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I slumped against the gaudy marble walls, my good mood vanquished by a few reporters. My body shook as the adrenaline fled my body.
Fuck, that was scary.
I was used to paparazzi, but that was next level. They usually kept a respectful distance from me while shouting and recording. That false sense of security had been the only thing that made it all bearable. But they went beyond that today. I’d never experienced this type of ambush.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you, Ms. Waters. I should have alerted you the second I saw one of those men with the cameras."
I waved him off. "It's not your fault. Nothing could stop them."
Dimitri shot Daisy a worried glance as he pressed the elevator call button.
We stood there in silence, waiting for the elevator to arrive. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep warm.
When the elevator arrived, it was blissfully empty.
I entered first, feeling like I weighed a million pounds. Daisy followed suit as Dimitri reached in and tapped the button for my floor.
Dimitri tipped his hat. "Have a good evening. I'll do better next time."
Before I could even counter his words, the elevator doors slid shut, and we were launched upward twenty floors.
Daisy fidgeted next to me as if trying to get a sense of my mood.
Normally the paparazzi wouldn't bother me this much. Hell, it was second nature for me to be followed and photographed. But if they kept this up, it could be a problem because that scared the shit out of me.
It made me want to hole up in my apartment and bury my head in the sand.
This only magnified my stress and certainly wasn’t helping with my painting situation. I’d missed two more calls from Delilah, the gallery owner I’d been working with. She wanted progress updates, which made me want to break out into hives because my artwork had completely stalled.
And it wasn’t like I could just submit the work I did with the teen group. Those were basically paint and sip paintings. Basic, fun, easy to learn. Not exactly pushing the envelope or making social commentary about the city.
The elevator spat us out on my floor. As soon as we made it inside my apartment, I flicked on the lights and headed straight for the fridge, in need of some in case of emergency dessert.
I opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen cream silk pie that I saved for moments just like this. Or my period. Whichever came first.
Daisy hovered as I felt the crushing weight of everything pressing down on my shoulders. Between dad, my deadlines, and now the paparazzi, all I wanted to do was hide somewhere until things quieted down.
I got out two plates, two forks, and a large knife to cut the frozen cake. The directions said to let it sit on the counter for two hours before eating, but nobody had time for that.
Daisy stepped forward. “Why don’t I take that knife from you?”
I held it up and turned my body toward her, eyebrow lifted. “You don’t trust me with a knife now?”
“Ummm…” Daisy stalled.
I set it down, heading to the bar cart instead. “Fine. You can do it. I’ll make us drinks.”
Daisy sighed and set to work trying to cut through the frozen block of sugar.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Daisy said, concern lacing her voice. “Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
After a heavy pour of tequila and soda, I took a sip of the stiff drink. I dropped off an identical one to Daisy before plopping down on my plush white couch, staring out the floor-to- ceiling window that overlooked Manhattan.
“Earth to Faith,” Daisy prodded.
“I’m fine,” I insisted, lost in thought.
Daisy scoffed. “Please, nobody could be fine with paparazzi surrounding you like that. Besides, it’s a truth universally acknowledged that if a woman says she's fine, that she’s actually not fine at all.” The knife clattered on the stone countertop. “This is impossible to cut right now. We gotta give it a few minutes.”
