The Love Club

Eighteen

Harry’s kiss leaves me disoriented, but at some point I stumble back to my hotel room and find the time to change into work clothes. The boys have another interview in an hour, which leaves me off the hook as far as the fake personal assistant gig goes. Just as this thought crosses my mind, a knock is heard at my door.

I drag my feet to the peep hole, unwilling to face any members of One Direction after the embarrassment of breakfast. I’m surprised to see Lou, arms crossed over her chest as she waits in the hall. Slowly, I pull open the door to reveal her. Her hair is up in a messy bun, a mirror in one hand and a brush in another with her arms crossed over her chest. When she looks at me, she has a fire in her eyes, but she smiles kindly at me.

“Just the woman I was looking for,” she says.

I’ve spoken to Lou only in passing, mostly in the dead time before shows. Occasionally, I’ve taken to helping her clean up her mess of hairsprays and make-up cases, or at least entertained Lux long enough to let her do it without the toddler demanding attention. I know she’s one of Harry’s good friends and confidants, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I try to puzzle out what she’s doing outside my door. 

“Lux is feeling poorly,” she says with a sigh. “I have to get the boys ready and she’s screaming about her stomach. I really hate to ask, but could you possibly sit with her while I finish getting everyone camera ready?”

My plans this morning mostly had to do with petting my cat and wallowing in self pity, but I suppose I can put it off for this evening. 

“Sure,” I shrug. “No problem.”

She lets out a breath of relief, a smile breaking out on her lips that lights up her entire face. 

“Thank you,” she tells me earnestly as I shut my door and step out into the hallway with her. She wraps her arms around me in a hug and I let out a nervous chuckle, standing awkwardly before she lets me go and begins to lead the way. 

“I meant to ask how you’re doing,” Lou says once we’ve arrived at the elevator. She presses the button for the top floor before taking a few steps back and leaning against the rail that runs the perimeter of the lift.

“What do you mean?” 

“I know you were a little uneasy there at the beginning of tour, but it looks like you’re doing okay now. You seem a lot more at ease,” she continues. 

“It took some time to adjust, but I think I’m getting used to it,” I answer. 

She doesn’t say anything else as she studies me through a reflection in the mirrored elevator. There’s something knowing about her stare, the way her eyes bore into me, that makes me nervous. I cough noncomittaly into my sleeve as the lift stops and we step off it. 

“Mina!”

My name sounds like a harmony, said simultaneously in Lux’s high-toned voice and Liam’s lower one. The blonde-haired toddler sits on Liam’s lap in a chair sat beside Zayn, whom Lou is getting to work on. On the other end of the room, Harry is being fitted by Caroline while Louis and Niall joke with the journalist interviewing them. Cameras are being set up by men in bootcut denim and nondescript tee-shirts. They wear baseball caps and quietly do their work without comment on complaint.

“Hey, guys,” I answer them, making my way over to where they sit. 

“This one,” Liam says, pointing to the girl pouting in his lap, “Demanded your presence.” 

He stands, picking Lux up with him. She reaches out her arms for me and I accept her with a soft smile. She feels light in my arms as I hold her to me, using my other hand to brush a piece of hair from her face.