Paper Airplane

16

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

                I’ve yet to leave Brady’s condo without someone with me, whether it be my brother, Lucy, my parents, or even the SUV driver – whose name I learned was Mack.  And even after quite a lot of arguing on my part, today would have been no different.  But Brady wasn’t on my side, my parents see no problem with the situation, Lucy was busy, and Mack was driving Brady to a meeting with his manager, so needless to say, I won.

                Before he’d gone, my brother had arranged for his car to be brought out from storage, and I’ve no idea why, but he was trusting it in my care.  The thing was worth more than my life several times over, so I was slightly glad he was lending it to me, because taking care of it was all the distraction I needed on the way to the hotel Harry and the rest of the boys were staying at.  I’ve never driven more carefully – or slowly – in my entire life.

                The ridiculous questioning began the second I stepped out of my brother’s shiny vehicle.

                “Excuse me, this hotel has been privately booked for the month.  Can I help you?”

                The guy was wearing dark sunglasses; I couldn’t make out a thing behind them.  His skin reminded me of Dove chocolate and for a second I could have sworn he was Chris Brown.  But I raised a brow, taking in his black suit and Bluetooth headset and walkie talkie clipped to his belt, and I’m pretty sure I could make out the shape of a handgun in his pocket, but maybe I was imagining it.

                “Um yes, I’m here to see Harry Styles?”

                I said it like question; it didn’t seem like the response he was looking for, and I wondered if there even was a right one.

                “I’m sorry, kid.  No can do.”

                Please tell me Harry was smart enough to alert security I was coming.  And if he did, please tell me the security was smart enough to realize that if a girl approaches them with pink hair, it’s more likely than not me.

                “Look, he asked me to come.  I can show you the messages – “  I began digging my phone out of my pocket.

                The man sighed, and I got the impression he was about to humor me.  “Name?”

                “Lexie McAllister.”

                It stopped him; he seemed to consider this.  I folded my arms across my chest, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen and gotten stuck on my eyelashes as I waited.  This was beyond stupid.

                “Lexie McAllister, huh?” he repeated.

                “Yeah.”

                “You’re that Brady McAllister’s sister, aren’t you?”

                My lips pressed together as I nodded.

                He glanced over his shoulder towards the hotel where two more men dressed exactly the same had appeared in the doorway.  Then he looked back at me.  “Excuse me for a second.”

                It was much more than a second by the time he finally returned.  When he did, he wore a much kinder expression, though I still couldn’t see his eyes.  “My apologies, Miss McAllister.  You’re expected.”