over next to him. Blood and many other disgusting things I can handle, but vomit is where I draw a firm line in the sand.

I fished a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to him when he sounded finished. He rested his hand against the bricks and took the tissue, wiping his mouth, and then fell back against the building.

“Jesus.” He grumbled. “Kill me now.”

“We don’t have much farther to go. You think you can make it? I can have Vance break all kinds of traffic laws to pick you up right here. He won’t mind.”

“No. I can do it.”

He righted himself and attempted to square his sagging shoulders. His eyes were red, droopy, and filled with water. He looked at me, and his eyes darted behind me. They bulged and a barely audible gasp escaped his parted lips. That fraction of a second was my only warning, and one I would replay in my mind over and over. The pain was what I would remember next.