Room Service

Chapter Nine

Recap of the previous chapter (because it's been a while): Leon and Coraline awoke after falling asleep in Leon's car. They raced back to the hotel to get back in time for Coraline's shift, but came face to face with Collette (Leon's PA) in the lobby. After an interrogation from Collette, Leon's manager walked in with a copy of the photo and told him to explain himself.

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            There was a moment of silence, in which everybody in the room seemed to be holding their breath, before Leon managed to speak.

            But even when it did happen, he left a lot to be desired in terms of coherency.

            “I… It’s not… I mean I didn’t…”

            It was perhaps the first time I’d ever witnessed him speechless. Usually, he had an answer for everything, which had to be a side effect of the fame. Charisma was an essential part of the job. Now, however, I was seeing him in a very different light.

            His attempt at an explanation wasn’t getting better with time; in fact, it actually seemed to be growing feebler, threatening to trail off into nonexistence. In the huge gaps his stammering left, Allison’s presence was swelling around all of us, even if her primary concern was Leon.

            “Well,” she said, a little louder than necessary, “I hope you’re going to come up with a better answer than that when you get asked the same question in a live televised interview.”

            Her expression may have looked relatively calm on the surface, but I could tell there was a storm brewing underneath, and the confrontation was set to be anything but. It looked like Leon had realised the same thing; his blue eyes were widened, fear etched across his features.

            “What were you thinking?” she continued, after sensing she was not going to get a reply out of him. “Actually, don’t bother answering that: you weren’t thinking. That’s what caused this whole problem in the first place.”

            His mouth was opening and closing, likening to a goldfish in a way I probably would’ve otherwise found comical, but no words found their way out. In the absence of an opposition from her client, Allison turned toward me, her eyes swivelling to lock onto their new target.

            “And you,” she barked. “You. What’s your name?”

            I swallowed, hoping my voice wouldn’t waver, because it felt like she’d tear any weakness to shreds. “Coraline.”

            Her skin, I noticed, was remarkably wrinkle-free; exactly how much Botox had contributed to that effect? My guess was placed at quite a lot, taking into account the way she was having difficulty putting on a real frown. Instead, she settled for narrowing her eyes as much as possible, hoping it had a similar effect.

            “Coraline,” she repeated, like the word left a foul taste in her mouth. “You know, this is your fault, too. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this is going to cause?”

            My heart was pounding beneath my shirt, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain a tough exterior on the receiving end of a glare that looked a death threat. Then, all of a sudden, a voice cut in from across the room.

            “Don’t you dare start on her!”

            It had been so unexpected that all three of us turned round, coming face-to-face with a slightly exhilarated Leon, breathless from the force of his outburst. However, once the attention of his manager returned, I watched some of it dissipate, replaced by the same frightened look from before.