My view is interrupted by something dark. I consider shooing it away, but realize it’s Javier the waiter. He’s with another chubby man.

“Are you all right?” says Javier with panicked concern.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Hello,” says the other man. “My name is Fernando. I’m the manager. Would you like me to call a doctor?”

“No,” I say with a cough. “I’m really fine. It was my fault. Just a piece of meat. Throat.” I cough again, realizing I need to take some water, which I do.

“I think she’s fine,” says Karissa.

“Are you certain?” says Javier, taking my hand and staring deeply into my eyes.

“Yes,” I say, staring past him at the man at the table with the blonde across the room.

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” He hands me his card.

“Thank you.”

I sit back down, catching the eye of an old woman in black with a long fake cigarette holder, sitting alone at a table in the corner. What the fuck is she looking at?

“Wow!” says Karissa. “You got yourself a savior there.”

“That’s him!” I whisper-scream.

Karissa’s eyes go wide. “Who?”

“The man from the plane. The one who made me—”

Jaxon looks perplexed. “Did I miss something here?” he says.

“The man from the plane?” says Karissa, completely ignoring Jaxon. “No fucking way!”

“Yes! Can you believe that?”

“He’s with Clarissa Stock.”

I glance over my shoulder, abruptly recognizing the woman. “Oh my God, the supermodel! I knew I knew her from somewhere!”

“Only every magazine everywhere. She was the guest celebrity on Project Runway last week.”

I grit my teeth. “Fucking whore bitch slut.”

Jaxon chuckles. Karissa whacks his face lightly with the back of her hand.

“Be sensitive!” says Karissa. “This is a major moment for Abigail.”

“Who?”

“Jayd. I mean Jayd.”

“Oh come on, who am I kidding?” I say as I swallow down the rest of my second wine. “I’m Abigail. I mean, look at me! I’m a stupid, silly, plain, pasty-white freak from up north. I’m supposed to be riding horses and planning summer outings by the thee-shore for my rich family.”

“Summer outings by the what?”

“By the thee-sh . . . sea shore. Sea shore!”

Karissa and Jaxon look at each other and nod. What are they nodding about?

One of my waves of courage hits me, firing up a streams of charged energy from my gut, just like on the plane. I square my shoulders and sit up straight.

“You know what I’m going to do?” I say. “I’m going to go give him my number. I need a pen.” I fumble in my purse but come up with nothing. “Do either of you have a pen?” They both shake their heads, looking at me oddly. “Fuck!”

“Honey, do you think that’s such a good idea?” says Karissa. “He’s with Clarissa Stock, after all.”

“Fuck her,” I say and stand up, the room spinning a little.

I decide I’m going to hand him my phone and tell him to put his number in it. Right in front of Clarissa Fucking Stock Whore Bitch. I don’t care.

“Abigail!” shouts Karissa behind me, but it’s too late. I’m already halfway to his table, my eyes fierce and determinedly set on my goal.

I’m three-quarters of the way across the room when the world takes a seriously bad turn. My stomach flip-flops, reversing gears and sending my food upwards.

I stop dead in my tracks, but Mr. Ray-Ban and Clarissa Stock are now looking right at me, my hand clamped over my mouth.

I have just enough sense to make the decision that turning and running into the ladies’ room is better than vomiting right in the middle of the dining room in front of them.

I barely make it into the stall before several mojitos, some wine, and an expensive meal land in the toilet bowl.

God, I’m such an idiot!

Chapter 5

Javier and Fernando the manager are waiting for me when I step out, Karissa and Jaxon behind them.

“Are you all right?” says Fernando.

The world is still spinning, but I get out the words, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“We’re going home,” says Karissa, taking out her two bills.

“No need for that,” says Fernando. “Your meal is taken care of.”

“Please no,” I say, taking out my as-of-yet unused secret debit card as another wave of nausea hits me and then passes again.

“No, you don’t understand. Your meal was paid for by Señor Thorn.”

“Thorn?” I say, my senses perking up.

“Sí, the man who—” He makes a comical mime interpretation of the Heimlich maneuver. I’d laugh if I didn’t think it would make me throw up again.

Jaxon and Karissa both raise their eyebrows and look at each other, then at me.

“Okay,” says Karissa, “that was very nice of him, but we’re leaving. Come on, honey.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I ruined your night.”

“No, you didn’t. Besides, Javier got us a doggy bag. We be eating a fine lunch tomorrow. Let’s go.”

Jaxon goes to retrieve the truck. Karissa takes my arm and we head out. The old woman sitting alone with the fake cigarette holder stares at me again with probing eyes. What the fuck?

“Thank you again,” I say to Javier and Fernando. “Wait, what did you say the man’s name was?”

“Thorn. Lukas Thorn.”

“Thanks.”

On our way out, I look at the table where the man whose name I now know once sat with supermodel Clarissa Stock. But both are gone, a waiter clearing it.

Damn.

We step out onto Ocean Drive. Another wave of nausea washes over me as the heat bitch-slaps me in the face again. A valet hands Karissa a bag like the ones they have on airplanes.

Twenty feet away is another valet handing the keys of a black sports car with a backward E and a B on the front. Into it steps Lukas Thorn, Clarissa Stock beside him. He roars the engine, glances directly at me for a split second with the tiniest hint of a smile, and takes off.

Jaxon’s massive truck pulls up and we get in. I climb in the back and lie down.

My last thought before I pass out is Well, at least I know he likes blondes.

Chapter 6

What the fuck time is it?

I open one eye.

Where am I?

I see cheap blinds. I’m on a couch. There is a sheet over me. There is a dim orange light coming from somewhere. There are grunting noises.

I move my head and the room spins a little.

Shit, I think I’m going to throw up again.

Then it passes.

I sit up on the couch. Oh, I know this place. It’s Karissa’s apartment. How did I get back here?

The world aligns. I think I’m okay. But I need some water.

Shit, what time is it?

I get up and stumble to the microwave in the kitchen. 2:51am says the clock. The grunting noises are louder over here. Sounds like two guys’ voices.

I open up the refrigerator and find some Zephyrhills spring water. I pour some into a large glass and scoff it down.

Ah, so good. I wonder if there’s any Alka-Seltzer here.

I look, but don’t find any in the kitchen. I move to the bathroom.

On the way, I notice the door to Karissa’s bedroom is open an inch. The grunting is much louder here.

Oh shit.

They’re fucking!

Jaxon and Karissa!

I don’t know what comes over me, but my pounding head and sick feeling is immediately replaced by thunderous desire. It fills my pores, tensing every muscle while making me feel light as a feather. Like I’m catching a sexy breeze that’s making me weightless.

“Oh God, yes!” says somebody. That’s Jaxon.

I inch toward the open door. I can’t help myself. It’s like I’m possessed. There’s sexy fun going on and I’m drawn to it like a magnet.

I have to see!

Plus, is it my fault they didn’t secure the door?