What If

13. Operation: Fake Date

Friday July 10th
7:32am Maison Dupuy Hotel

What the FUCK? I had to force my eyes open as I tried to wake up. They felt like they had weights on them. Fuck my throat is scratchy, I thought as I tried to swallow. I looked around at my surroundings and realized I was in my hotel room. How the hell did I get here? The last thing I remembered was Lydia going on stage to sing at The Cat's Meow.

I tried to get up and noticed the additional weight on me. Looking down, my already present confusion got worse. Lydia was asleep and not just next to me. She had her arm thrown over my stomach and her head was on my chest. Not to mention, I realized my own arm was wrapped around her. Okay, what the fuck happened last night? At least we both had our clothes on. Because if something like that ever happened between Lydia and I, I was not going to forget it.

I brushed her hair lightly, trying to wake her up. "Lydia? Lydia, wake up," I said as she started to stir.

Two seconds later, she shot up and looked around. "Is she here? Where is she?"

Okay, now I'm even more confused. "Is who here? And what happened last night? I feel like I got run over by a garbage truck. Then he came back and did it again."

Lydia rubbed her eyes before looking back at me. "What do you remember?" She asked.

"We were at the bar and you were going on stage...That's it. The rest is a complete blank." I took a deep breath before asking my next question. "Did—Did something happen?"

She had a guarded look before she said, "Someone spiked your drink."

Okaaaaayyyy. Wasn't expecting that. "What? Who?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a long breath. "I had just gotten on stage when I saw you at the bar. A blonde woman was talking to you and you seemed to be uninterested in her. When you looked at me on stage, I saw her pour something in your drink. I think it's safe to say, PSYCHO Amy is in town."

I was trying to process what she was saying. I didn't remember any of this. Wait a minute..."Amy isn't blonde."

Lydia came and sat on the end of the bed. "I know. The blonde said a woman who was there paid her two-grand to drug you and get you outside."

My head was spinning. "What happened? How did we get here?"

She looked down and started fidgeting with her fingers. She wasn't comfortable telling me everything. I could tell.

"I got you in a cab and got you to your room. I called the concierge and they got a doctor to come examine you. He said you may not remember and to make sure you drink a lot of fluids."

There was more, something was being left out. "I guess that explains why I woke up with you in bed."

She was clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning, but to my surprise, she said, "You asked me to lay next to you."

"I did?" Was I surprised I wanted her to lay next to me? No. Was I surprised I actually asked her to? Hell, yes. I knew how she was. If I asked her to lay next to me right now, she would be on the first flight out of New Orleans.

"Yes, the doctor said you may not act like yourself. I think you were confused, you know, with everything."

"Thank you," I said and she turned away.

"You're welcome. I'm just glad I could help."

I rose from the bed and walked up behind her. Grabbing her arm gently, I turned her towards me. "I'm serious. You have no idea what you did for me last night."