in her eyes. He handed her a pair of large black sunglasses, zipping up the bag and pulling it over his arms.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" Layla asked.
"Put them on," Leo said, "all of it, actually." he added, nodding at the pile of clothing that sat near Layla's feet.
"Why?" she asked.
"Could you...oh I don't know...elaborate?"
Leo shook his head, reaching around to unhook the beeping machine beside her. Before another word could escape her lips, he pulled the IV from her arm.
"Hey!" Layla exclaimed as Leo peeked out the window, "slow down a second."
"No time," Leo said.
"Just put on the clothing please. All of it. I’ll explain soon, I promise."
He grabbed the half-smoked cigarette from between her fingers, tossing it into the trash can beside her bed, "Shh.” he whispered sternly as Layla opened her mouth to protest.
"I promise I’ll explain everything. Get dressed."
Layla stood to her feet, gripping the bed frame with shaking hands as she did as she was told. Leo's voice is sharp and authoritative and she didn't want to test him.
"Just...turn around," she said.
Leo nodded, facing the wall. Layla reached down, gripping her hospital gown and pulling it over her head. Her hands were clammy, her vision clouded. Trying her best not to worry, Layla slid on each piece of clothing, surprised by how well it all fit. Even the shoes were her size.
"How did you know my sizes?" she asked Leo, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed as she laced up her sneakers.
The look was hardly Layla's style but she was grateful to have a change of clothing and wasn't about to complain.
Leo shrugged.
"The Internet," he called over his shoulder, "you're pretty famous after all."
He rubbed a hand over his chiseled jaw, staring out at the crowd of paparazzi that had started to gather outside the hotel.
How do you tell a woman that you just met, in the least creepy way possible, that you're enamored with her?
–
Past
Shortly after Layla had been stabilized, Leo left the hospital. He went back to the apartment he shared with his brothers, forcing the few stragglers that remained from the party out. He needed some time to digest what had happened – alone.
"You gonna be okay man?" Richie asked him, pausing in Leo's doorway. His face was swollen and purple. Probably another bar fight, Leo thought to himself. Richie had a knack for being a mean drunk, but Leo had never seen him look this battered.
"Yeah," he said, "I'm just going to hit the sack.”
Richie turned to leave.
"Hey," he said suddenly, turning back around to face Leo, "that girl...did you know her?”
There was something odd about this voice, but Leo couldn't put his finger on what.
"No." he said, "I mean...not really."
Richie slowly nodded, shutting the door behind himself. Leo sighed, taking a seat at his desk and moving his computer mouse, causing the screen to light up. He didn't know why he was doing it but the next thing Leo knew, he had pulled up an Internet browser and was searching Layla's name. Thousands of results filled his screen.
Damn, Leo thought. She's famous.
He spent the next hour clicking through each link and reading every bit of information he could find on the twenty-three year old Starlet that had nearly lost her life in his bathtub.
Each piece of information Leo could find made him feel like he knew everything there was to know about her.
It was all there. Her upbringing or lack of one, her fall from grace, and her climb back up the ladder. Leo read about every scandal. Every fall from grace. Every Hollywood bad boy Layla had dated – and even the few women. He read about how her film and TV offers began to fizzle to an abrupt stop and how just as the last of her money well ran dry, she was offered a three million porn deal by a company called Skin Flix.
She had redirected her career in a way no one had saw coming. Or maybe they did. Leo wasn't exactly hip to the comings and goings of tinsel town. He
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