Chapter 158: Do you hate me?

"Oh, no! How is this even possible?"

James ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

He was standing in Lahey’s living room, staring at a situation that should not have been possible the night before a major exhibition.

Nat and the others had come straight here after leaving the hotel. They had waited for Bree for hours. She never showed. At first they had been annoyed. Then their stomachs turned on them.

By the time James arrived, there was nothing impressive left in any of them.

Nat was half-curled on one side of the couch, his face was pulled so tight, while one of his arms locked around his middle. Stiles kept shifting like sitting still hurt. Jay looked pale and furious at the same time. Brit was the quietest, but even he kept glancing toward the hallway bathroom with the dread of a man who already knew he would be running there again soon. Every few minutes, one of them bolted up and disappeared, and the sound of another miserable round of diarrhea would come roaring all the way from the bathroom, back into the room.

It was midnight. And the exhibition was in the morning.

Lahey had only just returned from a movie set. He stood near the doorway in casual clothes, still looking tired, as expected from someone who had spent the day under lights and direction. He was an actor as well as a model, which was the main reason he had not been locked into the exhibition lineup in the first place. His schedule and current commitments had kept him out of the original five. Now that same availability suddenly mattered.

Lahey looked over the wrecked group and exhaled. "They need a hospital first."

James did not argue. He was still calculating damage. He could not call the CEO of L×L and announce that the anniversary exhibition had collapsed because four grown models destroyed themselves the night before the show. That conversation would not end well for anyone.

Lahey was already on the phone calling for an ambulance.

James pulled out his own phone and stared at Tom’s contact for a second before making the call.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tom was already asleep when the phone rang.

It was 1:00 a.m.

He woke with a frown, reached for the phone, and accepted the call without fully sitting up at first. He didn’t even check the caller’s ID.

"Hello?"

"Tom, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep," James said immediately he heard Tom’s voice.

Tom blinked against the dark. The voice alone was enough to pull him into alertness. "James? Why are you calling?"

There was a short pause. "How is your foot?"

Tom’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Fine."

"Very fine?" James asked, and the reluctance in his voice was obvious.

Tom pushed himself up against the headboard. "I don’t believe you called me at this hour just to ask about my foot. Something is happening. Go straight to the point, will you?"

James exhaled hard. "Yeah. Yeah." Another breath before he spoke up again. "I’m sorry again. Can you manage the exhibition runway tomorrow?"

Tom was fully awake now.

"The other four are not in any condition to do it," James continued. "And the exhibition cannot be postponed. If you can, You’ll be walking with Lahey."

Tom was quiet for only a second. "I can do it. I can manage."

Relief broke through James’s voice immediately. "Fantastic. Arrive by 7:00 a.m. The exhibition starts at 9:00."

"What happened to the other four, by the way?" Tom asked, furrowing his brows curiously.

"They ate something bad. Severe diarrhea. They’re useless right now." James said.

Tom drew out a long, thoughtful, "Okay."

The call ended.

Tom remained seated on the bed, as he turned over what he had heard about the men. Severe diarrhea? He wondered if that was Bree staying true to her words of getting back at them. He dialed her number.

Bree picked up as if she had been waiting for the call. Her voice was clear, not thick with sleep.

"Whatever you did is already happening, I suppose..." Tom began.

Bree chuckled softly. "I hope you’re not feeling sorry for them. They deserved it."

"Yeah. Yeah, they did. Thank you." he said and chuckled.

"Anytime."

"James just called," Tom continued. "I walk tomorrow with Lahey. We need to be at the company by 7:00."

"Will you be able to manage with your foot without letting people know you were injured?" Bree asked.

"Yes."

"Good. I’ll be at your house by 6:00."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the call ended.

Tom sat there for another moment, then realized his throat was dry. He got up, left the room, and headed toward the living room for cold water.

~~~~~~~~~

Sienna was just arriving home.

The front door opened as Tom reached the living room, and she stepped inside, looking tired. For a second, both of them stopped, equally surprised to meet the other at that hour.

Tom recovered first. "You’re just getting back from work? Is everything alright?"

"Next week is the launch," Sienna said, setting her bag down. "We’ve been working late."

Then her eyes dropped to his wrapped foot, and her expression changed, from tired to concerned;

"What happened?"

"A small accident at work. Nothing serious." Tom replied dismissively.

Sienna’s frown deepened. The look she gave him was not only concern. There was recognition in it, and irritation under the recognition.

"She definitely knew about it before me. Just like with the road accident." she said in a low, irritated voice.

Tom did not need her to name Stella. The meaning was already clear.

Sienna’s voice tightened and raised slightly; "What is going on between you and Stella anyway? Don’t you know she’s engaged?"

"Drop the subject." Tom said simply.

Sienna’s jaw clenched then she nodded angrily. "Right. You hate me so much that even standing here talking with me is a problem." she snapped.

Tom was taken aback. Then he shook his head.

"Hate? No. I don’t hate you."

The words left a silence behind them.

Sienna stared at him, anger still in her face, but something more exposed was underneath it.

"Then do you like me?" she asked.

Tom was taken aback, again. For a moment he did not answer, as if the question itself had come from a direction he was not prepared to handle at one in the morning.

"Isn’t it too late... Or early for this kind of conversation?" he asked.

"Besides, you’re just getting home and tired...?" He added thoughtfully.

Sienna bit her lip. Embarrassment, sadness, and anger all moved through her body language at once. She hated that she had asked. She hated more that she still wanted an answer.

Tom watched her carefully. And when he saw she was still waiting for an answer, he asked; "Why does that matter anyway?"

Sienna looked away then looked back at him and when she opened her mouth, her voice came out gritted, forced through pride that was no longer strong enough to hold the truth down.

"It matters because it seems I’m starting to like you."