The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Thirteen: Back Home Again

The next morning you awake with a throbbing headache and an overall sense of dread. You know everything was cleared up between you and Richard and Taron, but you can't seem to shake the feeling of unease as you drag yourself out of bed to shower. The warm cascading water does little to calm you, but at least you feel somewhat refreshed afterward. Once dry and clothed, you hurriedly pack up your belongings so that you can leave this place and get back home where you belong. As you carefully stuff the glamorous dress back into it's garment bag and place the expensive heels into your suitcase, you wonder briefly it you were meant to keep them. You can't imagine owning something so extravagant, however, not wanting to leave them behind for the hotel staff to discover, you gather them up with everything else as you make your way out of the room and down to hotel lobby. Once again, you retrieve George's card and call him to let him know that you are ready to depart for the airport, and are only a little bummed that this will be your last experience with your own personal car service.

Once you are bumping along in the sleek black vehicle and watching the city of New York pass by your eyes, you allow yourself to think back to the previous night. You are still glad you came. It was a wonderful night full of all the glitz and glamour that you never get to experience back home, although living in L.A., you probably could if you really wanted to. As usual, you don't like the way things were left with Taron. Why did he blurt out that he still loved you and why hadn't you acknowledged it? Why had he gotten the jewelry for you?  What in the world must he really think about you kissing Richard? Why in the hell had you undressed in front of him?? You slap your hand over your forehead at that last one. You must've really been out of your mind. But the look in his eyes, well, it was almost worth it. A small smile pulls at your lips and you mentally scold yourself once again. You pull your phone out to distract yourself, and see that you have several missed texts from Richard that came in after you had hastily texted him that you were back safe last night.

Richard: Glad you're back safe and glad you had a good time. Don't worry about things being weird. You and I are fine.

Richard: Also, T and I talked after you left and we're fine too.

Richard: You should probably talk to him though. There's something you should know.

Your heart leaps into your chest, just like it always does where Taron is concerned. What does he mean by that? These texts came in late last night so he obviously doesn't know that you and Taron already talked. Is he referring to the jewelry? That can't be it, you already discussed that with Richard. You are just about to call him when George pulls up to the departure terminal at La Guardia. He goes around to unload your bags so you deposit your phone into your bag and follow him out of the car. It will have to wait.

George walks you all the way inside to the ticket counter where he helps you get your bags checked. Once you have ticket in hand and are ready to head to security, he finally leaves you with a little tip of his hat and you tell him how grateful you are to have had him there. You try and hand him a tip, to which he refuses, informing you that it's already been taken care of. So you watch him turn and leave, then you walk the short distance to the security line. You consider calling Richard now, but the area is so packed with people that you'd rather wait until you have a little more privacy before you hear about whatever it is that "you should know". Maybe it's because of the Met Gala, but the airport is extremely busy and it takes you a lot longer to get through security than normal. By the time you've gotten through the line and made your way to the gate, they are already boarding so you get in line to wait to board the plane. Once onboard, you stow your carry-on below you, buckle your seatbelt, then finally pull out your phone. You are hoping that whatever Richard has to say won't take long since the flight attendant just announced that they will be preparing for take-off soon. You quickly push send on the call, then wait impatiently as it rings; once, twice, three times...then finally to his voicemail. You huff under your breath and pull the phone away, looking at it in your hand. You type out a text to him.