“Oh,” I said as I glanced in the direction she’d motioned and started walking. “Thanks,” I said over my shoulder.
“Sure.”
If she said anything further, it was lost on me. I was a man on a mission. When I got to the row of bathroom doors, I gently knocked on each one. Thankfully, most were empty, but a male voice sounded behind one, saying that it was occupied, and I offered a quick apology before I moved on.
When I got to the final door, I knocked. I prayed that she was still in there and hadn’t hightailed it out of the gala without talking to me. Chicago was a big city. There were a lot of places she could hide.
“Occupied.” A soft, feminine voice came from inside.
I frowned. It sounded like it could be Sabrina, but it was too muffled for me to be sure. I wanted to let her know that I was out here. That if she needed my help—no matter what had happened—I was here to help her. I knocked again.
“Occupied.” The voice was louder and more forceful this time.
I was feeling more confident that it was, in fact, Sabrina.
“Sabrina?” I asked as I moved closer to the door.
When there was no immediate response, I began to fear that I was harassing some random woman just trying to pee.
“Liam?”
Thank goodness. My body relaxed as I leaned on the door. I was grateful that I’d found her, and equally grateful she hadn’t left.
“Hey, everything okay?” I reached out and traced my finger along the wood grain of the door.
“Yeah…” There was a hesitation to her response that told me things really weren’t okay.
“Listen, it’s totally normal if something happened. I’m here for you. Can I get you anything?”
I didn’t want her to be embarrassed. Bathroom issues were a human thing. I knew she wanted to be strong, independent. That she didn’t want me to help her out because she was my assistant. But sometimes, accidents happened.
“I…um…”
I hesitated, waiting to see if she was going to finish her sentence. “I can have a driver go get you a change of clothes. That’s no problem.” I tapped my fingers on the door, wanting her to open it. But I understood this probably wasn’t a part of herself that she wanted me to see.
“It’s my shirt.”
I paused. Her shirt? That was not what I had been expecting. “Throw up?” Was she sick? The desire to take care of her surged through me. Then, fearing that I embarrassed her, I moved to add, “Whatever it is, I can help you.”
I waited, hoping she could hear my sincerity. I wasn’t going to leave her. I would be here until she let me in. Until she let me help.
I rejoiced inside when I heard the door’s deadbolt disengage. Then, slowly, the door opened, revealing Sabrina. Her lips were pursed as she stared at me. She didn’t look sick. I ran my gaze over her to see that the front of her white blouse was covered in a giant brown stain. When I met her gaze once more, I offered her an apologetic smile. She stepped to the side and waved me in.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked. I was standing in the bathroom, and she had moved out of the way so the door could close behind me.
“Fine,” she said as she made her way over to Samuel, who was strapped down on the changing table. “Little man was covered in it, but, thankfully, I had a change of clothes for him.” She glanced at me from over her shoulder.
I raised my eyebrows. “He was covered in it?” That was…impressive.
Sabrina knitted her eyebrows together. “Yeah,” she said slowly.
“Wow.” I glanced around and then realization dawned on me. “Oh!” I said before I started to smile. “Samuel had a poop explosion.” I felt like an idiot.
“Yes, of course.” Sabrina paused. “Who did you…” Her voice trailed off as her cheeks reddened and her eyes went wide. “You thought I had an accident?”
I shrugged. “From the way the waitress talked, it was the only conclusion I could make.”
Sabrina’s eyes remained as wide as saucers as she stared at me. Her skin was flushed and her lips were fluttering like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
