“I am not,” I lied.
He shook his head at me. “This is why you shouldn’t ask about what comes next and just worry about what’s happening now.”
“Did you say all that to freak me out?”
He rose off me. “Go to sleep, Felicity.”
I was afraid to sleep. What if the nightmares came back? I didn’t want him to see that side of me. I honestly did wonder if I had any good points at all.
1:10 p.m.
“That’s your speech?” I asked, taking a bite of my oatmeal in the middle of his bed.
“What’s wrong with it?”
I shrugged, taking another bite. “You don’t think it’s kind of, I don’t know… uptight? Especially since you’re trying to get people to donate?”
“That’s Ellen’s job as the host. Mine is to represent Darcy Entertainment.”
“It’s your gala,” I muttered, stuffing my mouth.
He rolled his eyes and handed me the papers. “Fine, genius, since you seem to be able to do everything, you rewrite for me.”
“Me?”
“What? It’s easy to criticize, isn’t it?”
My eyes narrowed before putting the bowl down and taking the papers from his hands. He lay back on the bed, resting against the pillows, arms crossed, watching me.
“Make me want to donate to you.” He reached my bowl.
I outstretched my hands and put on the worst British accent I could muster. “Please, sir, can I have some more?”
“Funny.” He smiled, taking a bite.
“Seriously, start off with what the arts mean to you or something. Like ‘Hello, my name is Theodore Darcy’—”
“And although I’m a billionaire, there are kids out there somewhere who are suffering lack of funding to the arts?” He jumped in sarcastically.
“Yeah, but cut out the billionaire part. It makes you sound pretentious.” I reached over to him to take my bowl back.
“You haven’t written my speech yet.”
“Whatever, I was wrong. I have no idea what you should say. Just make it sound real, like you really need to raise money instead of showing of your company’s talent,” I said, taking a seat beside him. Picking up my cell phone, I checked but still didn’t see any text from Cleo. We always tried to settle our fights quickly, or it got out of hand and neither of us would cave in nor speak to each other until Mark finally jumped in.
“What’s wrong?”
“Huh?” I put the phone back in my pocket.
His eyes shot to it, then back to me. “You look like you’re hiding something.”
“It’s nothing. I just got into a fight with my roommate.” I reached for my plate though I was no longer hungry. “She was upset I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She thinks we’re moving too fast, and I’m depending on you too much.”
“Depending on me? You haven’t depended on me for anything other than sex.”