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Chapter 3
Chuck punched Blair's number into his phone. He silently cursed that he was still able to reel off her number from memory. The phone rang out then went to voicemail. He kept trying and on the fourth attempt someone finally answered.
"Hello?" A male voice echoed down the line.
"Who's this?" Chuck questioned. He knew he'd dialed the correct number.
"You made the call Chuck. What do you want?" Chuck furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Why are answering Blair's phone?" Chuck countered.
"I'm her boyfriend, Chuck. She's asleep and I didn't want the noise to disturb her. Now you didn't answer my question, what do you want?" Chuck struggled to put the pieces together, what was Steve doing answering Blair's phone? Why the hell was Blair with Steve in the first place? He needed to speak to Blair, but his gut instincts were telling him that he wasn't going to be able to do that tonight.
"Blair left her jacket in the cloakroom; tell her I'll leave it behind the desk at The Empire." Chuck ended the phone call before Steve could respond. He quickly dialed another number and impatiently tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for the person on the other end to answer.
"Mister Bass, how can I help?"
"Andrew, I need you to find out everything you can about Steve Carter, starting with his current address. Send me the details within the next thirty minutes and have someone keep an eye on his movements starting tonight. He's up to something and I need to find out what it is."
"Consider it done, Mister Bass." Chuck exhaled deeply as his private investigator ended the call.
Chuck headed towards the exit, luckily most people were too drunk to notice him, and he managed to leave the building without being caught up in more idle conversation. He stopped off at the cloakroom on the way out to pick up Blair's jacket and climbed into his waiting limo.
"Take me back to The Empire, Arthur." Chuck barked, as he poured himself another scotch from his supply in the limo. "What's going on with you, Waldorf?" He whispered to himself, staring down at the jacket in his lap.
...
Blair stirred in bed and rolled over to bury her head further into the pillow. It was too bright and her head was pulsating. As she shielded her eyes from the glaring sunlight her other senses slowly adjusted to her surroundings. These sheets were definitely not silk, this pillow was definitely not from her bed, and the scent in the air was not the usual mix of her perfume and Dorota's cooking. She tried to open her eyes, but the world began to spin, and a wave of nausea rose rapidly in her stomach. She quickly closed her eyes again and focused on her breathing in the hope it would make her feel better.
What the hell happened last night? Blair couldn't remember.
Yes, you can, think.
She could remember arriving late to the party. She remembered talking to Chuck, and his breath on her neck.
Not helping.
Steve. They'd had an argument; he'd accused her of cheating. Well, not in so many words but that's what he insinuated, and she'd told him to leave. She remembered telling herself that it was over between them, she didn't have time for his petty arguments, and she'd returned to the bar to enjoy the rest of the night with Serena. And that was all she could remember; the rest of the night was a complete blank. She tried to piece together where she was and how she ended up here, but she couldn't connect the dots.
You need to find your phone.
Blair took a deep breath and opened one eye, hoping it would be enough to allow her to find her phone. The spinning resumed but she fought against it and pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. As her open eye adjusted to the light, she spotted her phone on the floor and reached down to pick it up.
Big mistake.
Her delicate body took an instant dislike to the sudden change in position and the wave of nausea returned. This time Blair couldn't control it and she rushed across the room to grab a wastepaper bin just in time to empty her stomach contents into it. She didn't have the strength to return to bed so conceded to propping herself up against the wall.
"Blair?" Blair opened her eyes briefly.
"Ste… Steve?" Blair stuttered. Her voice was barely more than whisper. She grabbed hold of the bin and threw up again.
"Blair! Are you okay? You should have called me if you weren't feeling well." Steve threw open the bedroom door and hurried over to Blair's side. He gently moved her hair out of her face and rubbed her back as she retched once more.
"What… What happened? We broke up…" Blair rested her head back on the wall and closed her eyes. Steve pulled a towel off the back of a chair and wiped away the beads of sweat from Blair's forehead.
"Shh, let's get you back to bed." Steve lifted Blair into his arms and carried her back to his bed.
"I don't understand." Blair muttered. She wanted to fight against Steve's assistance, but her body felt weak, and the nausea was threatening to overwhelm her again.
"We had an argument. I'm sorry for what I said, I overreacted. I was leaving like you asked but then you called me and asked me to come back. You were drunk, but we talked things through, and you forgave me. You wanted to come back to my apartment to make up properly. Don't you remember?" Steve continued to stroke Blair's hair.
"N… No. I… I'm going to be sick." Blair pushed Steve's arm away and rushed towards the bathroom, this time she managed to fight against the nausea long enough to lock the door and reach the toilet. Blair had lost count of how many times she'd been sick now but there was little left in her stomach and the bile was starting to burn her throat.
"Blair, please open the door." Steve knocked lightly on the door and tried the handle. "Let me help."
"I need a minute." Blair managed to reply as she lowered herself onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor.
"Look, I've got a meeting in fifteen minutes that I can't afford to miss. But please call me if you need anything, and order whatever you want from room service. I'll be home this evening, maybe we can order dinner in and watch a movie, your choice." Steve hovered by the door waiting to see if Blair would open it. Blair didn't move from the floor, the cold tiles on her burning skin were comforting and everything had just stopped spinning. Steve must have given up waiting for her to respond because Blair heard the apartment door open then close again.
...
Chuck's phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered it quickly when the name 'Andrew Tyler' flashed up on the screen.
"Andrew." Chuck stated.
"Mister Bass, Steve Carter has just left his building. He appears to be heading into Manhattan for a meeting with his father and their lawyers. Mr Carter's father is in the process of signing over the family business to him." Andrew updated Chuck.
"Was he alone?" Chuck asked.
"Yes. He returned to his apartment around 11pm last night after leaving your party. His doorman said he was accompanied by his girlfriend who was so intoxicated she could barely walk, and the two of them had to help her from the cab into the elevator." Andrew continued.
"Did the doorman happen to have a name for this girlfriend?" Chuck pushed. He didn't like the sound of this.
"No, but he described her as a petite brunette in a purple cocktail dress." Blair.
"Thank you, Andrew. Keep me updated on his movements and if he starts making his way back to his apartment, call me immediately." Chuck ended the call and dropped his head into his hands. If Serena was right, Blair had ended things with Steve last night and yet, less than two hours later, she was being escorted into his apartment and was still there this morning. Blair would never forgive someone that quickly, she liked the game too much and would want to drag out the apology and begging for at least 24 hours. Chuck turned his phone over in his hands and dialed Blair's number.
"Chuck?" Blair groaned. Chuck stood up at the sound of her voice. She sounded odd.
"Blair? What's wrong?" Chuck asked. Blair didn't respond. Chuck only knew she was still there because he could hear her breathing into the phone. "Blair?" Chuck asked again, but the line went dead. "Fuck!" Chuck exclaimed. He grabbed his coat and called Arthur to bring the car around, if he couldn't get any answer from Blair on the phone then he was going to have to speak to her in person.
To be continued...
Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliffhanger but I've already got the next chapter planned out and it seemed like a natural place to break it up. Please leave a review, I would love to know what you think :)