I laughed. "I don't know. You get the right professor and they may appreciate that. Grading anatomy exams has to be tedious. They could probably use a drink. So, why a doctor?" I pulled my legs up and folded them under me.
"Versus a tightrope walker like I thought I wanted to be?" He plopped down on the bed beside me with his own coffee.
A giggle bubbled up through me. "Tightrope walker? You're teasing."
"Much to my parents' horror, no. From the time I was six years old until I was twelve, I was convinced I wanted to be a tightrope walker in the circus."
"You didn't want to be a lion tamer or maybe a clown?"
He looked at me with disbelief. "A clown? You're kidding, right? Clowns are fucking messed up. Haven't you ever read It or seen the movie Poltergeist? Clowns are like demons. As a matter of fact, they're the only reason I changed my mind about being a tightrope walker. There was no way I could have balanced on a rope fifty feet in the air with those freaky bastards looking up at me." He shuddered at the thought.
My giggles turned to belly laughs. He was almost too cute for words. "How can a big strapping guy like you be scared of sweet clowns who hand out balloons?"
His reaction to my statement made me laugh even harder. "I'm not sure I even know you," he sputtered, scooting away from me like I was a special kind of crazy and he was afraid of catching it.
Laughing as hard as I had made not only my side ache, but my lip throbbed painfully. I ignored it, not wanting to ruin our happy bubble. "At least I know what the theme for your birthday will be this year," I joked. "Oh, and Poltergeist. Thanks for reminding me. Now I know what to get you too."
"You wouldn't dare." Anyone who had seen the movie, Poltergeist, remembered the iconic scene where the possessed clown puppet jumps from under the bed to choke the poor frightened kid.
"What, you don't want a clown puppet? Don't worry. I'll wrap it and not just stick it under your bed or anything creepy like that," I said with a mischievous smile.
"You are just plain evil." He wagged a finger at me, downing the rest of his coffee. "Oh, by the way. You might want to call your parents. I guess they're freaking out too."
Shit. My smile dropped.
"Did they call?" I asked, patting around the bed for my phone.
Alec pulled it from his pocket. "At six, seven, and again at eight. Judging by the pattern, I'd say your mom will be calling in approximately thirteen minutes," he said, checking the time on my phone.
"Oh lord. Have you talked to her?"
"Only to reassure her that you're fine and that I was standing guard over you while you slept. Her demand, not mine."
"I'm sorry. Both my parents can be a wee bit overprotective. For that matter, my brothers are too. That's why I planned on keeping this from them for now. I knew I should have called Olivia last night. She probably told them," I grumbled, jumping out of bed. "I'm sorry you had to hang around here all night. My mom wouldn't have known if you had gone to your own room." I paced back and forth, tapping my phone against my head. "Okay, should I call her or wait for her to call me back? If I wait any longer she could work herself up even more. For all I know, she's already jumped on a plane to rescue me."
"Are you talking to me or yourself?" Alec watched me in amusement while I paced the floor. "You know it's just a call, not the Spanish Inquisition."
I stopped mid-step and turned toward him incredulously. "I would prefer the inquisition. Once my mom gets started, you're in for the long haul."
"She sounded understandably concerned but very sweet."
"Oh, she's sweet all right, but she's a worrywart. Even when I assure her that I'm fine, she'll probably still insist on flying here to be with me. I wouldn't be surprised if she and my brothers are in a taxi on the way here. It's the curse of being not only the baby of the family, but the only girl."
My phone rang in the middle of my tirade. Much to Alec's delight, the conversation went much like I had anticipated. It didn't help that Mom had me on speakerphone, so my entire family fired questions at me. It took nearly forty-five minutes to convince them they didn't need to attend the rest of my events to watch over me. I assured them having Alec around was enough to keep me safe. Of course, much to my continued mortification, once I mentioned his name, they all insisted I put him on the phone. I had to hand it to Alec. He handled the onslaught of questions like a pro. He agreed with my brothers that I would no longer wander any halls at any hotel by myself, and that I would be escorted everywhere I went. My attempts to protest were dismissed like I didn't have a say in the matter.
By the time Alec finished talking with my brothers, they had worked out a security plan that rivaled any A-list celebrity. I felt bad that Alec was pressured into their demands, but once we hung up, I would let him off the hook.
Chapter Fourteen
As it turned out, it was Alec who wouldn't let me off the hook, claiming he had given my family his word. I tried to argue that my mom would never know, but he countered that he would never be able to face them, let alone forgive himself if anything happened now that he had promised to keep an eye on me.
After speaking with my family, I decided to get the inevitable call with Olivia out of the way next. Our conversation went much the same way it had gone with my mom. Alec had already given her the details of what he knew, so she basically just wanted to hear from me that I was okay. That and to tell me not to go anywhere alone again. After telling her about the elaborate security plan Alec had hatched with my brothers, she felt better and made me promise to call her again later.
I found everyone's concern for my well-being touching, even though it bordered on overkill. One isolated incident didn't mean I would be in danger everywhere I went. Still, I would have been lying if I said having Alec playing the role of knight in shining armor was unpleasant in the slightest.
Looking at the time on my phone, I gathered my clothes for the day and walked to the bathroom to get ready for an author brunch that was scheduled to begin in less than thirty minutes. My initial instinct was to skip it, especially after realizing the news of the incident had spread in my social media circles. The last thing I wanted was to become the center of attention and be asked to recount the details of something I just wanted to put behind me.
Walking out of my room felt like an act of will. Even though the drunken slob who attacked me was gone and in jail, I still had to walk by the door of his room. The room he had nearly dragged me into. As we approached from the far end of the hallway, my pace slowed. I felt like a small child, expecting the boogeyman to jump out at any moment. >Once I was dressed, I pulled my hair up into a loose knot on top of my head. Wiping my hand across the mirror, I studied my reflection, surprised to see the signs of the attack on my face. The guy hadn't wailed on me, but he might as well have. My bottom lip was swollen from being pushed against my teeth. Upon closer inspection, I could see a large cut inside my lip. Faint bruises had materialized on my cheeks from where his fingers gripped my face. My neck was also bruised, along with my collarbone.