“Ritter…. Ritter.” Was their only warning, before Petrus let himself into the bedroom.
Ritter had just enough time to jerk the sheet over Shayle’s head where she was kissing each music note up his side. When he entered the room Petrus stopped dead in his tracks as his mouth fell open.
“What brouther?” Ritter peeped over the covers at him.
Clearing his throat, Petrus coughed into his hand. “The magazine interview is in five minutes. You’ll be late if you don’t hurry. Everyone else is already downstairs in the conference room.”
Poking her head out of the covers, Shayle sat up straight and nodded, while trying to keep everything important covered. “Go ahead, we will be right there.”
Petrus’ flushed face showed he was in the embarrassed shoes for once. Watching him squirm made Ritter grin in perverse satisfaction.
“Stall, ve vill be there in ten..” Ritter said.
Once Petrus excused himself, they hurried to dress and rush down to the conference room. Ritter spent the next hour distractedly answering questions and watching Shayle. Leaning against the wall behind the interviewers, she just stood and watched.
The room was only about ten feet by ten feet and empty except for two long grey couches facing each other. There wasn’t much for Shayle to watch other than the pale peach walls. Each bodyguard leaned against a different wall, each one looking more bored than the last.
Shifting his eyes back to Shayle, Ritter couldn’t help but grin. Standing there in her wrinkled t-shirt and old faded black jeans, her hair was wildly sticking out around her face. She had never looked more beautiful to him. With her well loved glow, she made him tremble. Finally, she had become fully his and it had been the best stolen few hours of his life.
At the next question, Ritter glanced back and realized one of the reporters was keenly watching him. Dropping the grin into his normal fake smile, he didn’t look back at Shayle again, to stop from giving them away before she was ready.
When her cell phone went off everyone turned to look as she flustered pulled it out of her front pocket, apologizing for the interruption. Stepping toward the door she walked into the small two by two entrance hall that led to the door and answered the call.
“Hello.” Ritter leaned further over, one butt check coming off the couch as he leaned as far as possible to hear better. “Gunter? What?” She let herself out into the hall and the distress was obvious in her voice.
Doing something completely uncharacteristic, Ritter stood up and followed with barely a, “Gentlemen, you’ll have to excuse me.”