Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
brITTANY
B rittany was completely exhausted. She had been on a number of panels all day, answering questions, bantering with her fellow influencers and panelists, and interacting with fans, all while moving from one end of the convention center to the other. Brittany wasn’t really a big name, not compared to some, but her fans had come out in force, and she could only be grateful.
All during the day, Brittany’s mom had been calling and leaving messages for her. After the last panel, Brittany finally plopped herself onto a chair in relief just in time for her phone to ring, yet again, with her mom. With a sigh, Brittany answered, Kathleen somehow already mid-conversation with her.
“Finally, Brittany, I swear you’re purposefully ignoring me.”
“Mom, I was in panels all day. You know this. I sent you my schedule. This is my first break.”
“Champagne called, they moved up the deadline.”
Brittany froze. “Moved it up?”
“They want to see designs on Monday.”
Brittany’s jaw dropped. “Monday?! Did you tell them I’m out of town this weekend for work?”
There was a pause on the other side of the conversation and Brittany knew, without a doubt, that her mother absolutely did not mention it. She groaned.
“Mom, I’m already swamped here.”
“This is a big opportunity. Champagne is high end, this is everything we’ve been waiting for, so no, I wasn’t going to tell them that you were too busy for them. I thought this was what you wanted.”
It was what she wanted. But Brittany was also tired and feeling uncreative after her mother had hated yet another round of designs. Impostor syndrome was drifting in, making her feel like a fraud. And that made her angry. But getting angry with Kathleen was never productive.
“Of course it’s what I want, Mom. I’m just out of town, and you’ve hated everything I’ve sent you so far. I don’t see how I can meet this new deadline.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
She hung up before Brittany could answer, which was for the best, considering the only words on the tip of Brittany’s tongue had started with ‘f.’
“Rough call?”
His voice was right in her ear, which was why her pulse raced. At least, that’s what Brittany told herself as she turned her head and looked up into Gus’s dark eyes, losing her breath a little at how he was leaning over her. She tried not to inhale his scent, some sort of woodsy cologne he wore, and smiled up at him.
“Just the normal with my mom.”
“Ah. How’s Queen Kathleen doing?”
She did her best not to laugh at his nickname for her mom, but she wasn’t sure she pulled it off. Gus was the only person she knew who had not been impressed with her mother when they met. Granted, it was a meeting in passing, they hadn’t said more than hello to each other since she had focused on Robbie at the time to grill him about his follower count and ambitions, but still. Maybe it was because he spent his time saving lives instead of worrying about his next social media post that he didn’t understand how scary Kathleen was.
It was refreshing.
“She just wanted to tell me a deadline got pushed up.” Brittany knew she was lucky to have her mom, that she worked hard to make sure that Brittany succeeded and had what she needed, so she did her best not to complain. But something in her face must have shown, because now Gus was frowning at her.
“She’s mad about you being here at Kickoff, isn’t she?”
How he guessed, Brittany had no idea, so she turned her attention to her feet, and the gorgeous heels she loved desperately that she needed to get off her feet as soon as possible.
“She might not be thrilled with it. She’s not a fan of these conventions. She thinks when I dress down for them, I’m cheapening my brand.”
“You’re hot as hell, Britt. Don’t let her make you feel that way.” He sounded genuine and Brittany relaxed a little. A glance up at him told her he was completely focused on her, something she was still getting used to. Gus was in the background, the periphery for so long, and now he was right here, in front of her, demanding her attention in that quiet way of his. They stared at each other for a moment, and Brittany felt her temperature rise a little, which meant it was definitely time to look somewhere else. Like her shoes.
Finally getting the little straps undone, Brittany pulled off the four-inch heels, a moment that felt better than the last three orgasms she had had put together. She moaned, rubbing the arch of one aching foot, and at the sound she saw Gus swallow, hard, and look away from her.
“Why do you wear them if you don’t like them?”
“My stream is about how to make fashion work for you in the everyday. I sure can’t recommend wearing heels to my fans if I can’t handle wearing them.”
“But you can’t handle wearing them.”
She immediately froze what she was doing and glared up at him.
“Excuse me?”
He really should have known something was horribly wrong, and maybe he did, but still, he went on.
“You collapsed in the chair. You’re rubbing your feet like they were about to fall off. Brittany, you’re on your feet all day, you don’t need to be in heels.”
The look on his face was one of sincere concern, but still. Brittany didn’t like being told what to do, and she certainly didn’t like being told what to wear.
“Gus, I’m going to need you to mind your own fucking business. Women don’t always have the option for what kind of shoes they have to wear during the day, and I’m here to give them recommendations on how to help their life be just a little bit easier. You don’t understand that, fine, but don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
Her blood was up, and her glare could’ve set the table on fire, but Gus looked from her to her feet and back.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”
And just like that, her temper fell back to a simmer.
“Just keep your opinions about what I’m wearing to yourself, and we’re good.”
He nodded, and she took a moment to wonder at how easy it was to argue with Gus. Robbie would’ve thrown a tantrum about how she was twisting his words, would’ve accused her of trying to purposely start fights for attention. Gus just… listened and acted. Which was really the bare minimum when Brittany thought about it, but still.
“Noted,” he said. “Ready to go?”
She nodded, pulling her sneakers on and carefully placing her heels in her bag, trying not to grimace while he was watching. “Yes. I need something to eat and someplace quiet to sit away from people.”
“Coming right up, killer.”
The green room they were in was on the opposite end of the Exhibition Hall, so they had to cut through the crowds to get to the exit. Gus hovered nearby, towering over people while glaring at everyone if they got too close. For some reason that glare comforted Brittany. With Gus’s help, they slowly made their way across the expansive space.
“Is it more crowded than usual?” She couldn’t believe how packed in everyone was. There were way more people than yesterday, to an alarming degree.
“Stay close,” was Gus’s only answer, which was silly since she had no plans to go anywhere, and there certainly wasn’t room for her to make a break for it. Still, she stayed right next to Gus, trying to tamp down her anxiety at the overwhelming amount of people.
Which is when the fire alarm went off.
Thousands of people jumped, staring up at the now flashing red lights, cringing at the loud whooping sound of the alarm. From across the way, Brittany could see volunteers waving people toward the exit. Gus reached back and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him.
But it wasn’t working. They were suddenly in a crush, pressed bodily up against several strangers who were just as caught as they were. The tide of the crowd pulled Brittany away from Gus, her hand slipping out of his.
“Gus!”
His head whipped in her direction, but she lost sight of him, her feet stumbling over the small space she occupied as the crowd pushed her further and further away. She felt panic rising in her chest as she realized she had no control. She turned to the guy pressed against her right side.
“I need to get to my friend.”
He just looked at her. “Girl, the best you can do is follow the crowd and stay calm.”
She knew he was right, but there were too many people, they were too close, and Brittany’s panic was rising.
Which is when someone behind her pushed too hard, and she went down.
Her ankle twisted in pain as she hit the ground. She immediately curled into a ball, covering her head as best she could as the crowd surged around her, over her.
“Help!” Brittany yelled, but between the people and the alarm, she could barely hear her own voice. She settled in, praying that people would be able to move around her until she could move again.
And then she heard shouting.
The movement around her seemed to slow down, but she wouldn’t look up from the protective position she had put herself in. After a few moments, there was a rush of air on one side of her, and then strong hands were gripping her arms.
“Brittany, it’s me.”
She had never felt such relief as she did in that moment. Gus was here, and he had her, and that meant everything was going to be okay. She let him haul her up but found she wasn’t able to put weight on her ankle, collapsing against Gus’s hard chest. The crowd was still around them, but it didn’t matter to her as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. She felt his strong arms go around her, locking her against him, and his head drop near hers so he could speak in her ear.
“Are you hurt?”
“My ankle,” she whispered.
“Fuck.” He held her tighter and then shifted his arms, moving to scoop her up against him. Instantly, she wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face in his neck.
“Hold tight, killer,” he said. “We’re about to piss some people off.”
She felt them moving but didn’t care. He had one arm locked under her butt, holding her up, and must have been using the other to push people out of his way because she suddenly felt a hard surface against her back. She looked up to find he had managed to get them over to the side, against the wall, and was now shielding her from the crowd with his body. He was so close, looking down at her, ignoring the massive amount of people pushing to get past him.
“We’re gonna be smart and just wait this out, okay?”
She nodded, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears. “Okay.”
He leaned even more into her space, and instead of it panicking her she welcomed it. One of her hands around his neck sunk into his hair, clutching him to her, but he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes a little wild.
“Christ, Britt, I thought I lost you.” He leaned his head against her temple, and she heard him inhale deeply.
“The crowd pulled me away. It was so fucking scary, Gus.”
“I got you now. You’re safe. I got you.”
Brittany wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, holding each other so tight their breathing synced, ignoring the crowd of pissed-off convention-goers trying to get by them. Brittany felt safe and calm and taken care of and she was ready to revel in it.
There would be time later to wonder why it was Gus who made her feel that way.